Page 42 of Blood Spilled
It was a letter to my mother. A declaration of love and a proposition to run away with someone who could give her way more than my father ever could. She’d loved this man, but she gave away the one part of him she had left—their children and had them killed so easily. At first I thought it was because she couldn't bear being reminded of the past. It's clear to me now. My mother hated her sons, because they ruined her chance at happiness. My father would have never known if she hadn’t fallen pregnant, and she could have been far away on some island with the man she really loved. Now that I'm in the way of what she really wants, she hates me too. I read the letter over and over, letting it sink in.
My dearest love,
You have my heart and you always have. I don't love you any less today than I did all those years ago. Soon you and I will be together forever, then there will be nothing left keeping us apart. Meet at the spot on the pier where we shared our first kiss. There will be a boat waiting for us and I will be there too.
When the sun rises, our love will finally be free.
Yours always, Victor
My chest tightens and memories of Andy's face streaked with tears enters my mind. “I don't want to ever be apart from you, but I know this is how it will always be.”
My eyes sting and I repress my tears. Having the ability to feel and cry again has taken some getting used to. My mother may have been a decent person before, but any kind of humanity she may have had died with Victor. He was her answer to freedom and Angel is mine. Am I going to ignore it or am I going to meet him on that pier?
I stuff the letter and the picture inside the hidden pocket in my coat.
Angel stares down at me with invading eyes. “Talk to me, mi mascota. Are you having second thoughts? Once you go down this path with me, there will be no turning back.”
“It depends,” I say, taking a few steps back.
“On what?”
“On whether you catch me or not.”
With his brows raised in curiosity, he tilts his head. Before he can ask the question running through his mind, I run past the swing. He runs faster, gaining momentum. My breathing increases and my heart is pounding against my chest in both fear and excitement. My body loves the chase and begs to be caught. I loop around the trees and his footsteps pound harder against the ground, leaves crunching beneath them. My legs grow tired, and my feet start to drag as I continue to pant. I can almost feel the heat of his breath on my neck when I am yanked back by my coat. “You might run fast, but I run much faster.”
He pushes me to my knees. I try to crawl away from him, but he yanks me back by the waistband of my pants, clicking his tongue. “I don't get why you bother fighting me, but I don't want to tell you to stop since I love a good challenge.”
“Good,” I say, shoving back my foot to kick him in the stomach before crawling away again. He makes an oomph sound before jumping forward and pulling me by my ankles. He kneels between my legs. “You're going to pay for that, fucker.”
He yanks down my pants and his hand comes down on my right cheek, leaving behind a sharp stinging sensation. I grunt when it comes down again the burn only becomes more prominent. It heats up the rest of my skin, going straight to my dick. I rock my hips forward and he yanks off my tie and binds my wrists together. He pulls me back by my hair, and his lips hover over my ear causing me to shudder. “I'm going to fuck you now.”
“No.”
“I'm telling you, not asking. So be a good boy for me and take it.”
He presses his lubed fingers against my pucker, pushing them past my entrance. I rock back and forth, needy and desperate. “Mmm, I missed this sweet hole. Did it miss me?”
“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” My words come out broken.
“Oh, but I’d much rather fuck you and I think you would too, mi mascota.”
I push my ass against his fingers, needing more. Needing him. However, I won't give him the satisfaction of telling him that. Not today. If only my body would stop betraying me by going against my words. I'm still mad at him for leaving me here. Then he has the nerve to show up out of nowhere making demands. Fuck him.
He pulls out his fingers and I resist the urge to whine in frustration. The emptiness I'm left with is more than I can bear and my body trembles from the loss of his touch. I'm quickly over it when his tip is pressing against my pucker and he shoves his cock deep inside me in one quick thrust.
“Get off me, asshole.”
“No,” he whispers in my ear.
“I fucking hate you?”
He laughs. “Do you? Even this?” He rocks forward, grinding against me. A loud moan escapes my lips and he wraps a hand over my mouth, continuing to drive into me. He yelps when I bite the palm of his hand.
“Yes. I hate all of it.”
Yanking me back by the hair, he presses his sharp teeth down over my left lobe, increasing his thrusts. The pain is sharp, but brings me close to the edge. “Sounds like you're loving it to me. You bite me and I bite you back.”
I reach for my cock, stroking my fingers over it as heat pools in my belly. He slaps my hand away. “What did I tell you? That's my cock. You only touch it when I tell you to.”
