Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Still, I orgasmed. There’s no denying that I got pleasure from fucking Everleigh.
As soon as I buried my cock inside her, I forgot all about surviving. I fucked her because there was no way I could stop once I felt her tight pussy wrapped around me.
With the deed done, I’ve figured out Prodi’s plan. He wants me to love Everleigh so he can use her to break me mentally.
Which means there’s a good chance they’ll rape her.
In front of me.
My mind is overwhelmed with thoughts of what has happened and what’s to come.
I remember the panic in Everleigh’s eyes when I felt her pussy clamp around my cock. She was scared of orgasming.
The question escapes me before I can stop it. “Why were you scared of orgasming?”
She doesn’t answer me immediately, and when she does, I can hear the embarrassment in her voice. “I didn’t want them to see me like that. It’s bad enough that we were forced to have sex.”
Knowing there’s no place for unspoken truths between these four walls, I admit, “I feel like shit for coming.”
Everleigh’s arms tighten around me. “It wouldn’t have been believable if you didn’t orgasm.”
“Still.” My tongue swipes over my lips, where I can still feel the kisses we shared. “I didn’t orgasm for show.” I suck in a deep breath, then admit, “I enjoyed it.”
Everleigh is quiet for a moment before she says, “I’m not going to get angry with you.” Even though she can’t see shit, she still lifts her head. “You’re all I have right now, Alek. I hate them for putting us in this position, but not you.” Her voice hitches. “You’re as much a victim as I am.”
“The only thing I hate is that they watched,” I grumble.
Jesus, you’d fucking swear I’m in a confession booth with the way I’m spilling my guts to this girl.
“It wasn’t torture for me, Everleigh.” I move my hand to her arm and brush my fingers up and down her slender bicep. “The attraction is there.”
She keeps still and doesn’t say a word for what feels like half an hour. I hear her take a deep breath before she whispers, “Our emotions are all over the place. The traumatic experience is making us feel things we wouldn’t normally feel. Everything is heightened.”
“True.” I nod my head but add, “It doesn’t mean the emotions aren’t real.”
She leans against me again. “At least we have each other. I’m not sure I would’ve survived if I were alone.”
I usually couldn’t give two shits what people think of me, but I’m desperate to know what Everleigh’s thinking.
Letting out a sigh, I mutter, “You have every right to hate me.”
She shakes her head.
“It’s my fault you’re in this hell,” I remind her.
“It is what it is, Alek. I also screwed up when I swapped clothes with Svetlana.” She hesitates momentarily, then asks, “What would you have done with me if we weren’t ambushed?”
Christ.
Vincent would’ve made the choice to either drop her off somewhere or take her home. If we took her home, there’s no telling what Papa would’ve done.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “It would’ve been up to Vincent.”
“Do you think your brother is okay?” she asks. “We haven’t seen him since the first day.”
Again I answer, “I don’t know. He’s the oldest, so he’s taking the brunt of the torture.”
“I hope he’s alive,” she whispers.
“Me too.”
We grow silent again, and I stare into the darkness.
There’s a constant war inside me to demand to see my brother, but I know it will only make them torture us. Not asking for Vincent is the best thing I can do under the circumstances.
Papa used to make us all watch as he beat one of us. We weren’t allowed to show any emotion, or he’d beat us too. He said he was training us in case we got taken. It’s so we wouldn’t snitch on the bratva.
He also said it was to teach us not to show emotion because our captors would use it against us.
Still, all I want to do is demand to see my brother.
But years of conditioning keep me from banging on the door.
As tough as I am, I’m not indestructible. I know it’s only a matter of time before Prodi will either kill us or worse.
You can’t let him break you mentally.
Whatever happens, you have to fucking survive it.
“Prodi wants me to fall in love with you,” I inform Everleigh. “He’s going to use you to break me.”
She pulls back again, and a second later, I feel her hands fumbling their way up my shoulders and neck to rest on either side of my jaw.
There’s desperation in her voice as she says, “You can’t let him break you. I won’t survive without you.”
Needing to warn her, I say, “The longer we’re stuck in this room, deprived of everything but each other, the quicker we’re going to form a bond.”