Page 13 of To Have and to Hold

“Now I want to taste it fucked, ruined. Get ready, virginal little wife of mine.” His words were so cold, but they sent a wave of relief down me. He didn't know. He kicked my thighs apart with his knees and settled between them, putting all his weight on me. “And don’t worry,” he whispered in my ear, crushing me with his chest. “If you don’t bleed, I’ll make you.”

His hard cock thrust into me, dry and stretching, vicious and intrusive. My vision blackened as he didn’t relent, shoving himself as far as he could go until his hips smashed against my thighs and he groaned, deep and terrifying. Even though this wasn't my first time, it was so, so much more painful than when Theo had breached me.

He looked rabid above me, slamming and slamming while I screamed out, unable to stop myself from reacting with cries and bellows of pain. I tried to send my mind to Theo, to his gentle, revering touch. But the intense stabbing daggers emanating from my very core and rippling to the tips of my fingers and toes kept me in the present.

Rafe released my throat and braced himself with his hands on either side of my head, each of his slamming thrusts pushing me up the bed until I was smashing into the headboard, the knives on the wall rattling with every slam of his hips. I cried out in pain again, but he didn’t care when my back bent at an awkward angle and my face pressed into my chest. He just continued claiming what was his. What had been gifted to him in exchange for power.

Then his hands slipped under the pillows, and I felt the briefest moment of panic before everything stopped. He ceased movements. His heavy breathing and my whimpering was all that could be heard.

He sat up, keeping his cock inside me, and I saw what was in his grasp. How switched on was this man? In the middle of this, he’d managed to find a tiny pin in this vast, blanket covered bed. In that flash of a moment before he reacted, I realized how deeply I'd underestimated him. Fear vibrated my skin.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning the thing around in his hand. He reminded me of a hawk, honing in on the tiniest danger, tense and watching at all times. Still so stretched around his cock, I was frozen. “What is this!?” he demanded for a second time, his voice a booming shout, his icy gaze so so scary on mine.

“I… I don’t know,” I lied, and he saw right through it.

He trailed the pin down my skin, along my collarbone, before circling one of my nipples. He pressed the sharp tip into the thin flesh, not breaking it. Not yet.

“The only weapon you could get?” he mused. “Swiped from the dressmaker when she was doing her final alterations this morning?”

I shook my head.

“Tell me what you were going to do with it?” He began fucking me again as he poked me with the pin, grabbing one of my breasts and squeezing, leaving sharp stings of pain all over. My back throbbed in agony. God, I wished I could disappear in my head, go somewhere not filled with this horror and fear. “Tell me, and maybe I won’t do it to you instead.”

“I don’t know!” I yelled. “I don’t know! Please…” As I wailed, he grabbed my breast and squeezed, pushing my nipple up between his thumb and forefinger like he was trying to milk me. Rough and tugging, my wail turned into a squeal of pain as he crushed me there. My back bowed, and I was sure he was about to rip my entire breast from my body, but then, in a flash, he drove the pin through my nipple, piercing right to the other side with a slam of his hips and a grunt. I screamed, begged, pleaded, every movement causing the sharp pain to crash through me.

He laughed and squeezed the flesh again, making blood pool around the pin as he twisted it and dug it around under my skin. "I just need your blood, precious. Virginal from your pussy and sliced from your skin." He leaned down and bit my ear, making me squeak in pain. "This is the least of it." Both his large hands attacked my breast then, one squeezing, one probing with the needle, poking it through repeatedly from the same entry hole, burrowing the thin metal under the thin skin with a look of evil fascination. The pin, that tiny pin, it was supposed to save me from his wrath. It was just another glimmer of hope I'd lost.

“If that falls out, I’ll rip your nipple off with it,” Rafe growled, then flipped me, his cock falling from my body with a sliding thud. My body shuddered and settled into this new position, then he shoved my back down, forcing my chest into the mattress, making a fresh sharp sting radiate from my nipple. Tears streamed from my eyes that I wished he couldn't see. I had no strength here. No power.

His hands landed on each of my ass cheeks and he spread them wide, the tips of his fingers digging like he was trying to claw me apart. There was silence, like he was inspecting me. “You didn’t bleed,” he noted. “There is a disappointing lack of blood on my cock.”

“Take some from my tit, then,” I muffled into the mattress, regretting my rash words the second they came out of my mouth – I never spoke like that. My mind often went dark, taking me to fantasies of violence and brutality, but he'd damaged my mind so much already I'd lost my filter. But he only laughed.

"I can make you bleed in other ways, stupid girl."

My eyes stayed squeezed shut as he leaned over me, reaching for something above my head. There was a soft snick of metal scraping along metal, then he settled back, grabbing one of my thighs and forcing my legs wider.

"Please…" I cried, though we both knew it was pointless.

His wet cock rested on my thigh as he withdrew it, then I felt the sharp iciness of metal against my ravaged flesh. A knife. He had a knife against my opening. Without thought, only fear, I tried to scramble away, my heart pounding in my stomach and genuine, terrifying and aching desperation making my every limb fight. Squirm. Battle.

But he was stronger. He was stronger and he moved his legs over mine to pin me. Then white, hot pain seared through me as he pressed the blade inside me, slicing it's way through where his cock had just been. It was small, not stretching, but sharp and brutal. Black out pain consumed me as I begged and fought, but it made it worse.

"Ah, silly girl has realized the knife in her pussy won't hurt so much if she stays still," Rafe teased, twisting the blade so it scraped against my most sensitive skin. "I have what I need now. Virgin blood direct from the source… Freshly broken in."

"Please, Rafael, please stop…"

He laughed at me.

"No more, no more," I cried, desperately trying to keep my legs still now. "Anywhere else, please please please."

Relief rippled through me like pins and needles when he tugged the knife free.

“I need more blood. I think I’ll take it from your ass instead.”

He placed the bloodied knife by my head, and I could only sob when his finger pushed into my asshole, but it was so dry he couldn’t even force it in.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’m not in the fucking mood to stretch you out.” After a beat, the first slap landed on my thighs, and again and again, he hit me, slamming his palm against my rear until I whined with each connection, feral and broken. As he lowered his blows towards my bleeding, raw pussy, it felt like needles slicing into me with each slap, and through it all, he grunted and groaned, telling me horrible things about myself ashe beat me. I knew to stay still and take it. And I managed it. But not silently. Not without imagining his death on a reel in my head.

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