Page 25 of Stained In Sin (The Twisted Trilogy #1)

Evelyn

After last night, I feel a sense of freedom.

I’m almost giddy. No one, not even Astra, made me feel like shit for what I had done.

Instead, I was admired and respected. We came home, as I promised, and Astra ended up leaving early this morning.

Nothing bad happened, and I’m not living in fucking guilt.

You loved it. You weren’t hiding anymore.

I turn on my shower to get ready for class. I almost forgot that I had class today because I was so hyped up from the night before. I haven’t been to class in a week since the whole kidnapping. I’m not looking forward to all of the questions people will have.

My parents haven’t even spoken to me. It’s like I wasn’t even gone. Not that I can tell them, but some concern would be nice.

I step into my shower and wash my body as the song “Freak” by Doja Cat filters throughout the en-suite bathroom. Thank God for laser hair removal—my showers are always quick and easy.

I step out from my shower and grab my fresh towel, which I laid out.

I drape it around myself and step into my closet to get dressed.

I throw on a pair of my favorite leggings and a sports bra.

I pair it with the matching pullover. I put on my tennis shoes and step back into the bathroom to finish my hair.

I always love feeling refreshed and today is going to be a good fucking day.

I blow-dry my hair and pull it into a clean high p ony. Then I do some light make-up. I glance in the mirror, looking at my glowing complexion. I don’t even recognize myself. You aren’t yourself right now. You’ll hate yourself for what you’ve done.

I spray my perfume and walk through it. I won’t let the negative thoughts ruin my day.

I walk out of the bathroom, and I am immediately thrown against the wall. The wind gets knocked out of me as I come face to face with the Devil. He holds me in place with his forearm pressing into my chest; his touch is unforgiving.

My chest feels like it is caving in on itself. Pain blossoms in my back from the impact. He knows what you did.

“Miss me,” he says with an evil grin.

I squirm beneath his grip. Trying to slip free. He pushes against me harder. His eyes look lifeless, and his demeanor is calm. A shiver runs through my bones as I feel the chill in his stare. Don’t give up. Fight. He doesn’t own you. He has someone else.

“Why don’t you go back to your whore. I’m not fucking scared of you.

” I glare at him. Holding in the tears that threaten my eyes.

I press my eyes shut, trying to calm the emotional storm brewing inside of me—the image of him with the blonde flickers into my brain. You don’t need him. You deserve better.

“You should be.” His voice remains calm as he swiftly places his hand around my throat, threatening me. I feel warmth between my legs as my body betrays me. You shouldn’t want him. You gave yourself to him. He left you.

Tears gather in my eyes, standing on the edge of my waterline, daring to spill over. I look into his eyes and I am met with a cruel man. He’s fucking smiling at me.

“You don’t know anything, princess.”

My vision starts to tunnel, as the pressure on my neck becomes too intense. He’s going to kill me. You’re dying. You have to fight him.

I swing up my knee, hitting him in his manhood. He releases my grip on my neck, and I slide down onto the floor. Choking as my lungs starve for oxygen. I scramble across the floor, heading for the main door, when my head is pulled back.

He fists my hair and throws me down onto my stomach. The pain in my ribs has me wheezing. The tears stream down my face. There is no escape.

He slams his weight onto my back and grabs my wrists. Completely immobilizing me. I scream for help. No one can hear you. No one is home.

“I know what happened at the club, Evelyn.”

The lump in my throat feels impossible to swallow.

“I know everything you did.”

I cry as my face is flush against the floor.

“Now tell me, Ms. Blackwell. Why did you do that, when you belong to me?”

“I-I….. I’m not yours.” I choke out in a sob. The pain in my ribs intensifies with each tremble that travels through my body. You are his. You crave him.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?”

His face inches from my ear as it rings from his words.

“You were with her. I saw you! I’m not fucking yours!”

“You know nothing, Evelyn— Your body is mine,” he says as he traces his hand over my trembling body, “your mind is mine,” he laces his fingers into my hair and rips my head back.

He licks up the side of my face, tasting my tears, “even your tears are mine… and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

I shudder at his actions. His words bring me fear. But you like it.

He untangles his fingers from my hair, and my head rests on the cool floor, covered with my tears. I hear the ripping of tape, and panic grips my chest. I thrash around, trying to free my arms and move his solid body off of me.

It’s no use. He is stronger. He pinches my wrists together, binding my wrists behind me. He pins his knee into my back and wrestles my ankles together. Binding them as well.

I’m at his mercy. He won’t hurt you. Yes, he will.

He removes his knee from my back, and I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I hear heavy footsteps as his combat boots move into my field of vision. He crouches down next to my face. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to meet his eyes.

“Look at me.” His tone is softer. My body betrays me once again. I slowly open my bloodshot eyes to meet his. My tears subside, as I have none left to give.

His lips curl, and his eyes skate over my body. I shudder.

He stands again, and his boots travel back out of my vision. A light touch skims up the back of my leg, and I feel as if he has lit my skin on fire.

“Did you lie to me?”

Confusion slaps me across the face at his question.

“N-no…” My voice is hoarse.

He grabs the top of my leggings and pulls them down to my knees, exposing myself to him. I bury my head into the floor, ashamed of myself. You are his. This is what you want. You want him to use you.

His fingers glide over my folds, and he shoves them in forcefully. I let out a whimper. Why does my body want him?. He is the fucking worst. No, he’s not. He’s the best. He sees you.

He moves his fingers in and out of me quickly as my body tenses, unable to move. The pressure builds in my core. The pain in my ribs goes numb. I feel the orgasm I chase moving closer.

It stops.

I sink into the floor, not wanting to acknowledge the ache that throbs within me.

My leggings are pulled back into place, and tears well in my eyes once more. Don’t let them fall. He will know you are weak.

I am lifted off the floor by my arms, and he leans me against the wall, placing a hand on either side of me. I try to keep my balance, but my ankles are unstable being this close together. He lifts his fingers to my mouth.

My lips part automatically. What are you doing? Who are you?

“Suck.”

He shoves his fingers harshly into my mouth, and I gag. He pulls them out, inspecting them between us.

“I’d say you’re a fucking liar. You will always be mine,” he says through gritted teeth.

He hurls me over his shoulder and hauls me out of the front of my house. He is kidnapping you. He will never let you go.

My pulse is erratic, and I can’t breathe. I want to fight him and free myself from his game. No, you want him to take you. It doesn’t matter what I want. I never had a choice.