Page 50 of Promise to Break

"You will be mine today."

I ignore his statement and return to our philosophical discussion. "You're saying we're self-sabotaging morons?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Look at us. I humiliated you repeatedly. I wanted you broken. You didn't let me break you, so I changed tactics. Now, I want you under me. I want to be inside you. I want to fuck your cunt until you scream."

He squeezes my breast and adds, "You spoke about your beauty as a factor, and it is. I am a man, after all. But your reaction to all my intimidation bored me. It wasn't interesting anymore. You didn't react to my attempts, so my interest in breaking you started to wear off. Then you challenged me, and all I wanted was to replace that fucking banana. Simple as that."

"I was trying to bore you again."

"You did, but after that, no matter what you did, I was determined that you would be mine."

There is nothing simple about Killian. Any other person would have run as far as they could to escape his threats because that's what he's doing. He's threatening me, forcing me to fully acknowledge what a monster he is. Unfortunately for me, I'm not any other person.

I lift my hand and start to play with my other breast. My touch isn't as satisfying, not as strong, and it isn't enough. I need more. As if knowing what I need, he toys with me just like before, and this time, I can't hide my pleasure. I don't think he wants me to. I moan, gasp, yelp, and buck into him, dry-humping his cock with my ass.

"The Fierro clan is poetic," I taunt. "So what you're basically telling me is that if I would have kept my mouth shut, I wouldn't be standing here?" Only God knows how I can speak in such a moment.

"All destructive people are good with words, Little Girl. We understand the world as it is. Its ugly glory is visible to us, and we embrace it. We bathe in it while adding to the suffering. We don't seek change because we know that destruction is what every single person is looking for. Therefore, we can explain it with words. But getting back to your question, we'll never know the answer to that, will we?"

His well-thought-out words are alarming. His intelligence is a factor, as much as his striking beauty.

"One night," I finally relent. He's right, after all. It was destined that he would be the one to destroy me. It was going to happen one way or the other. I can fight all I want, but I know that at this moment, I don't want to run. I want to stay.

To give him what should never be his. My virginity.

"Get rid of your clothes," he commands.

The dress that was tight on my body before is stuck to me now. I struggle at first, invoking a chuckle from my captor's lips. "You want to fuck me, so help, Cabron," I demand, and he does, the act not graceful in the slightest, reminding me it's real. So very real.

At last, the dress gives in to Killian's persistence. He pulls it over my head just to let it fall on the floor with a heavy thud due to the weight of all that water.

My breasts are bare under the dress as all Raven allowed me to wear underneath the seamless fabric is a thong. That's the last time I let Raven dress me.

"Your skin is a work of art," he murmurs, almost to himself. Caressing my back, he steps close again, towering over me from behind, just as he did before.

I feel his roaming gaze as he takes his time, skimming my skin in a slow caress meant to torture. He strokes the valley between my breasts, stopping at the necklace I like to hide beneath my clothes.

"Never knew you were a romantic," he says, his fingers inspecting the heart pendant. Even from behind, I'm sure he can see the little heart stone that was left as a reminder. "Is this from a boy?"

"It is, but it wasn't meant for me." I look up just in time to see his eyebrow raise, the only indication that he's intrigued by my statement. I probably shouldn't tell him these things about myself, but I want to, and that realization scares me more than I'd ever admit, even to myself. "It was my mother's. My dad gave it to her when they got engaged, and when she knew she was going to die, she gifted it to me. I never understood why he didn't take it back."

"Why would he?" Killian isn't touching me sexually now. His hands are just there, reassuring me.

"My father hated me. Not that I can blame him. I took away the love of his life, the mother of his first daughter. My life took hers, and he never let me forget that. I ruin everything I touch. You should be the one who runs before I ruin you as well."

His hands come back to my neck, not to choke me this time, just to touch the necklace. "Little Girl, you can't ruin what was never whole, and your father was an asshole. Her death is not your fault. Shit like that happens all the time. Serena knows this as well. She must have told you more than once that you weren't to blame."

She didn't, and I can't fault her for how she feels. Still, Serena never let me feel like I was in the wrong. She protected me, took care of me, and released me from the system. And yet, before me, her life was perfect until I colored it with shades of gray. So no, she's never told me I wasn't to blame.

"Well, even if she didn't, I will. You didn't kill your mom." His hand leaves the pendant to go around my neck again. It's like the spot fascinates him. He squeezes hard, and for just a moment, I can't breathe. "To kill someone is to play the game of the gods," he continues. "It's messy, violent, and full of intention. You're too good to commit murder. Little girls like you can be bratty but not evil. No matter how wild. You think a little poop potion, or ruining a shirt and a car, makes you bad? You could have done much more, but you didn't." The fingers of his free hand caress my navel, then slide under the band of my thong.

"Actions speak more than words," I argue. "I'm capable of doing much worse. I have done much worse." I try to keep my voice steady, but I can't, and a little cry leaves me. His hand is there, on the little bundle of nerves.

"In order to survive?" A singular press on my tender spot causes me to cry out. "Your actions are nothing I can't handle," he adds, as he slides one finger up and down.

Killian presses his cheek to mine and whispers, "Now, let me take your blame away. Throw your emotions into me. Let me drown in them." Because he can't feel them? Was I right about Killian? Is he anti-social? "Let me show you why not all sins are bad," he says as he pinches me hard down there, making me scream.

"I will feast on you, my little girl, my wild one." In one swift motion, he turns me around so I'm facing him, and fuck, what a sight he is. Killian Fierro is a god on any given day, but just now, he looks like sin incarnate. He's a vision in the desert, the promise of water you'll do anything to get, even if you know it will probably lead to your demise.

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