Page 37 of Shattered In Darkness

My breath scorches her ear. “Tell me the truth,” I growl. “Tell me who you’re working for. Or I’ll make you beg for it.”

She shakes her head, eyes wet, jaw clenched. “I’m not—stop⁠—”

I plunge two fingers into her, dry at first, then wet with the heat of her. She’s soaked. Fucking drenched. Her body always knew better than her mouth. She twists, but I hold her in place. My grip bruises her wrists. I want her marked. I want her ruined for every other man who ever thought he could own her.

“Liar,” I whisper. “You say you want me gone, but your cunt says otherwise.”

Her hips buck against my hand, movements desperate and wild. Her eyes are murder and hunger at the same time, blue, wide, and fuming.

I feed off it.

I slow down, fingers wet and relentless, just circling her clit, keeping her right on the edge. Teasing, taunting, cruel. Her hips jerk, desperate. She shakes her head, begging without words, throat working on a sob.

“Still not talking?” I spit the words, flexing my grip on her. I want her to cry. I want her to admit it. “What are you hiding, Lola?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. I ram my fingers in fast, then stop. Then repeat. It’s punishment: let her think she’ll get what she wants, then rip it away.

Tears threaten the corners of her eyes, lips trembling. “Brody, please—I’m not, I swear, you’re hurting me, I swear I don’t know anything, please just stop⁠—”

God, she sounds wrecked. Wrecked by me.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I snarl. “You want to be treated rough? I can do rough. I can destroy you, Lola.”

My fingers curl inside her, crooking up, hitting exactly where it hurts, where it burns. She chokes out a moan, louder this time, hips jerking. I keep the pressure up, relentless, rooting out every sound she tries to swallow.

She whimpers. The muscles on her thighs clamp around my wrist. She’s right on the edge, shaking, helpless. I stop, pulling my hand back just as she starts to keen. I let her clit throb in the empty air, trembling, desperate, but I give her nothing.

“No,” I say. “You don’t get rewarded for lies. You get nothing.”

She looks at me with sorrow and terror in her eyes. I can almost see my reflection in her gaze. A cold beast. A reaper of the night.

“What happened to you? You’re not Brody anymore, I never thought you’d be the one to treat me like this. Other men, yeah, but never you.” Her fucking voice sounds desperate for an explanation.

I push my body against hers, and my hand glides up her stomach, lingering on her tits, then making a path to her neck. I hold it, ever so slightly, and I force her to look at me.

“Why am I like this? Are you really that dense? Or do you just not care? You fucking broke me. You’re nothing to me, Lola, not anymore. Now you’re just another target.”

“Brody…” she gasps, voice thin and pretty as a broken thing. “Please…”

Please what? Stop? Keep going? I could wring her out until she forgets her own fucking name.

“You think I don’t see it?” My face turns to a scowl. “You think you can fuck around and lie to my face and walk away? That’s not how this works. You’re not special. You’re just mine to use now, Bambi.”

Her hips—fuck, her hips—rub up against my thigh and she’s wet again, wetter than before. Even now, even sobbing, even shamed and pinned.

“You’re disgusting,” she hisses, her voice destroyed. “You’re sick. I hate you.”

I smile and squeeze her cheeks, squeezing her mouth into an O. “Too bad you love how it feels when I’m inside you, Bambi.”

“Let go,” she says, gutted, voice shredded. “You don’t get to do this. Not after what you did to me.”

She thinks she can weaponize the past against me. She thinks she can dress her filth up in victimhood and walk away like I won’t call her on it.

“I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want, Lola, because you’re still mine.”

She shakes her head, sometimes slow, sometimes shuddering. My cock throbs, almost painful. If I wanted, I could have her on all fours, choking, crying, begging for relief. But she doesn’t deserve that. Not yet.

I slam the question again: “Were you at Martinez garage? Yes or no.”