Page 63 of Vengeful Sins

“What do you mean, no one? Where did these come from? I didn’t pay for damaged goods.”

I wince at his statement. He thinks I’m damaged goods. I guess, in a way, he is right.

“Tell me what these are?” he demands.

“I did it to myself,” I admit with a shaky voice.

“To yourself?” Clark asks, like he can’t believe what’s coming out of my mouth. “You cut yourself?”

All I can muster up is a nod.

“Dammit. I just spent a fortune on you,” he says disappointingly. “I want a wife, not a freak.” With each word, he seems to become more agitated. An aura of anger vibrates from his body.

A shiver runs down my spine as I come to terms with the amount of danger I’m in. This guy is a monster, and I’m at his mercy.

“I don’t even know if I can fuck you, knowing your thighs are like that. It’s disgusting,” Clark spits, digging the knife in deeper. “I guess your mouth will do.”

His words don’t have time to sink in as he grabs me by my hair and pulls me from the bed. My limbs are weak, and I can barely hold myself up as he forces me on my knees next to the bed.

My scalp burns where he holds me tightly with his right hand while unbuckling his pants with his left. He unzips himself and tugs down his boxers, freeing his semi hard cock.

“Open your mouth and watch your teeth. If you even think about biting me, I’ll knock all your teeth out so you can never bite again,” he threatens.

I’m onlyin my panties, and my shirt is over my shoulders, but my body shivering is not from the cold. It’s fear that has my bones rattling, and my teeth shuddering together.

I try my best to relax my jaw and keep my mouth open as he forces himself between my lips. He thrusts forward with a groan, the tip of his hard cock bumping against my throat, making me gag.

“You better not puke on me. I’ll be pissed,” Clark warns while fucking my throat mercilessly.

His breathing quickens, while mine becomes erratic. Tears stream down my face, saliva drips down my chin, and all I can do is close my eyes and pretend this is not happening to me. I pretend I’m somewhere else, somewhere safe… with Tucker. Because he makes me feel safe. I imagine being in his arms right now, and we’re talking about something stupid, like how bad the cafeteria food is for such a fancy school.

A sharp slap on the side of my face forces me back to reality.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” Clark orders, and I blink my eyes open.

My willingness to obey doesn’t save me from another slap to the cheek, this time harder than before. I forcefully keep my eyes open and look at his face, distorted by pleasure.

“That’s right, look at me while I fuck your face,” he sneers. “I knew you weren’t some innocent girl. You probably like being my fuckdoll.”

His thrusts become faster and more violent. His hands in my hair tighten further, and I’m sure he is about to rip some of it out. My scalp burns, my jaw aches, and my throat feels bruised.

I look up at him through teary vision when he suddenly pulls out of my mouth and lets go of my hair. I slump backward against the side of the bed, coughing while trying to catch my breath.

“Bend over the bed, I want to fuck you and that way I don’t have to look at your thighs.”

I try to make my body move, to push myself up from the floor, but even when I put all my effort into it, I can’t move fast enough for him. He reaches down and grabs me by the throat, squeezing it until black dots dance around my vision.

My hands fly up to his wrists, my attempts to pull him away futile against his strength. Panic surges through me as I can’t suck in a needed breath.

Just when I’m about to pass out, a loud crashing sound keeps me on the edge of awakeness. The next moment, Clark’s hand disappears, and I slump forward on my hands and knees. I’m immediately thrown into a coughing fit while gasping for air.

“You’re dead!” A familiar voice full of fury and hatred booms through the room. I’m so out of it, I take a moment to place it. “I’ll kill you!” Tucker growls.

I look up and find Clark on the ground. Tucker is straddling his torso while raining fists against his head. I stare in shock andterror as Tucker punches Clark’s face over and over again, even though he is already out cold.

“Tucker,” I croak while frantically tugging my shirt down to cover up. “You are killing him!” I manage to say a little louder, but Tucker isn’t paying me any attention. He is in a haze of anger so overwhelming he can’t hear me.

A new kind of fear takes hold of me, the fear of losing Tucker. If he kills Clark over this, he is going to jail. No matter the circumstances, he is still committing a murder.

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