Page 50 of Anorthic Anarchy

“Good, angel. I knew you could do it.” After slapping her ass again, I reach around and find her throbbing clit, then stroke her rapidly. “Come while you have both of us inside you.”

Watching my wife’s lips surround his cock makes me want to explode within her and tan her hide for touching someone else. Perhaps both at once. So I slap her ass harder and push in as she screams around Brandon. Her orgasm ripples through her body so violently she shakes like a leaf under my grasp.

Brandon’s hand grasps the crown of her hair as if he’s going to finish in her throat, but I grip her neck and pull her up on my lap as he spews his spunk all over the ground. Some sprays our legs.

I use my wife’s little body and grip her shoulder with my teeth as I release with a groan. My arms hold her steady as she turns to jelly in my embrace.

Brandon makes a small hop to pull up his pants and zips them. Before I slide out from my wife, I lean forward and grasp his handgun from his waist holster, then shoot him in the forehead.

Astrid screams and scrambles to get away from me, but my forearm holds her steady. “Oh fuck, keep trying to run, angel. Yes…” Her terror makes me immediately hard again. I think I could come just from her urgent need to flee.

The body slumps into her legs, which forces her even more onto my aching need. Grasping her hips, I work myself rapidly in and out until I come a second time while her nails dig into my hands. My ears hum from the gunshot and her wails of fright.

As I throb inside her, she twists out of my grasp and hurries down the stairs. Too spent to chase after her, I let her go. Sev walks in from the door she left open and immediately scans me as I’m pulling up my pants. Then the dead.

His shaggy eyebrow raises with a question, and I shrug in reply. “He touched what’s mine.”

Chapter 20

Astrid

Idon’t know why I’m crying. Maybe I forgot the master is still a monster. And that won’t change.

As my feet scurry over the rugged stones in the basement, I find the old cell. The door stands open. Like it knew I’d return. I rush to the corner cabinet, throwing it open, and relief hits my chest. Ted is still there, waiting for me. Slumping to the harsh flooring, I clutch my knees and rock. Tears heat my eyes, then my cheeks as they spill onto my face.

I miss the girl I was before I got here.

The one who didn’t have to understand about child trafficking and mafias and the government. Slaves andmastersdidn’t exist, except the ones ruling my mind.

So which is better? To have my eyes open to what is happening with Herodius and Clavius? Or let ignorance woo me into a state of bliss?

Fury rises from deep within me until a primal scream unleashes from my lungs. Wails waft off the walls in resounding echoes. I don’t feel any better. And now my throat feels raw.

Choice was never something I had in any of this. Will I ever get one?

The blanket scratches my bare legs when I slip underneath it, pulling it above my head. If I try really hard, I could cease to exist. Though no matter how much I concentrate, the thoughts still invade my mind.

Something about that bullet hole in Brandon’s head sent me running here. Sulfur and iron. Blood and rot. Images of the white halls and dead bodies in a pile. “Stay down. Be quiet.” I still hear Wyatt’s voice.

Vincente isn’t who I thought he was. A rapist. A murderer. A sadistic devil. Yes. But underneath is a vulnerability,loyalty,and a caring nature I never expected.

So perhaps I do understand why I cry. It’s because I missher. Astrid before Vincente.

But I can never go back.

And the horrific realization is…I’m not sure I want to.

It’s probably going to take a lot of those counselors the state tried to make me talk to, to understand it, but this strange asylum feels like home. Not the cell. No.

In Vincente’s arms.

Somehow, he makes me feel the safest I ever have. His genuine nature and utter honesty are fresh experiences for me. Despite his evil tendencies, he seems to have athingfor me. Like he wants to take care of me. And I haven’t seen that with anybody else.

Is it the fact I could bear his child and save us both? I’m not sure. If it were just that, it would feel more disconcerting. Like I’m still just a body part he needs.

But if it’s more…

While debating the reasons behind the madman’s motivations, I fall into a deep sleep.

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