Page 26 of Be My Sacrifice

“I got you, baby.” He moans right into my drenched core as he continues to lick and suck at my clit, before slipping two thick fingers inside of me and curling them. A scream leaves my lips, and I’m unable to stop it, as my hips thrust backward of their own volition, forcing his fingers deeper into my pussy as my legs shake, threatening to have me crashing down to the ground.

He continues to finger fuck me hard, adding another finger to the mix. The sensation of being so full and stretched makes my eyes want to roll to the back of my head. Every part of me is pulled tight like a rubber band waiting to be released, waiting to explode. “Oh God, oh God, fuck, God!”

“Naw, baby, not God, he doesn’t know how to make this pretty pussy weep, just your devil. This is my perfect, tight cunt. God can go fuck off, he can’t have you.”

His words are my undoing, and my body tightens painfully as every muscle locks up and my spine goes rigid. My legs shake, and the orgasm takes me over, ripping a hoarse scream from my lips and causing me to bite down hard on my bottom lip, until I can taste copper in my mouth. Yet still, Abe works his fingers in my pussy, until he’s ripped every last shred of euphoria from my shaking body.

He pulls his fingers from inside of me, and I can hear and feel how wet I am. My juices trail down the inside of my thighs, and my face heats with embarrassment. Abe leans forward, pressing his face to my thighs and licking up every drop with his warm tongue. “So fucking good. What a good girl you are, cumming like a whore for me.”

His words have aftershocks racing through me, and my body tenses again, but I’m spent and exhausted and sway on my trembling legs, knowing that at any moment, they are going to crumple and drop me to the ground. Abe must realize it too, because he wraps his arms around my thighs as he gets back to his feet, ensuring that I don’t hurt myself, before turning me around and giving me a blistering kiss that has my sweet and musky taste filling my mouth.

“Come on, baby, we need a fucking nap after that.” He picks me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest, and carries me to the bed, making sure that I don’t accidentally land on my side before joining me, and gently pulling the covers over the both of us. His arm pulls me against his broad, tattooed chest, cradling me closer to his warm, sweaty body, and he tangles our legs together, holding me as if he’s afraid I might disappear on him.

“I promise, Atasi, we will get them back,” he mumbles into my hair.

My eyes close with his words, and for the first time in weeks, darkness takes me, but no monster greets me.

Chapter seventeen

The Rebel

Sarah

“Youwantedtoseeme, Sarah?” Her voice startles me out of my roaming thoughts.Pay fucking attention, Sarah. She just snuck up on you. She could have been anyone.I chastise myself for my stupidity and false sense of safety. I know better than to let my guard down, even here in this rebel safe house. There is danger everywhere, and just because I’m amongst those who, too, want to see the Brotherhood brought down and their reign of terror ended, doesn’t mean I’m safe. The reality is that I’m never safe; none of us are.

I turn slowly around, my eyes appraising her from the soles of her black boot-clad feet to the top of her dark head. All that gorgeous thick hair loose, and cascading in waves down her back, reminds me of her mother at her age. She really has grown into such a beauty. A smirk crosses my lips at her attire, a mixture of my son’s, and what we have provided for her.

Her black tattoos peek out along the top of her shoulder and down her arms, without the slightest worry about the consequences of having them. What a naughty and brave girl she is, allowing her lover to ink those onto her skin when, at any moment, the Brotherhood may have found them.

Yes, Dinah Camrose has grown from a spirited and sweet young girl, who used to sit on my knees sharing sweets with me and smiling with her two front teeth missing, to a formidable, powerful woman. Her mother, bless her poor soul, would be proud of the woman she has become. The woman who is destined to liberate all of her other sisters from the horrors of living in an oppressed world governed by the Brotherhood. She just doesn’t know it yet; how important she is to the cause.

“Yes, how are you feeling, child?” I question as I observe the dark shadows marring the space under her eyes, and the tight lines around her mouth. I wonder if she would be honest and tell me if she was in pain? Probably not, because she knows she may be forced back into her bed for further rest, and as I have discovered, Dinah doesn’t like to be forced into anything.

