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Unlike other recent nights, when she wakes up, it isn’t a slow, arduous process of clearing the nightmares and becoming aware of her surroundings. She snaps awake, her eyes wild and filled with terror, a sheen of sweat over her skin, as her breath comes out in heavy pants.
Declan immediately begins soothing her, but she pushes his hands away, putting her head between her knees as she takes deep breaths in and out. My hand lands on her lower back and I can feel her body trembling under it. I rub circles into her skin and Declan kisses her temple, but she shakes her head.
“It doesn’t feel good.” My hand immediately stops and Declan withdraws. Scar normally thrives on gentle touches through and after her nightmares, they calm her, replace the horrifying memories.
“It hurts. Everything hurts.” The words are torn from her raw throat. A shiver runs down my back and my hands shake as that useless, helpless feeling rises again.
“What do you need?” Declan asks, his firm commanding tone once again forcing a calm through me. Through Scar too.
Her wide, green eyes lift and flick between the two of us. “Hurt me.”
I rear back as if she slapped me with her words. “What?” I ask in disbelief.
She nods her head, her eyes now filling with tears. “Hurt me,” she repeats in a whisper. “Replace the pain they branded me with with your own. Make me forget about my scars.” She huffs out a breath so full of resignation and defeat, I don’t know what to make of it. “Make me forget their touch. Please,” she begs.
I don’t know if I can. Not the way she means.
Pressing my lips against hers, I silence her words. I always want to give her what she needs, but this is something I don’t know that I’m capable of doing. Get rough with her? Sure. Spank her ass? Hell yes. But intentionally hurt her the way she’s asking? I wouldn’t even know where to start.
She pushes me back in a huff. “Not like that,” she snaps, a wild look in her eyes.“Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like you want to destroy me.” Her words come out hard and desperate. So unlike how she normally speaks to any of us. It’s different from the needy moans that slip past her lips in the heights of her orgasm. There’s a fine tremble in her hands and I know she isn’t herself.
I let my eyes rove over her face and body and notice her pupils are blown for the first time. “Scar,” I whisper. She’s always so strong, so sure, I almost don’t know what to do when she seems just a hair’s breadth away from shattering all over again.
I never realized how fragile she really was until I saw her face her worst nightmares. Now she wants me to become one. Needs me to.
My eyes flick behind her to where Declan stands, watching the entire interaction with apprehension lining his every feature. He meets my eyes and gives me a slow nod. A silent promise he will stay, watch to make sure she’s okay, to make sure nothing I do goes too far. He’s always been best at reading her silent cues.
My decision is an impulsive, snap second. I thought I could never hurt her, but it turns out what I really can’t do is tell her no. I lean back into her space, this time instead of kissing her, I catch her lower lip between my teeth. Her eyes widen, and as I sink them in deeper, a spark of life enters her gaze. It emboldens me, eases my fear, and I increase the pressure until a sharp tang of blood rolls over my tongue. My instinct is to soothe it with my tongue, but I don’t. I pull her against me, kissing her fast and hard, the blood from her lip smearing over both of our lips.
Trailing my lips down her chin and neck, I leave bloodied marks as I go until I reach where her neck meets her shoulder. I sink my teeth into her skin, feeling the muscles tense. I bite her hard enough to bruise and her moan fuels a desire I wasn’t aware of having.
There’s no room here for tentative touches or gentle caresses. Only fast, hard, painful. My dick stirs in my pants as I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze the sides and force her to look up at me. Desire burns there, vanquishing any remaining hesitations. I grip her pajama top in my fist and rip it from her body. The thin fabric of it shreds easily in my fist and I discard it on the floor. Her gorgeous tits sway with the force of the motion, but her nipples tighten as they’re exposed to the cool air.
Using my grip on her throat, I yank her to me and smash my mouth against hers. Wanting her lips swollen and sensitive. She gives in easily, her body and lips both pliable against me, moving wherever I direct her. No fight. No fear. No resistance.
I pull my knife from my pocket and cut her sleep shorts from her body without ever pulling away from her mouth. She whimpers against my lips and I take that moment to sink my teeth into her lower lip again, making the bleeding start again. Dropping my knife, I trail my free hand over her exposed skin, loving the way goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.
She starts to pant as I put distance between us, releasing her throat, I force her to turn over. She lays flat on her stomach, her head resting on a pillow and turns her face to watch Declan at the side of the bed. I strip quickly, wrapping my hand around my dick and give it a few, slow pumps while I focus on her satin-covered ass. I like the way the dark color looks against her creamy skin.
It would look even better against red.
A crack fills the air as I bring my hand down sharply over one cheek. The strike hits directly over the line of her underwear. She cries out in surprise, her skin immediately reacting to the hard slap and rapidly turns a bright red. My eyes flick to Declan and he gives me a nod of reassurance. The sound she made didn’t give away whether she liked the smack or not, but something on her face must have.
My hands grip her hips to yank her ass up and put it on display. Declan slides a pillow under her and I bring my hand down against her ass several more times in rapid succession until both cheeks are bright in color.
I was right, the dark purple of her panties are stunning against the red. I decide to leave them on.
Sinking my fingers into her hair at the back of her neck, I pull her up until she’s on her elbows and knees. I keep one hand locked in her locks of hair, and use the other to slip her panties off to the side. I run my finger through her slit.
She’s wet, but not dripping. Not like how I normally take her. How we all normally do. There’s been much less foreplay, but isn’t that all part of what she wants? The pain of having to force my way into her.
Without hesitation, I do exactly that. She cries out as I bottom out in one hard thrust. She’s tight, and not wet enough, but she still feels good. I keep my eyes locked on Declan, trusting him entirely to be able to read her, to know her and not let me go too far.
I tighten my grip on her hair and feel her pussy spasm around my hard length. It eases my doubts, but I can't tear my eyes away from D. I trust him more than myself in this moment. I pull out of her, and slam right back in, all the way to the base. This time, I slide in easier. Her wet heat welcoming me instead of fighting against me.
Some of the anxiety trickles away as I begin to read her body like I normally do. Her soft pants are music to my ears as I pick up the pace. Keeping it rough and brutal as she currently craves. The sound of flesh hitting flesh drives my needs higher. I pull her hair, making her cry out again and the sound is so sweet.
“More,” she begs. I tighten my grip and meet Declan’s eyes again before pointedly dropping my gaze to where his hard on is straining the front of his jeans. He tilts his head, this time he’s the one hesitating, but I nod in encouragement as I yank Scar’s head back.
