Page 55 of Stone

“You think I give a shit?” His gravelly, stern voice sends a shiver down my spine, and he scrubs a hand over his head. “Howlong? Fine, but Vector is mine.” He ends the call and throws the phone onto the small table with a heavy sigh. Tension rolls from him, and I’d give anything to make him feel better and bring us back together.

Vector being mentioned causes a cry to lodge in my throat and pulls his attention toward me.

His bright-blue eyes travel over my naked body before resting on my face. “Come here.” My feet remain unmoving as I blink back at him. He dwarfs the chair he sits in, wearing only boxer shorts to cover his manhood, but I swear I can see the head of it peeking out above his boxers, and I lick my lips in appreciation.

“Sienna! Come.” He points to the floor between his legs, and I feel the need to reassure him, to submit every part of my body to him. He holds my heart in his hands, but I need to prove it. He thinks I betrayed him, manipulated him, and I want to prove to him I’m his. I’ve only ever been his, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

I lower myself to the prickly carpet, the dirt sticking to my knees and hands as I do.

“Fuck,” he grunts, and shifts on the chair, then he strokes over his cock as if unable to help himself. “That’s it. Crawl for me, little cum whore.” His words are degrading, and in his mind, they’re true. He thinks I’ve been sleeping with my husband when, in reality, I never had to. Jeremy didn’t want me as much as I didn’t want him. It’s why he was so mad at me for making a move on him at the restaurant. We have an agreement between the three of us. Me, him, and his girlfriend; mistress, if you will. We only ever hold hands in public, and behind closed doors, I go to my bedroom and he goes to hers.

I listened to them making love at night, wishing that was me and Stone and, worse, knowing it never would be.

The room is small, and there’s barely enough space to move, but I’m able to find a path to crawl toward him, only stopping when I’m at his feet.

Hate swirls in my stomach, and I don’t know how to dispel it, so I try to please him further, unsure of what I’m doing. Having never orchestrated this before, I feel exposed but determined, nonetheless.

His cock jumps beneath the fabric as I nuzzle into his crotch. The tip of his cock is leaking at his waistband, so I sweep my tongue over it. I open my lips wider to accommodate him, but his thick fingers tangle in my hair and tug my head back, forcing my neck to elongate. “No,” he spits out.

Tears fill my eyes, and I squeeze them closed before opening them to find his lust-filled eyes boring into mine. He says no, but his body tells me otherwise.

He wants me. I can see it in the way his muscles are wrung tight, in the way his jaw tics and his fingers twitch in my hair.

He wants me as much as I want him.

“Please, Stone. I want to please you. I’m yours to use. Only yours.”

His eyes flash with a possessive gleam, and he growls as I trail my fingers up his scarred legs and over his covered thighs.

“Only yours,” I whisper, and a sob catches on my tongue. I will the truth to bleed from my eyes, hoping he can feel and see it.

“You want cock, that it?”

I shake my head. “Just yours.”

A patronizing laugh glorified with malice rips from his chest as he throws his head back, and when his focus lands back on me, torment curls in the depths of my stomach. Insecurity, hurt, and self-loathing swim in his bright-blue eyes, and I blink away the tears that cloud my vision. He’s broken but solid, he’s hurt yet prideful. His stone walls crumble as I tremble against him.He’s showing this side of him, the side he keeps hidden, the side filled with secrets that allow me to keep my own lies covered.

“You want this, Sienna?” He grabs the solid length of his cock, and I nod as uncertainty seeps through my skin.

“Ye-yes. Please, I want all of it.” I straighten my shoulders. “I want all of you.”

“Then go right ahead and take it, Princess.” I lean forward to grasp the waistband of his boxers, but he grips my wrist roughly in his thick hand. “Be warned, I’m going to choke you on your tears.”

His words are an odd sentiment, no doubt laced in venom to scare me, but I refuse to cower. I need him to see I want every part of him. My hands shake as I slowly roll the fabric down his hips, then over his thick thighs. My movements stutter for a moment when I bear witness to the horror he’s endured.

Burns mar his skin, lumps of fleshy disfigurement spread over his groin, and I want to recoil at what I’ve unearthed, but not because of the sight, because of the depths of his torture. When I have his boxers around his thighs, he pushes them to the ground and kicks them to the side while remaining impassive as my fingers take in the tarnished skin that wraps his solid cock. A strangled cry leaves my lips, and I hate myself for it, willing it back inside. While I lay in bed safe at night and desperate to keep him, he was receiving extreme torture.

My palms fan out on the tainted flesh, and tears flow freely down my face. When he gently caresses my head, I know he’s trying to bring me comfort when I should be the one comforting him.

They tried to destroy him; they tried to break him down, to steal his very manhood, to crumble the man they made of stone, but they failed. He wears the consequences of their evil, daily, and as my hand attempts to circle the base of his cock, I vow withevery breath I take, they will never hurt him again. They will never break my Stone.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Stone

Her tears flow down her pretty cheeks so beautifully she leaves me stunned in silence. As much as it pains me to allow her to see what they did, her touch brings me comfort.

The burns, cattle prods, and raping used to create some of the most degrading forms of torture were by far the worst for me, and now I’m laid bare in front of her. She can see the whole truth. Like I can see hers.

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