Page 26

Haven

Colton’s arms loop around me, lifting me up and tossing me onto the bed. Pain radiates from my ass, the soft sheets turning to sandpaper under my abused skin. He manhandles me until I’m on my back with my head dangling precariously off the edge of the mattress.

I don’t even try to get up. He’s wrung the fight out of me, so I stare at the purple lights lining the ceiling like a lifeless doll.

None of this would be so bad if I wasn’t embarrassingly wet between my thighs. I don’t know why, and honestly, I’m horrified that Colton beating me caused my body to react like this. I hated every second of it—wished Colton would drop dead so I wouldn’t have to endure another second.

So why are my nipples hard, and why does my core ache with the familiar, terrifying need to be filled?

Colton disappears from my line of sight. I feel myself moving, and I realize the bed is slowly rising, the soft whir of a motor reaching my ears. Panic hits me with full force as I realize he isn’t done with me yet.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper.

I can’t take anymore.

Colton doesn’t respond. He grabs the spreader bar between my ankles, and I manage to sit up in time to watch him tie that black rope to a hook in the middle. It’s the same one that he had connected to my cuffs earlier, forcing me to lean over the bed, and now he’s using it to keep my legs secure.

“Colton.” My voice is shaking, but my body won’t move.

It’s too late, anyway. He’s tightened the rope, and now I’m trapped here.

“You sure say my name an awful lot for someone who claims to hate me.” He walks around the bed until he’s standing above me, his erection obvious in his pants.

“I do hate you.”

“Mmhmm.” He draws a line down my throat, then in between my breasts, before pinching one of my nipples so hard I yelp.

Harsh memories threaten to overtake me—ones of being held down, of being violated. Of sobbing, of begging for him to stop, only for him to drive into me until I was bleeding all over the sheets.

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask, voice shaking.

“Whatever I want to. Just like we agreed on.”

“I never agreed,” I whisper.

He smiles, but his dark eyes are devoid of happiness. “That’s the thing, angel. The moment you got into my car, you agreed to every possible term I can dream up. You know why?”

I swallow, knowing what he wants me to say but clinging to the futile hope that he won’t make me admit it again.

He pinches my nipple, harder this time, making my back arch. “Tell me.”

“Because I need you,” I cry, my body slumping into the mattress when he releases my nipple.

“That’s right. You’ve got nowhere else to go, do you?”

“I don’t.”

With Colton looming over me, I’m hit with the similarities between him and Isaiah. Colton may think he’s different, but the affect on me is still the same.

I’m still helpless.

Still wondering how I got here.

Still wishing I was dead.

Possibly the only true difference is that I know Colton has limits somewhere. He’ll hurt me—break me—but in his own twisted way, he’ll fix me after. At least, that’s what he promised. Isaiah only ever intended to shatter me over and over again until he’d ground me into a fine dust.

He almost managed it, too.

That’s what gives me the strength to steel myself against whatever Colton has planned for me. No matter what it is, it can’t be as bad as what Isaiah did.

“Open your mouth. You definitely can’t deny that you agreed to that.” He sheds his pants and strokes his dick, his eyes glittering menacingly.

Numbly, I do as he says. As he slides into my mouth, he lets out a loud, sharp moan. It ricochets through me. He sounds like he’s wanted to do this for years, like it was all he could think about, and now it’s everything he dreamed of.

The satisfaction of finally having me.

No, taking.

Conquering.

Colton slaps one of my breasts. “Open your throat, too, slut.”

Helplessness washes over me, and my protective walls crack under the pressure. I’m in the exact position I vowed I’d never find myself in again. At the mercy of a heartless, cruel man who loves inflicting pain on me. When I confessed everything to him, he heard my anguish. He saw my pain.

And now, just like always, he’s using it against me.

I should’ve jumped into the creek.

No. Don’t think about that. You just have to get through this.

You can still be free someday.

So I do as I’m told and open my throat. Colton drives inside, making me gag. I want to turn away, to find some way to force him out of me, but he’s gripping my head so tightly I know I won’t be able to.

“I knew your throat would feel this good in this position.” He pulls out and slams back inside. “God, angel.”

Tears flood my eyes. You’d think after all the deepthroating I’ve done, my gag reflex would’ve waned more than it has. But I can’t stop choking, my back arching off the bed involuntarily. My horror at being fully exposed and spread out for him fades as a much more instinctual fear takes over.

