Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
She glared into the eyes of a monster who didn’t respond kindly to disappointment and dragged her response, bucking and sour, from the pit in her gut. “You want to fuck my filthy cunt? I’m just a whore.”
He stepped into her, toe to toe, his exhale scorching her face. “That’s why I’m fucking your ass. I’ll come in your bowels while my property comes in your face. Turn around.”
The floor tipped. Her ankle gave out, and she righted herself. She was teetering in unchartered territory. Josh was her first virgin boy. The other boys had not only been promiscuous but also experienced in anal sex. And by the time they’d attended their intro meeting, they’d been conditioned enough to accept the kind of demand Traquero was making.
If she denied Traquero, would he pull out a hidden weapon? Would he back out of the deal? Even if he let them leave unmolested, her rejection would wound his sense of superiority. An unhappy client meant a death warrant for the two people she’d sacrificed everything to protect.
A shiver chilled her blood. Shit. Fucking shit. She swallowed, held her spine straight. Van had taken her anally countless times. She was already ruined and would do anything to spare Josh that fate.
As she turned, a moan bellowed from the woman hanging beside them. Her mewls transformed into an ear-piercing shriek. Good God, he was shocking her again. Her body thrashed and fell quiet. Liv choked back the bile burning her throat.
“Bend over.” Traquero’s hands gripped the hem of her skirt, shoved it to her waist, and fisted her panties, ripping them off. “Eyes on me, slave.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. No way could Josh look at him without a face full of emotion. If he lost his shit, they might not leave there alive. If he showed any concern for her, the raping twat-hater would see through their facade. She hoped to hell Josh was working this out in his head.
As she bent over his lap, their gazes collided. The connection lasted a fraction of a second, but it was all she needed. He wanted to fight for her. It was there in the pink rims of his eyes, in the blotch of red staining his cheeks. His lowered chin was fiercely set, his mouth a pale line of anguish.
He raised his head, blinked up at Traquero, the emotion gone. He’d swallowed his struggle deep inside where it would fester and eat him alive. He did that for her. For Mom and Mattie. Her eyes filled with tears. Not for the pain she was about to endure, but for the man who would suffer it with her.
When a zipper sounded, reality slammed into her in violent waves of tremors. Her teeth chattered behind the scarf, and her stomach heaved bile through her chest. Think of Josh. Protect Mom and Mattie. She bolstered her voice with steel. “Condom.”
Traquero’s pants rustled, and a foil wrapper fluttered to the floor. Sweat trickled beneath her corset. She grabbed hold of the seat back and planted her elbows on Josh’s thighs. His body was a stone pillar to which she clung, every hard inch of him bracing her.
Fingers singed her hips. The cold, hard tip of Traquero’s dick pressed against her rectum. Her muscles tensed on the verge of springing. He shoved.
The burn ripped through her and cut her breath. Pinpricks seared the backs of her eyes. He didn’t give her time to adjust, pounding her in a relentless beating. Oh God, this wasn’t how Van fucked her. Not even close.
Dots blurred her vision. Her fingers cramped around the chair back. “Slow down, goddammit.” Her command was thick with saliva and cracked with tears.
The vicious gouging in her ass sped up. Cruel, motherfucking prick. She shook with so much hate, her thoughts swarmed toward rash decisions, all of them involving Traquero’s insides splattered over the room. As his dick punched a fist of fire inside her over and over, she tucked all those images into the harsh, broken chambers of her soul and soothed herself with a promise. The son of a bitch would die. Her throat burned, her eyes smearing. Maybe not tonight but very fucking soon.
His punishing stabs punctured and branded. Fire and ice. Stretch and rip. Fuck, it hurt so much. She was sure her skin was tearing. She wanted to die.
Eventually, her mind recoiled, pulling her into that lonely corner inside herself where it was just her and her songs and numb paralysis.
She searched for the right tune, a calming verse, fumbling, arms outstretched. But instead of her voice, she found Josh’s waist, hugged it, pressed her forehead against the chains on his abs, the velvet skin on his back warming her fingertips.
The hurt in her rectum was a dull burn, rising through her. She cleaved to Josh with her hands and her heart. He was all around her, his breaths singing for her, his shackled arms floating above her, his tensile muscles absorbing her pain.