Page 51 of Worship

“Then why allow me to come in here?”

He glares at me, though I’m not sure his anger is directed at me. More himself. “Humoringyou.”

“Bullshit, Milton.”

Letting go of my wrist, he pushes my legs apart. Fighting is useless, especially as he inserts two fingers inside my pussy. My world spins, and I moan as he presses his mouth into my ear. “Maybe I do want you…maybe I always have.”

“Fuck you. You hated the job Blake gave you.” I cry out when he goes even deeper at the mention of Blake’s name. “You didn’t want to look after me—I was just a burden to you!”

“Still are.” He plants me hard against the wall of the column, and I struggle to pay attention to anything other than how his fingers feel inside me. Even with the stone cutting into my spine. Even when he tried to kill me. I’m so achingly wet, needing to find some form of release from this torture he’s inflicted on me.

“We can’t—” he says, taking his fingers out of me; I whimper in protest.

“No, p-please.” I tighten my legs around him, close to tears. “Stop doing this to me.”

He gives me a quizzical look. “Doing what?”

“Torturing me.” Tears trickle down my face; I’m unable to believe the next words coming out of my mouth. “I want you.”

“Fuck sake.” He falls into me, lips slamming against mine again. I kiss him back, running my tongue against his lips, the same time reaching to pull the waistband of his boxers down over his length.

Breathing heavily into my mouth, he gives in, lining his cock at my entrance and thrusting inside of me. A breathless cry of shock escapes me as he fills me completely. He trembles when my tongue meets his, and I don’t care about all he’s done to me. Need is a veracious emotion, and I’m suffocating in it.

Pulling out briefly, he thrusts inside of me. I scream, the pressure in my lower belly growing. He rocks again, sending spirals of fire rippling through me. With both our bodies shaking, he drives into me again and again, his body smacking against mine and shoving my spine into the stone.

“Fuck,” he groans into my ear.

Flames and people fucking around us may as well be a dream, because right now, the only two people in this room are him and me. Vision fading, my core ripples, and tightens around his cock.

“Milton,” I groan as his hips slam hard into mine, each thrust grinding against my clit, enough. “Ahh!” I yell out, and it only makes him go harder, faster.Holy shit.

“Come on, Heidi. Fucking come!” Gripping me tightly, he pumps himself in and out, and just as I think I might pass out, I shatter. My body spasms uncontrollably as he thrusts fiercer, my walls clenching around him feverishly, prolonging my orgasm in a way that steals my breath.

His forehead meets mine, sweaty and hot, and he slows to a stop. I open my eyes just in time to see his face contort with pain as he pulls out of me, and I realize he didn’t come.

I want to ask why, but I have no energy. My head falls to the side, and I see others still having sex in the steamy haze. But the edges of my vision darken, and sleep calls me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

My eyelids flutter open. I’m back in the bed I was put in the first time I was here, the nice bedroom with its luxurious bed I wonder how many have slept in. As sore as me. Asbroken. Because, like those women, I had sex with the devil.

Seconds. That’s all it takes for everything to come rushing back, overwhelming me all at once. I all but scoffed at the mention of Milton running a sex cult in these deep, dark tunnels. How silly.Ludicrous.Now, I believe tonight it’s exactly what I witnessed. And I participated.

Flipping onto my back, I push the covers off my body, too hot and in pain. My back and between my legs are sore, but the sickness inside of me likes it—throbs for more. One time wasn’t enough.

After tonight, I know I’m as deep in Milton’s inferno as I’m ever going to be, and I need to know what’s to happen now. I have to know how far this is going to go…and if he still plans on sending me away.

Taking my time climbing out of bed, I go over to the door and pull it open, I start down the hall toward the living room, my insides sinking with disappointment when I don’t find Milton on the couch.

Just as I think he might not be here at all, a noise coming from a direction I’ve never been before have me curiously stepping forward. Slowly passing a small kitchenette adjoining the living area, I turn a corner, spotting two double black doors at the end of another corridor. Edging nearer, the sound of metal clinking together dries my mouth as I put my hand on the cold handle.

Cracking it open, just enough to see inside, my lips part when Milton’s naked, toned chest confronts me. His upper body is on display as he leans back against a workout bench. Heavy breaths fill the air as he pushes weights, muscles contorting, and bulging every time he strains. As I watch the beads of moisture roll across his body, I bite down on my lip, wincing when I break skin and taste blood.

Grunting, he drops the weights back down on the bar and sits up, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. Turning in my direction, he stops when he sees me spying on him by the door, almost as if he could sense me there. Like I know when he is.

I go still, taking in his face, his flushed cheeks. The way his hair clings to his forehead, eyes so troubled I wish I knew why. I don’t move as he walks over to me, soon stopping in front of me.

“I’m...” He suddenly reaches out and grabs me, pulling me inside. Pain shoots up my already sore spine as he slams me up against the door, lips meeting mine and stealing me of my breath. My life. My fucking soul.

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