Page 128 of Reckoning

She whimpers beneath me, but she lays perfectly still.

And as I lift my head to see if she’s okay, she claims my lips. She wraps her hands around my neck and she kisses me as if I’m not a monster at all.

As if I’m her very own Prince Charming, the person she’s always dreamed of.

Sofia

Oh, I know what I’ve done.

As he’s slamming into me, as he’s tearing my insides, mercilessly claiming me, I know exactly what I’ve created.

And right now I don’t care that it hurts, I don’t care that it’s so close to all that horrific trauma. I just know that I need it. I want it.

That him and me like this, him using me, and me allowing it; it makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel incredible.

As fucked up as that no doubt sounds.

My cheeks are flushed with shame. My pussy is drenched and I know it has nothing to do with the copious amounts of lube he smeared over me. I’m so close to coming. So close to completely and utterly losing it but before I can topple over, he’s there, he’s filling me up, pouring his come into me and he collapses as though he’s just spent his very life force.

His sweat covers my skin. His breath is a ragged as mine.

As he raises his head and I see that concern in his eyes, I narrow mine. I don’t want him to worry, to feel guilt, to question this. I don’t want him to second guess his actions, to worry he’s taken things too far.

I want him to use me. I want him to hurt me. I want this. All of this.

He opens his mouth but before he can speak, I pucker my lips and I claim his. I don’t want to hear apologies. I don’t want to hear concern. I want him feral. I want him domineering.

In a fucked up way, I like him like this, I like this passion and this aggression and this anger because it proves something, it shows that I matter, that I am something to him.

I know he could fuck other women, I know he could walk out of here and have anyone he choose. But he wants me. Hewantsme.

My heart swells as I repeat that over and over. He wants me. As damaged and as broken, and as pathetic as I am, Koen Diaz chooses me.

And I’ll welcome him, I’ll worship him, I’ll take whatever he offers me, no matter how depraved, no matter how savage, how brutal.

His hand cups my cheek. His kisses are always so gentle, so loving.

But the way he’s holding me, that way he’s cradling me, I know we’re not done. That we’re not even close.

He pulls himself out, drags his fingers through the mess of us both that remains between our thighs.

“Too rough?” He asks, and I hear the hint, the test.

“No,” I reply.

His eyebrows raise. His eyes darken and I swear I’ve just waved a red flag in front of a raging bull but I don’t care, I don’t have regrets. If he wants to spend the rest of today and all of tonight brutally claiming me then I’ll take it with no complaints beyond my tears.

His fingers spear me, two of them slide deep inside and he spreads them wide like he wants to see how far he can make me stretch. For a few seconds that’s all he does, stretch me, manipulate me, like my pussy is some mould he can manipulate into the perfect fit.

“I liked making you come for the entire city to see.” He mutters, sliding a third into me. “My only regret is they didn’t get to hear you screaming my name.”

I gulp back, nodding because some sordid part of me wishes they’d heard it too. Wishes his men had heard. That Reid in particular had heard what Koen was doing, that even with death snapping at our heels, the only thing Koen considered was me, my body, my pleasure.

“How about we make up for that?” He says. “How about we spend the next few hours making you scream loud enough that every one hears?”

God I’m a whore for how I react, how my body leaks arousal. I wince, knowing it’s already trickling down his hand and he chuckles.

“Such a good girl.” He groans. “I’ve got you so well trained now.”