I’ve watched her the last two days, fighting against the demands of the doctors and nurses who cared for her while she lay in a coma. More amusingly, I’ve watched her lead my stubborn and difficult son around by his nose like a love-sick puppy. Did I ever believe that there would be a woman or man who could tame that strong-willed boy?No, I never imagined that he would soften for anyone; not even Ezekiel Rothesay or Gabriel Camrose managed that. I’m not ignorant to the fact that my son is a sociopath with psychotic tendencies, or that he’s bisexual.

Have I feared him and his destructive ways in the past?Yes.I feared that he would turn into a monster like his father under the tutelage of the Order, and yet, although he is unhinged and destructive, he has resisted their poison. Can I refer to him as a good man?No, I am not foolish enough to put blinders on to his true nature. There is evil in him, but somehow, that wisp of a girl has managed to tame it, or at least for the moment, restrain it.

“Fine. Antsy. Fearful for what is happening to Sammy, my brother’s son… and Zeke.”Ah, there it is. Despite what Ezekiel has done to her, almost ending her life in order to save that of my son, she still worries about him, even still cares for him, I would dare say.Good, that will make things easier.

Will I be able to use that for my benefit? A brief moment of guilt tries to rise within me, but I slam the door on it. I have been a prisoner for too long. An unwilling victim of the Order, like so many other women, used and abused until there was almost nothing left of me. The trusting and obedient girl I once was is long gone now, and has been replaced by a woman filled with vicious and unrelenting rage. Rage that will not be soothed until the Order is burnt to the ground.

What is that saying from the old world? It was in a book Dinah’s mother, Maria, had hidden by some man named William Congreve.“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.”How adept that description is for the woman in front of me and for the image I see in the mirror.

This girl has a power she doesn’t yet understand, one that can help free us. She was once an innocent that the Order corrupted and turned into a predator, one that now will hunt them as prey. Her reputation as theUnholy Ghostwill precede her, putting the fear of all that is holy into men who are riddled with sins.

Do I feel remorse that I will do whatever I need to in order to get what I want?Yes,I loved this child once. She was the daughter that I never had the chance to have, thanks to my cunt of a husband.

Once I gave birth to Abraham, his male heir, I had completed my sacred duty, and Peter had me sterilized against my will, so that he could continue to use me and share me with his friends, without worrying about me becoming impregnated with a bastard he would be forced to raise. I have spent years being passed from one disgusting man to another, all while the man who was supposed to love me gained power, breaking faith with me every chance he could.

“Your usefulness is between your whore legs, Sarah. That is all you are good for, being a man’s cumdump. You will continue to spread those legs for me and any man I deem worthy. You will do it without complaint, or I will murder Abraham and start again with a new, younger, and prettier wife.” His hand lashes out, backhanding me hard against the side of my face and forcing me to stumble to my knees.

“That’s it, whore, on your knees where you belong. Where you will be of the most use to me.” His tight fingers clamp onto my hair and yank until my neck is bowed, and tears stream down my face with the pain of the strands being ripped out.

“Please, Peter, don’t hurt me. I… I love you! I will obey, don’t… don’t hurt Abraham,” I gasp with pain, as my heart shatters inside my chest to see how much the man I thought loved me really doesn’t. I am nothing to him, never have been. I am just a tool to be used and then discarded. He never truly cared about me; it was all lies.

He drags me forward by my hair, the humiliation of making me crawl like a beast, one of the lesser evils I will face tonight. “Come on, boys, she’s ready for all her holes to be filled up, and don’t take it easy on her. She enjoys being a whore for the Brotherhood.”

Peter Mercier will die a painful death, and the last image he will see before the light is snuffed out will be my face as I take his life. So that when he meets the devil, he will know that it was me who finally gave him what he deserved. I will be avenged.

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