Page 4 of SKIN

He cracked his neck from side to side, breaking his self-imposed trance before he slipped free from my lips and tugged me to my feet, using the belt and his grip on my throat to lift me. When I was finally standing on shaky legs, he shuffled me back until the bones of my spine were digging into the far wall, and then he shoved his fingers into my mouth. I hissed with the impact, allowing him better access as he continued his ruthless assault, his tongue lapping up and tasting the blood along the seam of my split lips through the woven fabric still covering his face.

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped when his chest rubbed against my peaked nipples. And I hated myself for not hating it. I did hate it. I just couldn’t stop my body’s natural reaction to the chilled air.

Once again, the sound gave him pause and I used the momentary distraction to lift my arm and jam the jagged piece of wood into his right eye, only to jolt when the makeshift weapon veered to the side and cracked in my grip.

It penetrated the mask. I saw it myself, as the stake seemed to suspend in the air and bounce with the movement of his head. It would be comical if my life didn’t hang in the balance. Like something out of a vampire movie gone wrong.

My hands shot up to cover my gasp, while he threw his head back and laughed as I attempted to pull the piece of wood free and jab at him again.

4

HIM

She fucking stabbed me. More like stabbed at me. But the sentiment was the same.

My lips curled beneath my face covering into my first real grin since entering this room—the rest had been forced—and my fingers reached out and closed around her delicate throat. Her eyes widened as she struggled to gasp for her next breath of air.

And there it was. That fight I needed in order to get off. The added adrenaline that rushed through my veins as she kicked, clawed, and attempted to shove at my chest.

I gripped the hem of the mask with my free hand and peeled it back before yanking it over my head. “Talk about bad luck. Fifty-fifty shot and you still chose wrong.” I waited for her to look at me. Really look at me. The terror coming off her in waves. “Should have aimed for the other goddamn eye, pet.”

My smirk widened the longer she stared into the prosthetic I’d popped in just for today, her focus hitched on the gaping socket where my eye had been all those years ago. Long before I lost it. She swallowed down the gasp, the bile, the disgust and I felt the slow up-and-down movement beneath my palm.

I lowered my lips to her ear and licked the lobe as she trembled under the weight of my fingertips. “I agreed to your terms, your little game. But my… kindness comes with a price. Each day I allow you to breathe, I will take something of yours. Something you can’t get back. I’ll take your dignity, your sweat, your blood, and your tears. I’ll take your self-respect and I’ll decimate them so that there’s nothing left of you. Nothing but a shell of someone you thought you were. Till you are a living fucking corpse, Emily. And then I’ll leave you to rot.”

My hand was already lifting the hem of the hospital gown I’d dressed her in shortly after her arrival, as I punctuated the statement with the upward thrust of my cock into her tight cunt.

She sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered. And fuck, if it didn’t send an extra chill down my spine. Straight to my balls. Which drew up with the impending orgasm. But I refused to give into my body’s natural instinct to end this so soon.

No, each forward drive of my hips. Each tear that fell from her eyes and each small break in her psyche was a slow, sweet indulgence. I pounded her tiny frame against the cold concrete, over and over again, and felt the way her body caved to me. How her legs trembled, her cunt salivated, her muscles tensed and sucked me deeper. It wanted me no matter how much her cognitive functioning refused to surrender to her desire to submit to me.

I wouldn’t allow her to come. Not now. Maybe not ever. I would leave her on that edge, teetering between hating me and needing me. Between begging me for relief and refusing to accept she wanted it. I’d leave that pretty cunt between her legs drenched and fluttering. To the point she would be tempted to touch herself even as I watched. And then I’d tie her arms above her head, her thighs spread wide on the cool sheets, and leave her to squirm like the greedy little bitch she was.

It was that thought, that image, that finally had my cum coating the walls of her womb and claiming her as mine. We both knew it. There was no coming back from this.

I kicked her legs apart, watching as the white semi-translucent substance dropped from between her thighs. Trailed down to her ankles and landed with an audible plop on the uneven flooring. I could feel her eyes on me the entire time, boring into my flesh as if her hatred could somehow penetrate me as easily as I’d penetrated her.

I glanced up from the soiled ground to meet her gaze, and she hocked back the pooling saliva in her mouth and discharged it at my face.It clung to my cheek, the tacky liquid still warm to the touch as I swiped it with my thumb and sucked the digit clean.

If hatred had a tangible form, it would be the flames I saw staring back at me in the reflection of Emily’s dilated pupils. And all I wanted to do was fuck her all over again.

5

HER

Iwrapped my arms around myself as I watched him open the metal door and slam it shut again before I screamed my frustrations to the empty room. The high-pitched sound seemed to echo off the barren walls and scream back at me. There was no satisfaction in it, but I was able to breathe a little easier as I tugged at the chain on my ankle still tethering me to the hospital bed. Which I just now realized was bolted to the floor.

Fuck…

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t give up. Not yet. I’d barely seen what this man was capable of and I was certain far worse was to come. Especially now that he’d revealed himself to me—the fact he was a stranger didn’t mean I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup. And he was definitely a stranger. I’d remember having met someone whose face was so, um, fucked up… and whose eye was, well, missing.

Nearly half of his profile was mutilated, as if the skin had been peeled away and reattached at some point. Which was probably why he grew out his facial hair. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have some attractive attributes. His jawline defined and his singular eye a piercing blue. Hell, if he weren’t so cruel, I might even say that he was hot.

If scars were your thing. I wasn’t certain if they were mine.

I also wasn’t certain if the fact that he was a stranger should be comforting or not. It sure as hell didn’t help me determine what it was that he wanted from me.

I ground my teeth, hoping the sensation would somehow ground me too. Help me focus on the bigger picture and the deal we’d arranged. One I was second-guessing the longer I sat in my solitude—though I’d been so certain it was the right move to make just a few hours ago…

---