Page 37 of Trapped

“Who is Claudia?” I ask.

“Claudia was my dad’s fourth wife. After he died, she put a hit out on my mother and took my younger siblings as her golden ticket to our inheritance. My father left her nothing in his testament, but as long as she has custody of my siblings, she can use it to her advantage.”

My eyes widen at the revelation. I had forgotten about his siblings. Rosalinda and Maikel. I remember them from thewedding, but they were both so young. Maikel was Luca and Lucia’s age when we got married.

“A plan that only works if you’re…”

“Dead,” he says, finishing my revelation.

“Where are your siblings now?” My heart pangs at the thought of the torture they could be exposed to.

“I have an idea, but I am not a hundred percent sure. That’s why I came back here. To get as much information as I can obtain about their whereabouts. Rosalinda is turning eighteen soon, and I’m worried about the lengths Claudia will go to use her against me.”

I think about the young girl and all the struggles I had been forced into at that age. I couldn’t bear to see any woman broken down the way I had been. I couldn’t bear to see Silas risking his life to save his siblings. Even though I know, when it came to my brother, Adrian, I would throw myself in front of a moving bus.

“What if I help you?” I offer.

“Help me?”

“Yes. You said you think she was the one behind the plane explosion. So, you can use me as bait. Draw her in closer.”

He eyes me suspiciously.

“And what do you want in return? The devil doesn’t just offer to help,” he says.

“Just let me call my family and let them know I’m alright.”

“How do I know you’re not just trying to trick me?”

“Te lo juro,” I say and hold out my pinky. He stares at my pinky for a long time before he grabs it and pulls my hand into him.

“Blood oath or nothing,” he says.Well, that got dark quick.

“Okay, a blood oath,” I agree, unsure of what Silas has in mind.

With my hand still grasped in his, he pulls me with him to his dresser. He reaches down for his knife and draws a straight linedown his inner palm. I watch as the red oozes out of him and hold my breath when he brings the knife to my palm.

“I promise to protect you, Thalia, and I promise you can trust me.”

I watch as he repeats the same damning ritual. I don’t register the pain right away. Before it can surface, Silas presses his hand into mine.

“Tell me you promise to be honest with me. That I can trust you.”

“I promise.” The words fall from my mouth, and I look into his midnight eyes. He stares down at me, neither of us breaking the contact. Our bloody hands meet as red droplets fall to the floor. He releases his palm from mine, but something sinister takes place in his eyes as he stares down at my bleeding palm.

He lowers his mouth to my palm and presses his mouth against it. His tongue runs over the fresh cut, and he holds it there like a BandAid. He moans around my palm, and heat flows to my most delicate areas. Is this his thing? Blood?

There’s a powerful and feverish feeling in me. I can’t explain the nature or the reason I do what I do. I pull back and remove my shirt and bra. I grab his bleeding hand and place it on my bare breasts, smearing the blood all over me. His eyes go dark and his jaw clenches, but I’m far past desire. I want to please him.

I grab his dripping palm and lick the leaking droplets. I drag the blood with me, up the curve of his hand, and suck in his index finger. I suck on it and moan. Pressure builds in my center. Silas reaches out a hand and pushes me onto the bed. When his lips slam into mine, we devour each other. The metallic taste swirls between our tongues. I grind my throbbing pussy into him, and I can feel him hardening for me.

“You see what you do to me? You feel how hard my dick gets for you?” He shoves down my shorts and rips my panties off.He stares down at me like a madman before rubbing his bloody palm over my bare pussy. In one violent go, he lifts my legs and slams his large cock into me.

I cry out, but the pain is welcome. The hard way in which he slams into me has my back arching off the bed. I wrap my legs around his waist, wanting to be closer. Wanting to feel each painful thrust to mollify the wild hunger within me.

“You’re as deranged as me, bruja. You're my filthy whore.” He chokes me and continues to drive into me harder. My legs shake in the absence of air, but my pussy clenches tight to his dick. He’s ruined me for anyone else. If I thought orgasming was a tedious task before him, then this awakening to my inner masochist would damn me for eternity. I am, in fact, his filthy whore.

I’ll crawl, beg, and get on my knees every time for this. My clit feels like it’s going to explode under the weight of him. His grip tightens around my throat as he strangles me. On and on, he plows into me in his never-ending need for satisfaction. I think I might pass out. Not just from the strangulation, but the way my body heats in response. That euphoric feeling hits me, and he releases me. I don’t try to catch my breath as I let the orgasm wash through me. It’s an unbeatable high that I never want to come down from. I feel his seed coat my inside, filling me up, and I let myself drift into the unconscious realm of bliss.

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