Page 75 of Promise of Destruction (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #1)

seventy

Declan

She fucking soaks me, and I'm beyond surprised to find that it's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.

I'm not an idiot; I know her orgasm caused her to lose control of her bladder, and I know she's just soaked me in her piss and cum. And yet, I'm not disgusted or angry. I'm proud . Vindicated. Because, finally , she's given into me.

That submission is inherently sexier than anything she's given me yet.

I fuck her through it, spearing her with my fingers over and over, not stopping until her trembling subsides and her moans curtail, and the stain on her cheeks turns from pink and flushed to rouge with horror.

I fuck her until she stops giving me what I want, what I suddenly crave.

I fuck her brutally with my fingers, tearing her surrender apart until the last drop of her humiliation is wrung from her body, her piss splattered across my bare chest, pooling on the mattress protector I layered on the bed while she was asleep.

By the time my thrusts slow, she doesn't dare open her eyes, doesn't move. In fact, she's so still that I think she may have stopped breathing for a moment if it weren’t for the heavy rise and fall of her chest.

"Look at me, little bird."

She refuses, gifting me with a tiny shake of her head that confirms she at least heard me. "Soren."

I shake her face a little, demanding her attention. She sobs when her eyes open, and the tears fall, too.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Because I want to fix you.

Because I want you to fix me.

Because you've burrowed so deep under my skin that I'd have to kill us both to cut you out.

Because I hate how much I love you.

I say none of those things, instead pressing my lips to her forehead and breathing her in.

"Finally," I sigh, holding her tight. "You did so fucking good, kitten. Such a good girl."

She bristles at the term, and I expect her to snap that she's not a fucking dog, but she softens again immediately after, relaxing as I continue to shower her with praise the way she just showered me.

"Such a good fucking girl.” I rasp, thrilled with what I’ve just taken from her. I never would have thought that would be erotic, but watching her fight it so long just to cave to me in the end? It’s the most beautiful thing. “God damn, Soren, you're amazing."

She's perfect in her brokenness, perfect in all the ways that she's not.

I won't tell her that, of course. She only whimpers in response, her head turned away from me as I reach into my pocket for the key to the cuffs.

She doesn't react as I unlock them, one at a time, letting them fall away from her wrists, where the gauze that I wrapped so neatly has been frayed and twisted, her skin raw beneath it.

"Come on," I tell her, disconnecting the I.V. so that I can pull her into my arms.

She doesn't push against me, doesn't fight, doesn't say anything at all as I carry her to the bathroom she's been begging me to take her to.

I flip the water on and make sure it's hot before I set her on her feet in the shower.

Soren sways, gripping the shower wall on instinct to keep herself upright as I shed my boxers and step in behind her, shepherding her under the stream of running water until her back hits the wall.

In here, her tears mix with the spray of the shower, the last of the mascara that was clinging to her lashes running down her cheeks.

My beautiful fucking disaster.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Her voice is small, but I can tell she doesn't really think that's my endgame. Her friends saw me with her before we left the country, for fuck's sake. And if I was a killer, I'd never do it in someone else's home, where they could easily turn over any evidence missed in my attempts to clean up.

"No." I laugh, smoothing a hand over the back of her head. "I'm going to marry you."

She blinks, staring at me so that I think she must be trying to figure out if she simply misheard me. She didn't, of course.

"I'm going to marry you, and I'm going to pump you so full of my cum that you'll never feel empty again."

Something like a gasp slips out of her throat, and I just smirk at her, appreciating how stunned she looks. I'll savor this moment when she screams my name cause I make her come so hard she forgets her own.

"You don't even know me."

It's her only argument, and it's pretty cute.

I wonder if she hasn't realized just how much I've been a presence in her life ever since I learned of her existence.

She must be, because if she knew just how much I've gotten to know her these past few weeks, she'd be terrified… more than she already is.

"I know all that I need to."

"I don't know you." She argues, though it's cold, distant. This isn't her usual banter; she's still reeling from the loss of the control she wants so badly.

"You know me better than most." I shrug. "But what do you want to know? I'll tell you anything."

She stares at me but just shakes her head. "I don't care."

"Liar." I snort, looking around the shower for soap. When I find it, I squeeze some into my palms and lather them together, appraising her face.

She's shut down, trying to hold onto the only thing she has left.

I took her pride and dignity along with her control, and now she's tempering herself as some sort of survival mechanism.

I drop down to my knees without taking my eyes off her.

She doesn't flinch when I wrap my hands around her ankle and soap her up, massaging it into her skin as I work up to her thigh before switching to the other side.

I'm not surprised by this defense mode. It's just another wall I have to break through.

The prize is well worth it. So, I begin to chip away at it, telling her anything I could think she would want to know about me— the things I've learned about her in the last week just by watching.

.. that my favorite band is a rock one she's never heard of, that I'd eat burgers for all three meals if I could, that I hate ketchup but like mustard.

I don't even know if she's listening to me as I bathe her, spinning her back and forth to reach where I need to.

I've rattled off a long list of random things about me by the time she speaks.

"How do you like your coffee?” She suddenly asks. “Black, like your soul?"

I laugh, appreciating the wit. "I don't like coffee." I tell her honestly. "But I've been in the E.R. more than once for racing heart, so I had to retire the energy drinks... which means when I need caffeine, I take my coffee black."

"Predictable." She rolls her eyes, but her lip twitches, betraying a bit of her personality that she's trying so hard to stifle. "Let me guess. Your favorite color is crimson, like blood?"

"I'm not a monster, Soren." I chuckle.

I've done monstrous things, but that's not the accusation she's levied at me.

"And it's blue, actually, though that's a fairly new development.

I've been absolutely obsessed since that day I first saw you in that royal blue dress.

I thought it was just because it looked so damn good on you, but then I saw your car, your house, your towels.

I didn't know people used colored towels. "

Of all the things to get a reaction from her, that does it. She laughs, turning to look at me. My hands slip away from her shoulders where I was massaging the stiffness out of her.

"What?"

"What do you mean you 'didn't know people used colored towels'?"

"Exactly that." I shrug. "I thought everyone just used white towels so they could bleach them. But not you, Soren Palmer. You love color despite how colorless the world feels to you these days."

She blinks, considering my words a minute.

"It's felt colorless for a while... even before... everything ."

She doesn't have to tell me what everything is.

I know what she means. I also know that she's just given me something she's fought so hard to keep.

.. something she's been keeping even from herself.

Her life wasn't perfect before her husband was killed, but she's been too afraid to acknowledge that truth, as if doing so would disrespect his memory.

It's not disrespectful, though, to own her truth.

One day, I'll tell her my own. She's not ready to hear it yet, no matter how frank I've been up to this point.

But someday soon, I'll tell her what she did for me.

.. how she's the first bit of color to bleed through the static in years, how spending more time with her lets the color bleed into the rest of the world, too.

One day.