“I did them to Randal?”
“Fuck Randal,” Adrian spat. “Thatprick—”
“You let him rape me, invited him into my cell.” It was a cold reminder for both of us, biting and harsh. For me, it was a disgusting memory, but one rectified with the CO’s death. For Adrian, it wasn’t clear, but his expression fell, giving away nothing but that it wasn’t a good thing to revisit for him.He’d made it clear that his feelings on the matter were complex.
“I told you I didn’t know what I was doing,” he explained. “You made me sick, still do. I wanted…”
“To punish.” I stood up. “To destroy.”
“Yes.” He paused. “Lean over the balcony.”
My eyes narrowed. “But you haven’t caught me yet.” I showed him the space between us, all few feet of air that he hadn’t crossed. When he stepped forward, my eyes darted to the balcony, and my body jolted. We were still playing that game; I just didn’t know if it was one I wanted to win.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Adrian warned, his eyes darting to the edge.
“Don’t I dare what?” I asked. “Don’t die? Don’t try to escape? Don’t take my death from your hands?”
He squeezed his lips together, and I watched the tension he hated zip through him — I lived for it,wanted to see more of it, paint his skin with it. I just knew, however he placed his hands on me, be it in violence or sex, it would be explosive.
Stepping closer to the balcony edge, one hand on the ledge, running my fingers over the dusty banister, I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head.
Then I did it.
The second I moved to jump, Adrian leaped forward and grabbed my hair, driving my face into the banister and making me cry out in surprise.
Right away, blood gushed from my nose, the aching stab of pain making me shout and laugh when metal flooded my mouth. Adrian threw me from the edge, smashing me into a few of the chairs as my body crashed through the ancient structure. The whole balcony shuddered from his force.
“I thought we’d decided I get your death,” he shouted down at me, stalking closer as I tried to rearrange my limbs. “That those last few breaths, that last decision, were mine.”
“Yours,” I breathed, steadying my heart, placing my hand over it to prove it was still beating. He studiedevery breath; proof I hadn’t taken anything else. Not yet.
“So get up.” He pointed the baton at me like it was a knife or a gun, and for a moment I let him imagine all the things he would do to me if I disobeyed. Then, on unsteady legs, I rose, too curious to see his plan to not participate. He gestured the baton to the banister with a tilt of his head and a firm frown, so I obliged, stepping toward it, wary of having my nose smashed in again.
It was broken, crooked now and sharp with pain, like bone scraped cartilage.Throbbing with each pump of my heart.
We were seeing things through, though, so I left it. My nose being wonky was about to be the last of my issues. There was a bubble of excitement making my belly ache as I stepped past Adrian and stopped right at the edge.
“Your death is mine,” Adrian repeated like a mantra. “Remember that, for fuck’s sake. That’s the only way to see this through.”
He came up behind me, his naked chest hot and sweaty as he pressed it to my back, wrapping an armaround me and squeezing my tit through the thin cotton of the shirt I’d stolen. I wanted to be bare for him, to strip down to nothing and press our spent bodies together. But I stayed still.
With his other hand, Adrian used the baton to lift the shirt, running the cool metal along my hips, pressing it to the top of my pussy before dragging it up my stomach, bringing fabric with it, exposing me to the room.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, not even bothering to hide how much he was affecting me. “You’ve seen what I can do with a baton, Adrian. What can you do?”
His teeth sank into my ear, biting until my lobe throbbed, hot and angry. I gasped, leaned into it, then he forced my head to turn, kissing the blood from my skin as it poured from my still-bleeding nose. My head rolled back onto his shoulder as he pressed himself into me harder. Then he shoved his tongue into my mouth, coated in blood and hunger and a possessiveness unmatched.
Whatever this was… it wasn’t going to end well.
I let my hands roam behind me, touching his body, enjoying all those firm ridges and dips that came fromyears of taking care of yourself. I was softer, never cared for exercise, and it meant we molded together so well, my softness squashing into his hard in the most perfect way. He’d hate it, knowing his body caused me no pain, only a cocoon to burrow into. So I let myself enjoy it all until it was ripped away once again.
As he devoured me, he moved the baton around my hip, then forced it between us so it rested between my ass cheeks, right against my hole. The top of it pushed against my asshole, but not in, just there, a warning, a memory.
“I killed one of the men like this, you know,” I told him, ripping my mouth away from his, taking in deep, messy breaths. “Shoved that baton so far up his ass it almost disappeared.”
“I know,” he replied with another biting kiss. “Brandon Walsh, your first. Age twenty-two at the time of his death, already cautioned for lewd behavior. A recent report of rape against him.”
“One that was dropped,” I finished, darkness shuttering across my vision at the memories. “He looked so smug when I saw him in the bar when he should have been locked up, Adrian. I had no choice.”
