Page 213 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

“You’re going to regret that,” My uncle spats. Spitting blood on the floor.

Rurik stiffens for a second before turning around to face him. I tighten my grip on him as he takes a step closer to him.

“You lay another hand on her,” Rurik says in a menacing tone, “and I'll make sure that pain and fear are the only things you’ll feel as you look at me while you fade away from this world.”

*-*-*-*

For the second time today, I find myself back inside a tub full of soapy water with Rurik behind me, washing away the feeling of being inside my uncle’s house.

“The bruises I saw during the wedding. Your uncle?”

I nod.

“This wasn’t the first time he’s hit you. He’s done this before.”

I nod.

“Since you were a kid?”

I nod.

I hear him suck in a deep breath before water pouring down my back, careful not to touch the bruises already forming in my body. His arms wrap around my stomach as he pulls me against him, his chin resting on my shoulder.

“Why?” He asks. “Why did he do this?”

I shrug. “Because he’s an asshole who has this need to feel powerful?”

I sigh heavily, straightening up against his hold as I share everything I'm ready to tell him, like how my parents died when I was young and how I was sent to live with my uncle. I tell him how my uncle started friendly and fatherly, but when he found out I was getting all of my parents' money and he was getting none, he became super abusive.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Rurik threatens after I finish talking, his hold tightening around me. “Then I’ll bring him back to life so that I can kill him again.”

I laugh, turning my head to face him. Rurik raises a brow.

“You think I’m joking?” He asks. “I mean it, Briar.”

“I know,” I say, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him to me to taste him.

He kisses back immediately, groaning softly when I grind my ass against his dick.

“Baby,” Rurik whispers against my mouth. “You’re hurt.”

“Then make me feel better,” I say as I turn to face and straddle him. I reach down to stroke his cock, grinning to find it already thick and hard and waiting for me.

He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, I want you to fuck me up, that’s the whole point.” I tease, leaning down to nibble on his Adam’s apple.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Briar,” He says, looking wretched and scared as he lightly traces the bruises on my face.

I can’t have that. I don't want gentleness right now.

I pull on his hair and growl, “Fuck me up with that thick cock of yours, Rurik. I want it hard, fast, and rough. Replace the bruises he gave me. You said I’m yours? Then prove it. Make me yours. Leave your markings on my skin.”

Something in Rurik snaps.

He pulls me out of the tub, ignoring how we're dripping wet. He lifts me until I wrap my legs around his waist and carries me to the bedroom, where he harshly throws me on the mattress. Before I can even breathe, his body weight is already on top of me, his lips and teeth on my skin, biting, licking, sucking every existing bruise, and adding new ones.

I am consumed with pain, pleasure, and passion as he thrusts into me with no lube. He doesn’t need it anyway. I’m already wet. He pins me down, fucking me so hard the headboard keeps hitting against the wall. I’m kind of afraid it'll damage the surface again.

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