His cock is too fucking thick, and he’s moving too fast. I can’t breathe, let alone try to control my gagging. When I try to hit Colton, it’s a weak attempt, and he grabs my wrists before I can even make contact with his torso.

“That’s not how this works. You don’t get to tap out.”

He continues thrusting into me with heartless force. All I can do is take it and try to get in short breaths when he pulls out. Drool slides down my face, further humiliating me.

This is why I don’t let anyone fuck my mouth. I need to be in control. To know that I can stop at any time. At least then, I’m still human.

Now I don’t have a choice.

Just when I’m afraid I’m about to pass out or puke—or both—Colton pulls out of my mouth. I gag again, twisting and trying to breathe. He’s leaning over me, so I can’t see his face. It’s not until I feel his fingers skirting over my pussy that I realize why.

“No,” I screech. I try to kick, but with the spreader bar tied down, I barely get anywhere. My attempt to squirm away is immediately met with two large hands wrenching me back into place.

“Don’t make me regret giving you a break.”

“Fuck you,” I seethe.

“So ungrateful. You’ll regret that.”

He drags his cock across my lips, and I open up and suck on the tip on instinct. My muscle memory is probably the only thing I have going for me right now.

I just wish I could fully numb myself, too.

When Colton forces his way into my throat, I manage to control my gag reflex. His hand slides over my pussy again, and my heart breaks as he feels how wet I am.

“Fucking soaked. I knew it.”

Colton drags my desire—my damnation —up to my clit and circles it slowly. A choked whimper escapes me as he continues to drive into my throat, and tears of shame coat my face.

He’s never going to let me live this down.

“Looks like I was right. You need this. Need me to pin you down and force you to face your fears.” Colton pauses with his cock all the way down my throat while rubbing my clit. “Hell, you like being forced like this. Why else would you be this wet? Fucking whore.”

I try to shake my head, but he doesn’t give me the chance to. I hate this. It’d be different if I had the power to stop him, but he refuses to give it to me.

Colton continues fucking my throat while he slowly drags a finger over my clit. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does, and the remaining respect I have for myself crumbles away.

Horror mixes with lustful cravings as I feel my stomach tightening from Colton’s touch. He’s drawing sensations out of me that no one ever has—except him, in the rose garden freshman year.

Ever since, I always thought I’d be too scared for it to feel good, but here he is, proving me wrong. My panic at being touched like this has faded. I’d never say I’m enjoying this—the heavy pain sitting on my chest is proof enough of that—but a piece of me dies as a traitorous question settles over me.

What if I do need this?

When Colton pulls out to let me breathe, a cry leaves my lips as I gasp for air. He crouches next to the bed, and his hand cups the back of my head for support. His lips press against my forehead in a kiss that’s startlingly gentle considering what he’s doing to me.

“I know you hate me.” Another kiss, this time on my cheek. “But one day, you’ll see.” The tip of my nose. “You’ll realize I was right.” He licks at the tears streaming down my face. “I’ve spent years learning you, getting under your skin and into your thoughts. I know you. And I’m going to give you what you need, whether you want it or not.”

When he kisses me, I’m too numb to do anything but kiss him back. And when he stands and runs the tip of his cock across my lips, I open my mouth automatically.

“Knew I was right,” he mutters to himself as he slides inside. He holds himself there for a second before picking up his previous brutal pace. A moment later, his fingers return to my clit.

Pleasure zaps through me, and I jolt. He chuckles, which only fuels my hatred—both at him and myself.

“I think I’m going to enjoy having you locked up here,” he says, thrusting into me. He runs a finger down my throat, feeling how far his dick is lodged inside of me. “We’ll train you to be our mindless, obedient little doll, and then… well, maybe we won’t let you go after that.”

With a muffled scream, I try to shove him away from me with my cuffed hands, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he drives into me harder. I claw at whatever I can reach—his arms, his stomach, his thighs.

It’s a mistake. Not because he retaliates, but because my helpless struggling makes him come.

Colton slows to a halt and lets out a deep, guttural groan. His cum shoots down my throat, making me gag uncontrollably. I can feel his cock throbbing against my tongue. It’s something that would’ve given me satisfaction if I were in this position voluntarily, but now, it just makes a small part of me shrivel up and die.

When Colton’s orgasm finally winds down, he pulls out of me. He drops to his knees and leans into the mattress for support. He’s panting, and he looks almost shocked, like he wasn’t expecting it to be that intense.

