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I blink back my surprise as he thrusts deeper. Mypussy is so fucking sore, but I can’t move, I can’t even breathe.
He pounds into me with a ferocity that wrenches my shoulders caught up in the shackles above me. I know that there is no way I can give into the pleasure. It’s too soon, too painful, too overwhelming. Moments ago, I was a virgin, now I’ve claimed two lovers and who knows how many more to come. My mind starts to close down as that thought is dark and frightening.
With a low growl, he thrusts deep and then freezes as he shoots his load into me.
He pulls away, leaving me in shock. But there’s no time to process, no moment to catch my breath because Charlie is already stepping forward.
“Shh, love,” he soothes. There’s a tenderness in his touch that differs from Ben’s intensity. Gentle fingers brush against my skin, tracing invisible lines only he can see.
I whimper and shake my head. “Please. No more.”
But it’s like my voice is lost in a sea of desire.
Charlie’s hands, steady and warm, dip into a bowl of water beside the altar. When he wrings out the sponge, it drips, clear droplets falling onto my skin, cooling the burning that throbs between my thighs. His fingers are gentle as they cleanse me, wiping away the remnants of Alistair’s and Ben’s possession. I flinch when the sponge brushes too close to the rawness.
His care is a paradox, kindling a fire in the pit of my stomach despite the icy dread coiling around myheart. It’s a cruel game, this pretence of tenderness, and yet my body betrays me, responding to his touch with an eagerness that tastes like shame.
As he discards the sponge, his hand replaces it, cupping me with an intimacy that has tears spilling down my cheeks. The sound of my sobs fills the chamber, echoing back at me like a chorus of ghosts. He looms over me and pushes his cock inside, slow at first, a careful exploration that belies the hunger in his eyes. My back arches against the onslaught, seeking more even as my mind screams in protest.
His pace quickens, each thrust igniting sparks that race along my nerves. The pleasure mounts, a rising tide threatening to wash away reason, dignity, self. I cling to the edge of sanity with my fingertips, teetering on the brink as Charlie drives me closer to oblivion.
In an unfathomable act of betrayal to my mind, my pussy convulses around his cock in a climax that rips a strangled cry from my throat. It’s a brief respite, a momentary lapse in the relentless assault on my senses, leaving me hollowed out and gasping for air as he unloads into me with a satisfied grunt that echoes around the chamber.
But there’s no time to recover, no peace to be found, as the chamber erupts into chaos. Voices clash against the stony silence, sharp and jarring. Robbie and Eric are dragged in, their protests a noise that grates against my raw edges.
“No,” I whimper, shaking my head as my terrified gaze catches Charlie’s. “Please, no!”
“Don’t worry, love,” he murmurs. “They won’t touch you.”
Eyes wide, I stare at Robbie and Eric and the other four men who anointed me in Stanley’s blood. The remainder of that earlier horror churns my stomach, my nakedness a glaring declaration of what’s been taken from me, what’s been done to me. There’s horror etched into every line of their faces, reflecting my own inner turmoil. They’re seeing me broken, desecrated on an altar that was never meant to bear witness to such acts.
I’m stripped bare all over again, exposed in ways that go beyond the physical.
Shock ripples over my bullies’ features, eyes wide and mouths agape. They’re trying to make sense of the scene, but it’s clear—their brains can’t process the nightmare in front of them fast enough.
Charlie’s hands are warm on my skin as he unlocks the shackles that confine my wrists. The clink of metal is loud in the hushed room, and when the last chain falls away, my arms follow, heavy and lifeless. His fingers gently rub where the cold iron bit into my flesh, soothing the raw, angry marks as Ben rubs my arms to get the blood to flow again. The dull ache is no match for the burning between my legs, the wounds on my back, or the gaping maw in my soul.
“Good girl,” Charlie whispers, but his tenderness feels like a lie. It’s a softness that doesn’t erase the harshness of everything that has happened since I set foot in this chamber, this house. The gentleness does nothing to mend the brokenness inside me.
I’m shivering, but not only from the cold. It’s the aftermath, the vulnerability, the lingering echo of all the events rolled into one that has me quaking.
“Eric spread rumours about you,” Ben murmurs into my ear, his breath warm against my skin as he continues to caress my arms. The words slither through my mind, cold and nasty.
“Robbie lit the match that torched your place,” Charlie adds, his tone dripping with disdain. It’s all a twisted chorus, their accusations gnawing at my thoughts.
“Liars,” Robbie spits out, his voice edged with desperation as Alex kicks him in the back, and he falls to his knees. Eric stands beside him, shaking his head vehemently, eyes wide with disbelief.
“What is this fucked up shit?”
“Think of what they’ve done to you, Ever,” Alistair presses, his stare unyielding. “They tore your friends away from you. Burned your house down. Isolated you.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, my gaze darting between Robbie and Eric. My chest heaves with each breath, my mind racing with images of flames, betrayal, loss.
“They placed a bet to see who could drug and rape you first,” Damien murmurs.
Shaking my head, I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. What is this? What are they doing?
“They’ve fucked you over,” Ben says, his voice low and coaxing. “Bullied you, hurt you, made your friends hate you.”
“How...” I trail off as words are impossible right now.
“Think about your home, charred and broken because of him,” Charlie adds, nodding toward Robbie with a sneer.
The room is silent except for my breathing, harsh and ragged against the stillness. The tension hangs heavy, like a storm cloud ready to burst.
Alistair’s hand is steady as he offers me the knife, the blade catching flickers of candlelight. His eyes lock onto mine, blue ice burning with expectation. “You have a choice to make, Ever Knight,” he murmurs, his voice a dark melody that pulls at the strings of my will. “And make no mistake that youwillchoose. Which one will you kill first?”
