Page 192 of I Will Mend You

Pressure builds in my core, fueled by the strangers’ imminent deaths. I picture them crawling onto the mattress, wanting their turn and getting sliced open with my cleaver.

As Xero’s rough fingers stroke my clit, the men venture closer. I wonder how much they paid to watch and ask myself if it was worth their lives. They’re waiting for the grand finale, where Xero kills me in the throes of my climax.

Just as I’m about to come, he pulls us both backward so I’m sitting upright on my knees with him pounding into me from beneath.

I turn to the silver-haired auction winner and lick my lips. As he grins, I imagine him rushing forward, his erection within the range of my blade.

Xero’s fingers find my throat again and he squeezes hard. My eyes widen, and I clutch at his fingers, trying to pull them off.

The men edge closer, their faces monstrous.

Darkness clouds my vision again. I open my mouth in a silent scream. Xero quickens his thrusts, as though excited by my impending death.

An orgasm tears through my core, and my muscles clench and spasm around Xero’s shaft. Eyes rolling to the back of my head, my body falls limp.

The room erupts into raucous applause, but I stay still, wanting them to believe I’m dead. Xero’s strokes become erratic, fucking me so hard that my body jerks across the mattress.

With a final snap of his, his cock throbs once, twice, three times, before erupting in an explosion of warm cum. My ears ring with his roar. He continues pounding into me through his climax, stretching out my orgasm.

As his movements slow, he strokes my curls, still breathing hard. I peek through my lashes, watching the men approach.

Xero pulls out of me, plucks the cleaver from my fingers, and turns on the crowd. The room echoes with shouts and screams and the sounds of slicing flesh. I continue playing dead throughout his wild rampage as the men scramble to escape. All the doors, including the double ones that were barricaded, are shut.

As he works his way through the men, I resist the urge to join in with my ice pick. The man we both want to kill is missing.

Just as I’m ready to take another peek, the carnage stops, and Xero drops to the floor with a thud.

Delta rises from behind the wet bar with a tranquilizer gun. “Apologies for that, gentlemen. The winner of the auction is now deceased. Would you like to bid again for a rare opportunity to fuck Dolly while her corpse is still warm?”

EIGHTY-NINE

AMETHYST

I lie on the mattress, holding my breath as Delta orders Locke to take me to another room. He tells his patrons to help themselves to drinks while he settles Xero into an appropriate cell.

The room erupts into nervous chatter, although it’s a lot thinner than before Xero’s rampage. That’s partly because half the men are either dead or maimed. Sweat and blood and death stain my nostrils, making me want to gag. The surviving men don’t seem to give a shit that their comrades got slaughtered—they’re all itching for a chance to fuck Dolly’s corpse.

I peek through my lashes, watching Delta dragging Xero out of the room, wishing I had the manpower and strength to cut them all into pieces. Since all I have is an ice pick, I’ll have to play dead and strike from the shadows.

When Locke’s fingers close around my ankles, I force myself not to flinch. He drags me off the mattress, and I land on the floor with a painful thud. I close my eyes, focusing on the sensation of being pulled across the room and through the door leading to a tiled hallway.

As we enter a bedroom, Locke lifts me off the floor and tosses me onto a mattress. I land on my back, the ice pick in my pocket bouncing on my thigh.

Locke retreats, leaving me alone in the lavish, dimly lit room. The moment the door clicks shut, I reach for my weapon and secure it in my palm.

All I need to do is wait for the auction winner.

When I’ve killed him using the element of surprise, I’ll wait for the next man to come and check up on him, then he’ll be the next to die.

Before I can even complete that plan, the door swings open, and I stiffen. Dolly steps in, her figure in silhouette. She switches on the light and strides to my bedside.

Her hot breaths make every fine hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I close my eyes, my heart pounding so hard and fast I’m sure she knows I’m faking.

“How typical of you to fall dead after less than twenty minutes. You were always weak.” She reaches down and yanks me up by the hair. “Always getting off lightly. I had to perform in those movies for years, fighting off hundreds of those bastards, yet you can’t even survive a single one.”

My heart sinks at the reminder of everything she suffered. When warm spittle lands on my cheek, I force myself not to flinch. I hate Dolly, even though she’s a victim as much as she’s a monster. But I wish there was a way I could make her understand the truth.

“I begged Delta to be the one to kill you, to slay the last of my demons, but he wanted to make money from your death. It made me fucking sick,” she hisses.

---