Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I might have been a virgin, but I watch porn, and he was on a whole different level than that. I’m perversely into the hardcore stuff, but even the intensity in those doesn’t compare to whatever the hell happened tonight or what he’s capable of.
My inability to move is no joke. I’m panting, gasping, and still weeping softly as my core pulses.
And the most perverted part is that I would do it all over again. Hell, I wouldn’t even mind if he hadn’t stopped.
That would kill me, though. For real. Not like in some fantasy.
The rustle of clothes sounds from the side and I tilt my head slightly in its direction. He pulls his sweatshirt up and from his silhouette in the dark, I can tell there’s no underwear. Commando. He came prepared to ruin me beyond repair.
Why do I love that so much?
He lowers his hood until it’s covering his head and shadows his eyes, and then he turns.
To leave.
To erase everything that happened.
I barely survived last time, but I can’t do this anymore. I…don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I just take his abuse and pretend nothing happened afterward.
My mouth opens, but only a wince comes out as I attempt to sit up. It takes me several deep breaths until I can speak. “Wait…”
He stops, his back shadowed by the silver of the half moon, but he doesn’t turn around.
“I…” The words get lost. What do I want? To have a conversation? To hear him say anything aside from how I’m a good, filthy slut and toy?
God. I’m starting to sound victimized and I hate that feeling.
I don’t want to be victimized.
“Can we…talk?” I finally mutter.
“One word,” he says with a calm he never uses when he whispers dirty words in my ear. “You only have the right to that.”
“But…”
“Fight harder next time, and I might let you enjoy it.”
And with that, he disappears between the trees.
I gulp, the bitter aftertaste stuck at the back of my throat. I want to follow after him, but my inability to move keeps me pinned in place.
For a few minutes, I just lie there. My gaze gets lost in the darkness of the forest and the dusty blanket of stars above. A gust of wind blows through my damp hair and forms goosebumps on my bare skin.
I slowly crawl to a sitting position, whimpering softly due to the soreness between my legs, on my nipples, my ass, my throat, my jaw. Everywhere.
It takes me effort I don’t have to stand up and put myself together. Well, as much as possible, considering my torn short and panties.
I bend down to fetch my phone that I hid by the side of the rock when I got here. I foolishly arrived at six forty-five because I was overly excited.
And that sense of thrill had bled into my everyday life.
Today, I noticed the people when I never have before. I noticed the way they walked and talked, the way they laughed and scowled. I even stopped to admire the beauty of Blackwood’s forest and its tall trees.
And it’s due to feeling alive after years of just…existing.
It’s the exhilaration after desperation.
I used to only breathe air before; now, I breathe life. The same life that I went to countless therapists to be able to get back but never managed to.
Turns out that consenting to a fucked-up fantasy might have been the answer all along.
And the thought that more is still in store for me fills me with morbid anticipation. But there’s also a bitter taste that hasn’t disappeared since he left me.
For the second time.
I pause with my phone in my hand when I find a few missed calls. One from Mom, one from Lucy, and one from Kai.
My heart skips a beat as I click on the Call button while I slowly make my way down the path to where I left my car.
I clear my throat a few times, afraid of how my voice sounds after all the screams and sobbing that transpired not too long ago.
The PI answers after a few rings. “Kai speaking.”
“It’s me, Naomi. You called me?”
“Yes.”
A gust of wind hits me in the bones as I cautiously ask, “Is there anything new?”
“There’s progress, yes.”
“Why do you sound so…serious?”
“I’m always serious.”
“I know that, but it’s more than usual. You’re scaring me.”
“There’s no other way to deliver the news, Ms. Chester, so here it goes. I found the owner of the car we managed to process from that picture, but he’s dead.”
I physically reel back, a savage pulse pounding in my throat. I always thought about finding my dad, but I never actually considered the idea that he might be dead.
Maybe because, all this time, with the way my mother made it her mission to hide any information concerning him, I thought he just lived elsewhere. That he wanted to find me as much as I want to find him, but Mom got in the way.