Maybe he wasn’t. To him, this isn’t even about his pleasure.

It’s about destroying me.

Colton’s eyes lock with mine as a small amount of cum dribbles out of my mouth. When I don’t move to wipe it away, he leans in and licks it up. Now I’m the one who’s shocked. He’s never seemed like the type to do something like that.

I frown. “Why—”

Colton spits the cum into my open mouth, eyes hard. “Swallow it, slut. It’s your job. I expect you to do it well.”

My chest burns, but I do as he says.

Now it makes sense.

Colton stands and leans over me again. My clit is aching to be touched, so when he finally does, a moan of relief accidentally slips free.

“That sure sounds like you’re enjoying this.” He adds more pressure, pulling a whimper out of me. “I told you this is what you need.”

“Please stop,” I whisper, even though I know he won’t. Even though I’m not sure if he’s right or wrong.

“Am I still the only man who’s ever made you come by playing with your cunt?”

I turn my head away and scrunch my eyes closed. I wish he’d just shut up. All his questions are so pointed. So painful.

Colton slaps my pussy hard enough to make me yelp. “Am I?”

“Why do you care?” It’s meant to come out sharp and angry, but instead, I sound breathless and needy.

I’m close to coming. Too close.

This can’t be happening.

He’s massaging tight circles into my clit in the exact same way I do to myself. I hate how quickly he’s learned my body when it took me years to figure it out myself. I hate that he can bend me to his will with a few strokes of his fingers.

Hate him, hate him, hate him.

“Answer the question,” he snaps impatiently, picking up the pace.

I gasp. Colton has me right on the edge, and I know he’ll happily shove me off it without any regard for how hard I’ll come crashing down.

“Haven,” he bites out.

I don’t want to say it. I never want to surrender to him, and I especially don’t want to like this. But as my orgasm crashes into me, all sense floods out of my body.

Just like always, Colton wins.

“Yes,” I cry. My back arches as electricity shoots through my body in horrifying shocks of pleasure.

“Good,” Colton growls.

He continues rubbing my clit, and after a few seconds, the friction turns near-painful. I try to squirm away from his touch, but he pins me down with his spare hand.

“Stop! It’s too much!”

“You can take it.” He goes faster, and when I scream, he slaps my pussy again.

Pain radiates from between my legs, but Colton finally stops. Shame floods my system as I realize what I just did—that I came at the hands of a man I can’t stand.

Colton disappears from my line of sight, and a moment later I feel him undoing my restraints. First, the spreader bar, then the cuffs on my wrists. Tears run down my cheeks, and I’m shaking, from rage or hatred or the cold.

Maybe all three.

I want to lash out, to claw Colton’s skin off until he looks on the outside the way I feel on the inside. But I also want to curl up and hide, far away from everyone and everything.

Maybe then I can finally escape.

Colton disappears through a door. The moment he’s gone, I bury my face in my hands. A sob rips itself free from my throat, causing my entire body to convulse.

I’m not sure if what Colton just did was worse than Isaiah. I know Colton has limits, but sometimes it feels like he doesn’t. Isaiah… If he has limits, I never found them. The fact that he hasn’t let me go yet—and that he threatened Julie’s life—proves that.

But what Colton just did is unforgivable. He doesn’t get to decide what I need to get past the trauma Isaiah caused me. I’m the only one who gets to decide that.

When he re-enters the room, I watch him, frozen in horror. He has something in his hand, and when he climbs onto the bed, I realize it’s a wet washcloth. When he reaches for my face—to waterboard me, maybe?—I panic and start kicking at him. He grabs my legs to stop me and drags me closer to him.

“No,” I yell. This time, I’m able to scratch at him, and I leave long, red marks down Colton’s arms.

He doesn’t even react—not in the way I expect, anyway.

“Hey, hey, stop.” He holds my wrists gently but firmly. “I’m just cleaning you up.”

I go still. “W-what?”

“You’re a mess. Do you want to stay like this all day?”

All I can do is stare at him in stunned silence. He’s an expert in giving me emotional whiplash, and I know I should expect it by this point, but he always manages to catch me off guard.

“Just hold still.” He moves in slowly, like I’m a timid animal, and I’m reminded of what Lucas told me earlier today.

Lucas. I know he hates me, but he’s always been protective. Especially of the women in his life. There’s no way he would’ve let Colton do this to me if he’d been here.

