Page 128 of Redeemed

He’s massaging tight circles into my clit in the exact same way I do to myself. I hate how quickly he’s learned my body when it took me years to figure it out myself. I hate that he can bend me to his will with a few strokes of his fingers.

Hate him, hate him, hate him.

“Answer the question,” he snaps impatiently, picking up the pace.

I gasp. Colton has me right on the edge, and I know he’ll happily shove me off it without any regard for how hard I’ll come crashing down.

“Haven,” he bites out.

I don’t want to say it. I never want to surrender to him, and I especially don’t want to like this. But as my orgasm crashes into me, all sense floods out of my body.

Just like always, Colton wins.

“Yes,” I cry. My back arches as electricity shoots through my body in horrifying shocks of pleasure.

“Good,” Colton growls.

He continues rubbing my clit, and after a few seconds, the friction turns near-painful. I try to squirm away from his touch, but he pins me down with his spare hand.

“Stop! It’s too much!”

“You can take it.” He goes faster, and when I scream, he slaps my pussy again.

Pain radiates from between my legs, but Colton finally stops. Shame floods my system as I realize what I just did—that I came at the hands of a man I can’t stand.

Colton disappears from my line of sight, and a moment later I feel him undoing my restraints. First, the spreader bar, then the cuffs on my wrists. Tears run down my cheeks, and I’m shaking, from rage or hatred or the cold.

Maybe all three.

I want to lash out, to claw Colton’s skin off until he looks on the outside the way I feel on the inside. But I also want to curl up and hide, far away from everyone and everything.

Maybe then I can finally escape.

Colton disappears through a door. The moment he’s gone, I bury my face in my hands. A sob rips itself free from my throat, causing my entire body to convulse.

I’m not sure if what Colton just did was worse than Isaiah. I know Colton has limits, but sometimes it feels like he doesn’t. Isaiah… If he has limits, I never found them. The fact that he hasn’t let me go yet—and that he threatened Julie’s life—proves that.

But what Colton just did is unforgivable. He doesn’t get to decide what I need to get past the trauma Isaiah caused me.I’mthe only one who gets to decide that.

When he re-enters the room, I watch him, frozen in horror. He has something in his hand, and when he climbs onto the bed, I realize it’s a wet washcloth. When he reaches for my face—to waterboard me, maybe?—I panic and start kicking at him. He grabs my legs to stop me and drags me closer to him.

“No,” I yell. This time, I’m able to scratch at him, and I leave long, red marks down Colton’s arms.

He doesn’t even react—not in the way I expect, anyway.

“Hey, hey, stop.” He holds my wrists gently but firmly. “I’m just cleaning you up.”

I go still. “W-what?”

“You’re a mess. Do you want to stay like this all day?”

All I can do is stare at him in stunned silence. He’s an expert in giving me emotional whiplash, and I know I should expect it by this point, but he always manages to catch me off guard.

“Just hold still.” He moves in slowly, like I’m a timid animal, and I’m reminded of what Lucas told me earlier today.

Lucas.I know he hates me, but he’s always been protective.Especiallyof the women in his life. There’s no way he would’ve let Colton do this to me if he’d been here.

Colton wipes away my tears first, only for new ones to replace them. Next, he cleans the drool from around my mouth, and then he nudges my legs open.

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