Page 49 of Striker

The next slap lands viciously, sending a bolt of pure desire through me. My clit stings from the impact and when he does it again, I cry out.

He does it again, working up to a brutal pace. The sting mixes with pleasure, building until I hear myself making low keening sounds, my hips moving to meet his hand. Something dark and primitive claws at my insides, wanting to break free. The sting gets worse, the pleasure gets higher, flaring on my clit with each punishing spank. And this is what it feels like. A punishment for wanting their touch. Another punishment from Reaper for his dark need to touch me.

Viper’s solid body moves away, and my hands are released. I fall forward on to my hands and knees in the dirt. Someone's hand slips over my lower back, pressing down so that I’m forced to dip my hips like a cat in heat. A tear slips out, and the belt tightens, my head snapping back.

“Do you want me to kiss you, Princess? Is that why you’re whimpering?”

Please. Please. Please, just kiss me. Like you did before. When Reaper was taking my pleasure in the blue tinted room. When you knew I needed softness.

My head’s yank back further. Striker’s hand clamps around my throat, his mouth enclosing over mine. I open for him, groaning into his mouth as he kisses me with long sloppy sweeps of his tongue. Kissing me savagely, as Breaker pullsmy leg, so I’m open wider. As Viper presses my lower back down, keeping me still. As Reaper continues to spank my pussy. They’re all doing this. Taking part in this. Willingly sending me over the edge of sanity.

The slaps get harder, faster, all our breaths heavier, until I’m crying, pleasure rippling through me, mixed with the edge of pain. Until that wild feeling breaks free.

When I come, it’s as cruel as the slaps on my clit. It cuts through me just as sharply, ripping a scream from deep in my throat. Striker’s throaty groan as I continue to whimper against his mouth sounds like he’s devouring my demise. Eating my will.

Savoring my ruin.

Because that’s what this feels like. Like they are destroying one small piece of me at a time, until I’m nothing but theirs to use, to have.

To control.

Then it’s just emptiness. All the hands leave my body and I melt to the ground, forehead pressed into the dry earth. One of them slips the belt from my eyes, but I keep them closed, not wanting to see them.

“Come here, Princess,” Striker says. “Let’s get you inside.”

I feel warm hands slipping under my arm and my legs and I’m lifted. I press my cheek to his shirt, hiding my face. But I can’t hide from the darkness inside my head.

Chapter 20

Delilah

The warm air inmy room blasts over my icy skin as Striker carries me through the door and walks us toward the bathroom. He doesn’t speak as he flicks on the light and sets me down in front of the bathroom sink. Instead, he fills the tub, not looking my way. The adrenaline of the night leaves my body in little tremors that come and go, so I grip the counter to keep my mind from wandering back to the woods.

“The radiator’s fixed?” I ask as he bends over to test the water.

I stare at his mask, the slash over the eye, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t respond as he walks to me and grips the sleeve of my sweater. He tugs it and I shrug it off. Then he lifts the hem of my ruined nightgown. My eyes dart up to his, but my pulse slows when I don’t see that dark edge in them like I’ve seen before. He gathers the gown around my waist and pulls up. Without a word, I lift my arms so he can slide it over my head. It slips to the floor and my hard nipples brush the front of his shirt.

“When did you fix it?” I ask, my voice a whisper. A light trembling starts in my shoulders, moving down to my legs.

“Reaper did this afternoon.”

My eyes flicker away and land on the open door, but I don’t see him. I know he’s out there, just outside the doorway. Just out of sight. Just out of reach. He must have done it earlier after they fed me and it hadn’t had enough time to warm up my room.

I wonder if I would have thought it was Cora screaming if I woke up warm, knowing he’d turned it on for me.

Gripping my bare waist, Striker turns me to face the mirror. His warm brown eyes drop to my hard nipples in the mirror as he backs away. The way his gaze slides over my naked body sends a wave of warmth between my thighs and I think my sanity was left in those dark woods. When his eyes land on my ass, he glances up briefly at me and then slides my hair off my back, over my shoulder. That same hand grips the back of my neck tightly, making me gasp and my pussy clench. Then he releases me, and lightly trails a finger from the back of my neck down my spine to my tailbone, sending a violent tremor through me.

“Your ass is beautiful this color,” he whispers. “The perfect shade of sin.”

My hands grip the edge of the vanity, heart picking up pace.

“Do you understand now what happens when you don’t listen?”

Faintly, I’m aware of my nod, telling both of us I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t leave the house. I’ll do as they ask.

“Bend forward and let me see you.”

My heart slams once, twice until it’s beating so hard it feels like my entire body is shaking with it.

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