Colton wipes away my tears first, only for new ones to replace them. Next, he cleans the drool from around my mouth, and then he nudges my legs open.

“No! No, I can do that myself.”

But Colton shakes his head. “I promised to take care of you. It’s my job.”

“What you just did was not taking care of me. It—it was the opposite. It was cruel. It was torture.”

“As I said the other day—sometimes, pain is needed. Now open your damn legs.”

I do, but only because I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I don’t.

“You don’t know what’s best for me,” I mumble as he wipes between my legs. The warmth from the cloth is soothing, but I don’t let it lull me into a false sense of security. Colton isn’t getting the better of me again today.

“Sure, angel.”

“You don’t!”

His gaze flicks to mine for a split second, and he gives me an amused smile. “You’ll learn to accept it soon enough.”

God, he’s so fucking infuriating.

“I hate you,” I grind out, and the second he’s done, I snap my legs shut.

“So you’ve said.”

“And I want to kill you.”

“Then do it.”

My gaze locks onto his. His tone wasn’t mocking, and he isn’t wearing his signature smirk. But there’s no way he meant that.

“You’d stop me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Because you don’t have it in you.”

Fury sparks inside me, and I lunge at him. The force of my weight—and the fact that I caught Colton off guard—knocks him backward onto the bed. My hands are around his neck a split second later, squeezing as hard as I can.

Colton’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he doesn’t move to shove me off him. He just watches with a grin as his face turns red from lack of blood flow.

Is he actually going to let me murder him?

Am I actually going to follow through?

“Come on,” he says, voice strained. “You’re more creative than this. At least use a knife or something. Get messy with it. Have some fun.”

I stare down at him in shock. Visions of blood-stained sheets and Colton’s still, lifeless body lying on top of them fill my mind. It makes me sick to my stomach.

With a horrified gasp, I rear back, my hands falling from Colton’s neck. I can’t kill him. It’s not who I am. I’ve rejected a lot of the beliefs I was taught at Cornerstone, but not this one. I’d never be able to live with myself if I let myself become a killer.

Which means Colton is right.

He’s always fucking right.

What’s worse, though, is the realization that I’m sitting right on top of Colton’s erection. I’m strangling him, and the motherfucker is getting turned on by it.

I scramble off him, but Colton grabs me and shoves me onto my back. He’s on top of me a split second later, his thigh shoved between my legs and his green eyes almost glowing with hatred.

“You’re a coward,” he says, the words dripping in disgust.

I scrunch my eyes shut. “No.”

“That’s why you ran from your family. It’s why you betrayed us.”

“Shut up,” I whisper.

“It’s why you’re keeping unnecessary secrets.” He lets out an irritated breath when I shake my head. “It’s why you need me to force you to confront your fears.”

“That’s ridic—”

“And it’s why you can’t kill me. You’re a fucking coward, Haven Ashford.”

“Shut up,” I yell.

I move to hit him again, but he pins my arms to the bed. When I try to kick at him, he traps my legs underneath his.

“Enough,” he snaps.

The anger in his voice has my body involuntarily going rigid. Ice-cold terror slips into my veins. Isaiah used that tone with me, and it almost always meant I was about to turn into his punching bag.

For years, I’ve been saying I can’t go back to Cornerstone—to the abuse and the misery. But with Colton caging me in like this, with my body still stuck in the same perpetual state of panic, maybe I am back.

Maybe Cornerstone exists in more places than I think it does.

A heart-wrenching sob breaks free, and I turn my head so I don’t have to look into Colton’s eyes anymore. He’s following through on his promise. I’ve never felt more broken than I do right now.

I really, truly thought I’d escaped, but maybe I can’t. Maybe I’m destined to be trapped by monsters for the rest of my life.

Gently, Colton helps me get dressed. I can’t stop sobbing, but I can’t find the motivation to move. Not to cover myself, and not to get away from him. So when he picks me up and carries me upstairs, I let him. And when he sits on the living room couch and places me in his lap, I curl up into him because I have nowhere else to go.

“It’s never going to change,” I manage to say. Cornerstone will haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Colton whispers, rocking me back and forth. “It’ll all be worth it. I promise, angel.”

“It’s the same,” I sob. “It’ll always be the same.”

“I got you further than you’ve gotten on your own, didn’t I?”

More tears leak from my eyes. He’s not talking about the same thing I am, but he’s still right. He always is.

But this time, I’m not sure he realizes the true cost of what he just did.