Page 51 of Born in Depravity

I was crying because I had never felt something so shattering.

I was left in pieces by the end of it all.

I didn’t know who I was now that he broke me.

I was afraid to find out.

My muscles that had been tense during the buildup were now lax. Our skin was pressed into each other—not a single miniscule amount of space could be found. The sickening realization that I was lying in my captor’s arms, not by force, but to seek comfort after being torn open for him to see, was daunting.

He moved me, and I had to force myself to lie still, to not cling to him like a scared little child. The sheets fell to the floor when he stood, his big body an imposing sight to me while I lay there with not a stitch of clothing on. He was in nothing but black boxer briefs. He had gone to bed last night fully clothed, which meant he had taken those clothes off some time after I had fallen asleep before coming back to me and placing me back on his body.

My eyes took in his naked torso. I had never seen so much skin on a man before, and this man was beautifully scarred. Lines of jagged scars moved across his skin, from his pecs down to his abs, and even down his sides. I didn’t know what had happened to him, but whatever it was, it must have been painful.

Yet the scars didn’t speak of a victim. Damien was not a victim.

No, these scars only made him look that much more formidable, and I was fucking scared at the very sight of him.

He licked his lips, a wicked smile curving his lips like one of the evil villains I had envisioned while getting lost in one of my books.

The villains in those books always ended up losing. I had a feeling Damien didn’t lose.

“You look absolutely ravishing this morning, pet,” he said.

I looked away from him, pulling the pillow on top of me until it covered most of my body. He chuckled in amusement while he moved around the room. He put his clothes back on before he made his way to the ensuite bathroom. I kept my eyes on the window just a few feet from my head while the water turned on.

I didn’t need to try to escape. There was no point. The doors were locked. There was a lock on the outside and another on the inside, and I didn’t need to wonder why it was designed like this.

I wasn’t the first captive placed in this room.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked out, fresh faced and fully dressed. He moved to the bed. I flinched when I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder, but he didn’t do anything more. I could feel his eyes on me.

Then he moved his hand up to my hair, running his fingers gently through the long tangled mess of my dark hair, before he … petted me?

We didn’t say anything, and I didn’t know what he was thinking.

Probably thinking of more ways to break me.

Should I be thankful that it was just him last night?

Nikolay’s words from the day before came back to haunt me.

They wanted to share me.

I took in a broken breath of air before Damien moved to the door.

“Be good, pet. I’ll bring back a treat tonight.”

Whatever treat he wanted to bring back tonight, I didn’t want it. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but something must have given me away, because with a small laugh, Damien walked out the door.

I closed my eyes when I heard the lock click into place, before I shot out of bed, grabbing the sheet off the floor and wrapping it around me.

I should feel safe now that Damien had left for the day, but some messed-up part of me just felt scared.

Damien was scary, but he was now familiar. I didn’t know who else had access to this room and I didn’t want to find out. With shaky hands, I moved to the bureau against one wall. I let out a small cry in relief when I found clothes in there.

Men’s clothing.

But I didn’t care whose it was. I didn’t want to spend the entire day in this room without a stitch of clothing on.

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