Page 136 of Mine to Ruin

“Is this helping?” he asks in a gravelly voice dripping torment.

“Yes.” The pain surrounding us ripples on my skin and penetrates me with every one of his thrusts.

His lips graze my shoulder, and this burst of gentleness kills me. He likes to torture me, increasing my misery. He uses the knowledge over my body against me, sliding in and out of me in that maddening pace where I feel him everywhere, combined with applying the right pressure and rubbing my clit. I bite my lower lip so hard not to moan, I might draw blood.

He puffs a dissatisfied air and bites into my neck, soothing with his tongue.

“Come,” he orders and I do, panting heavily. He stills and comes inside me, and then buckles himself up. I expect him to leave me there, but he dresses me back up.

“Join me when you look presentable.”

“Why? My fucked up look not presentable enough?” I counter right back.

He yanks the door open, and I splash cold water down my face. Five minutes later, I amble back to the table and catch a tall, slim woman slipping him a card and he slides it back to her.

“Eat.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s your favorite.” Why does he remember that? I search the room for the woman who gave him the note. She’s another blonde. What did he ever see in me then?

“She’s your type. Why didn’t you take the card?”

“Perhaps I will come back later,” he says with no trace of interest.

At this point we’re in a full blown war of wanting to inflict hurt.

This is all just too much. “Can we go, please?”

“Eat.” He points at my uneaten plate with a fork.

I stand up, and he grabs my hand. When I climb in the car, I lose control over my body. I shiver, and my teeth clench, and I have difficulty breathing.

I gasp for a breath of air that won’t come. The walls crash in on me from all sides.

“Ellia.”

My breathing speeds up, my vision blurs, and pants rock my body. He puts the car in park, taking my face in his hands. Full fear and worry stretches in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

I try to explain, but I hyperventilate with the panic gripping my senses.

“Breathe.”

I squeeze my eyes, but his voice pulls me back from the terror gripping my sanity. I am dying.

“Look at me. Breathe.”

I watch his mouth inhaling and exhaling. I copy it and he nods.

“Good, just like that. You’re doing great.” He gets back on the road and speeds up to the next hospital. He yells at everyone until a nurse appears with a wheelchair, and I grasp Kian’s hand.

“You can’t go with us.”

“Wanna bet, lady?”

“But sir…” she stammers and her eyes widen at the mad look taking over the grays in his eyes.

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