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Her eyes flickered open and I could feel her staring up at me, watching my chin, my neck.
I didn’t give her my look.
“Da—Damen?” Her voice came rough, like a rusty nail had been pounded through her windpipe.
I didn’t stop, didn’t glance down at her. Just continued on with my mission.
Without a reply, her body stiffened slightly and I felt a new surge of pain cracking into her head. I shifted down to the middle of her forehead to suck it away before it could spin out of control.
She went silent. Still. Letting me do what I was doing until I had covered the entirety of her forehead and was back into her hairline, stealing away every spark of pain from her head.
With her pain gurgling in my chest, frantic to not die off, I straightened above her, balancing on my knees.
She followed my every movement, her usually bright green eyes now dulled from her body being ravaged by the pain.
I didn’t say anything to her—couldn’t say anything to her.
Not yet.
She gave the tiniest nod to herself, her look going to pinpricks on me. “Are you satisfied?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Satisfied? No, never. Not satisfied by the multitude of things that I needed to be satisfied by at the moment. Her pain. Her torture. Her screams. My mouth on hers. My cock sinking into her slick body. Her screams as I forced her body to bend to me in orgasm after orgasm.
No. Not satisfied at all.
She heaved a breath, her mouth closing as she swallowed hard. Her eyes went upward, staring at the stone wall above her head instead of at me.
She exhaled, her eyes finding mine. “More torture, then? You took the pain away only to let it overcome me again? To make it worse when you brother arrives?”
I wasn’t sure if I should be happy she still thought Cletus was on his way, or disgusted that she would believe I would ever do that to her.
I wasn’t sure what that said about me. About her. About us.
Probably that I was a sick, twisted fuck that she could never trust and probably never did. Or that I really was the monster she thought I was.
Pushing off the floor, I got to my feet, stepping over her body and taking several strides toward the opening of the cell.
I stopped by the doorway, turning back to her, my voice as apathetic as I could make it. “The shackles around your ankles and wrists, Ada…they were never locked. The door was never locked. You could have left this rathole at any time.”
With that, I turned and walked out the doorway, my chest still burning with her pain sitting like hot tar in my lungs.
Chapter7
{ Ada }
Well…this was awkward.
I lay on the cold, dank stone for long minutes, staring up at the curved ceiling of stone blocks.
The pain was gone. Damen had left me with only phantom whispers of it drifting through my body.
I could move again, function. Yet I was stuck here.
Stuck here by his words.
He’d never chained me down.
