Page 166 of Scavenger's Oath

But my heart cracks open hearing the words. Memories flash through my mind of agreements I made with them, promises whispered in that cell.

“If I make it worth it, you’ll protect me?”

“You want food, shelter… then earn it.”

Oh, God! When they wanted to leave. Were they trying to get rid of me?

Was I deluded? Was it never more than a trade?

Derek’s fingers travel higher, so I clamp my thighs shut but his hand just keeps pressing.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I choke out.

He laughs, low and dirty. “You let them touch you likethis, didn’t you? Or maybe you didn’t let them. Maybe they just took what they wanted. Probably passed you around like the camp whore.”

Even though I don’t want to believe it, his words ring true. My chest aches, a painful lump in my throat causing my eyes to well with tears.

I try to twist away but he grabs my ankle and holds it down, his fingers pushing up, under the shirt.

And then I feel it. His fingers sliding along the seam of me. I gasp and jerk back.

He chuckles, following me again, climbing onto the mattress slowly. “No panties? Fuck, you really have been broken in.”

“Stop, Derek. Please,” I cry, tears spilling over as I slap at him.

Derek just catches my wrist with one hand and pins it to my body. His elbow presses into my neck, digging the metal in, while his other hand keeps fighting with my thighs.

“You squirm just like I knew you would,” he whispers. “All bark, no bite. You remember how to moan, Ivy? Or did they fuck the sound out of you?”

He’s too strong and not giving up, I can’t think of anything else to do, so I spit in his face.

Derek pauses.

I feel my stomach drop in anticipation.

But he just wipes it off, collecting it with his fingers and grins. “God, I love a little fight.”

Then his face darkens, and he punches his spit covered fingers between my thighs, piercing through my entrance with painful speed.

A scream tears through my throat as my legs kick, my other hand lashing out. But he blocks it.

Straddling one of my thighs, he attempts to hold me down, breath hot on my neck as his body dwarfs mine.

“Still tight, huh?” he growls against my cheek. Then hums. “Still soft. Thought they would’ve ruined you. Left this pussy gaping like a hallway.”

He thrusts his two fingers roughly, before curling them and pressing his thumb into my clit.

Gasping, I let out a wretched cry—conflicted by the revulsion tangling with a cruel echo of pleasure. But his forearm presses down on my chest to hold me flat against the mattress.

“They thought they could steal you,” he growls, low and filthy. “Those fucking thieves. Think I don’t know what they did to you? Think I don’t see the way you still squirm for it?”

“Get the fuck off me!” I rasp.

“Oh, I will,” he murmurs. “Right after I ruin you for them.”

He pulls his fingers out and starts undoing his belt, the click of that buckle is like a gunshot in my ears.

And I go feral, kicking out as hard as I can. “No!” I scream, thrashing under him, my knee catching his ribs. He swears and tries to shove me down again, but I don’t stop.