Page 68 of Lawless God

Yes.

My eyes dart around his face, noticing the way he’s trying to read my mind.

Scared he actually might, I talk to move things along. “I know your siblings are twins.”

Shoving his fingers deeper, I tremble, the overstimulation too great. He presses a hand on my lower belly. “You’d swell so beautifully.”

He moves his fingers, fucking me slowly. A torture of intensity and softness.

“Stop…”

“Give me a little more, little sunflower.”

A shuddered breath leaves me, wrapping around the words I’m trying to utter. “I c-can’t.”

“You can. Think how stuck you’ll be once I make you have my kids. Imagine our beautiful little family. The mother of my kids, married to the man who kidnapped her.”

“No,” I whimper, my eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure doubles from his fingers curling.

“Amuse me. Feed my imagination. Come on my fingers from thinking of your entire life by my side.”

What he doesn’t understand is that my imagination is twice as vivid as his. I can picture my fear of having him around them. How he would never ever let us go.

And for the third time today, I explode from his touch, hating myself, hating the situation, hating him.

Wiping his drenched fingers on my cheek, he stands up. “I had other plans in this office tonight, but I think you need some rest.”

Strength leaves me, the will to fight dissipating as he looks down at me.

This torment will never end. Exactly like he wanted.

15

KAYLA

Save Me Some Sunshine - Rafferty

“I don’t understand.”

My eyes skim the document he just put in front of me before going back to the title.

Prenuptial Agreement.

I would never admit it, but it’s an enormous amount of pressure to be sitting at his desk, in his seat. The same one that makes him look so big and impressive. With a pen held tight in my hand, and all my focus on stopping said hand from trembling, I feel like a kid at her dad’s desk.

A kid who doesn’t get the big, complicated adult words.

This is why math is so much better. It always means the same thing. Anyone can understand it.

Words are difficult, and Nate is using that against me.

“There’s nothing to understand,” Nate says for the fifth time. “However, we do have to be at the town hall by eleven a.m., so I’d appreciate your pretty signature on the paper, Kayla.” There’s no impatience in his tone, only in the words he chooses.

Looking down again, I turn the page around. Even with my eyes on the paper, his hip is in my field of vision. I can see his thigh pressing against the desk. He’s standing right next to the bloodstains on the floor where he fucked me yesterday.

The memory enhances the stinging pain on my throat, and sitting the way I am burns the mark on my ass.

This is fucking ridiculous. I’m not about to sign a prenup with the man who is holding me against my will and spreading blood on me when he fucks me.

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