Page 11 of Wicked Oath

His pace is almost punishing as he takes all his anger out on my pussy. He is growling and grunting as he brutally pounds into me. I whimper with each thrust, pain rippling through my belly. “It hurts,” I cry.

“Fuck, just a little more… God, I’m so close,” he groans. “You can take it, Little Flower. Let me fill this tight little cunt.”

I whine again, needing a reprieve from the discomfort. I push back against him with my legs, trying to get him not to go so deep. “Please,” I beg, my tone carrying clear desperation and pain. Talon growls and slams into me harder, making a scream rack from my throat. The more I fight back, the harder he fucks me as he chases down his orgasm. By the time he pushes into me as deep as my body will allow him and comes, I am in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

Talon pulls out of me and is out of breath. I expect some kind of comfort for what he just did, but I get nothing. He offers… nothing. He drops my legs to the bed and stands up. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment and returns to grab his boxers. “Clean up and come lie down,” he says coldly.

“Okay,” I whisper, choking on my tears. I force myself to get up and my entire body is shaking violently and sore, especially my low belly and my pussy. I quickly disappear into the bathroom so I can close and lock the door. Once alone, I slide down the door to sit on the floor as sobs take over.

I don’t know why I thought this would be any different than being with Logan. At least Talon doesn’t hit me; it’s just the emotional damage that I have to learn to handle. Why can’t I be as heartless as them? Life would be so much easier if I could be that cold.

Chapter Four

Talon

I am lying inbed, listening to Delaney sob on the other side of that goddamn door, and it hurts. I did that to her, and I can’t fix it. I stole her out of her home, albeit a shitty one. I brought her here so I can force her to marry me, but I fucked her into actual pain. Real tears. I know she is hurting physically and emotionally, but I can’t fix it. I can’t undo anything without appearing to be weak. After a while, she is quiet. I can only assume she is cleaning up right now. Instead of looking like I am just laying here waiting on her, I roll to my side to face away from where she will lie. A few seconds later, she quietly tiptoes out of the bathroom.

She shuts off her bedside lamp and is undoubtedly curled up in a little ball on the very edge of the bed to stay as far away fromme as she can. I can’t blame her. I’d try to stay away from me too. When her breathing evens out, I turn my light back on and gently roll to face her. To my surprise, she is near the middle and facing me. She must have rolled early in her sleep, and I just didn’t notice. I can’t imagine why she’d want to be this close to me. Not after what I did to her.

I gently brush the hair from her face and anger washes over me when I see the bruise. She took her makeup off, and now there is a visible black eye. I want so badly to be a good husband to her, but I don’t know how to do that without destroying myself. I want her to know that she is safe and Logan will never hurt her again. All I know to do is to get her the physical things she needs and be faithful. I can’t offer love, but I can learn to support her and to promote her growing stronger. I want her to be strong enough that she has the power to leave me but chooses to stay. For once in my life, I just want to be wanted.

I slowly open myeyes and find that my head is on Delaney’s chest and my arms are wrapped around her body. She has one arm under me to wrap around so her hand is resting on my upper back while her other hand is resting on my shoulder. I have one leg hooked over the top of hers. Her breathing is even, so I take a second to listen to the thumping of her heart. It’s soothing in a way that I don’t understand, and that scares me.

Before I get too lost in this, I slowly unwrap myself from her. When I go to pull my arm out from under her, she curls her face up and grunts in her sleep before rolling into my chest. She snuggles close and settles with a sigh. Fuck, that’s adorable. How am I supposed to deny her this comfort? I shouldn’t lead her tobelieve that I am capable of love, because I’m not. She might not ever be able to escape me, but I still want her to be happy. Why do I care if she’s happy? She is just my revenge fuck.

Damnit, Talon. No. You are not her. You are not heartless. It wouldn’t fucking kill me just to let her have this.It’s admittedly nice. Here in just a few hours, she is going to be my wife. So what if I let my wife cuddle up to me in the privacy of our bedroom? Isn’t that normal even in loveless relationships? Did Dad and Cheryl cuddle the night before she murdered him? Probably not.

“Laney,” I say softly. I noticed that she scares easily, so I’m trying not to get punched in the face because I scared her. I gently squeeze her shoulder before rubbing down the length of her arm and back up. Her eyes suddenly snap open, and she throws herself away from me.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says. I grab her and pull her back to me so I can cup her cheek. Her entire body is trembling, and it doesn’t faze her. It’s like the most normal thing to her.

“Don’t apologize,” I tell her. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

“Look,” I say, pausing for a second to collect my thoughts. “Last night, I was extremely hard on you. I have a lot of pent-up anger from Logan, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. So, for that, I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly.

“How did you get the black eye?” I ask.

“Logan,” she says. “He uh… likes his clothes hung up a certain way.”

“He punches you for not hanging his clothes up correctly?” I ask, and she nods.

“Can I ask something?”

“You can,” I say as I prop up on my elbow to look down at her.

“Logan said you were in a gang?” she asks. “I lied at dinner last night. They never talk about you. He made you sound dangerous… Deadly really.”

“I suppose you could call us a gang,” I say. “We are more like a club. Just a group of like-minded people who like to ride motorcycles. We are involved in dangerous things like selling weapons and gambling. On occasion we loan money with heavy interest.”

“Have you killed anyone?” she asks.

“I have,” I pause. “Many people, actually. Why?”

“Are you ever going to kill me?” she nearly whispers. Her eyes look up at me like some terrified puppy. It’s the cutest look on her. My eyes drop to her lips, wanting them, but I resist and meet her gaze.

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