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She’s still trying to fight me off, but all it does is make her ass bounce up and down. I watch for a moment, mesmerized, before spitting on her asshole. She recoils, her hole clenching tighter. “Trust me, you want to relax.” I laugh.
“Lucas. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t you dare.” I take her by the hips, digging my fingers into her firm flesh until she sucks in a pained gasp. “Don’t you act like you have the right to talk to me like we’re equals. We’ve never been equals. And all you’ve done is spit on the trust I tried to give you.”
She sobs at the pressure from my head against her back door. But I notice she’s not fighting as hard anymore. Like she knows there’s nothing she can do to stop me.
I roll my hips, pushing forward, and her body tenses in time with a broken scream tearing itself from her throat. I close my eyes, lost in sensation. Her muscles grip me so tight, like a vise, but still, I push my way deeper.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” I groan, pulling her by the hips while I force my way in.
There’s no going slow. No holding back. I need to punish her, and I do, taking her hard, relishing the way she softly weeps into the pillow. I place a hand on the back of her head and hold it down, my balls tightening and lifting at the sound of her muffled sobs.
And every time my balls hit the backs of her thighs, I remember what I could have lost tonight. All thanks to her. Nothing I could do would be too harsh after what she’s done.
“I’m going to come,” I announce, and I think she sobs in relief this time. “Where do you want it? Should I fill your asshole with my cum? So you can feel it dripping out?”
I slam myself deep again, close to the edge. “And when you lie here…” I grunt before thrusting again, “and you feel it… you’ll remember why it’s there.”
The rush comes over me all at once, and I give in to it, roaring out my release, pumping cum into her until it spills out around my shaft and runs down her thighs. “Not so tight anymore,” I observe with a chuckle after I pull out and survey my handiwork. She only weeps in response, a broken, haunting sound that satisfies me deeper than any orgasm ever could.
“Remember,” I mutter as I stand and tuck myself into my pants. “This is all your doing. I did everything I could to help you avoid this.” All she does is lie there, trembling. I pull her pants up for her, but that’s the extent of the dignity she deserves—and that’s only because I know the guards will check on her, and I don’t need their fucking questions.
The last thing I see before closing the door and leaving her alone is the heaving of her body as she breaks down, sobbing harder than before. It gives me something to smile about on my way back to the apartment.
33
DELILAH
How many days has it been? I don’t have the first idea. Time has ceased to mean anything all over again. Just like before. No clock, no windows, no way to tell whether it’s day or night in this always bright room.
For maybe the millionth time, my eyes sweep the walls, the corners, the ceiling. There has to be a camera somewhere. I just haven’t found it yet. Every time I close my eyes for more than a second, somebody pounds on the door. I haven’t slept yet.
How long can a person live without sleep? I feel like I read that once, but now I can’t remember. Not that it really matters since I have no way to tell how much time has passed. I could lie here and count the seconds, but that would only drive me crazier than I’m already going.
I can’t believe I’m doing this again. I should be used to it by now, though this feels worse than before. Maybe that’s because now, I have something else to add to the torment… guilt. I fucked up. I should have known Quinton would find a way to ruin everything. Marcel doesn’t know him like I do. I know how far he’s willing to go for Aspen—not only cold-blooded murder but weeks and months of torturing somebody before killing them.
I should have said something to Preston on the phone. I should have warned him. But most of all, I shouldn't have betrayed Lucas. Logically I know there wasn’t any other way. It’s not like he would ever choose me above his daughter. He probably wouldn't choose me over anyone.
I don’t even owe him anything, so why does it feel like I do? Why do I feel guilty for betraying him? And why do I want him to forgive me?
