Page 106 of Corpse Roads

The knife cuts are so deep, I can’t feel anything over some patches of skin. The damage is permanent. He worked in methodical silence, creating a piece of art for the Lord’s approval. I came so close to walking into the light.

Something in me refused to let go. I was tired, starved, desperate for a reprieve from the violence. God took one look at his offering and cast me out, back into the darkness of the cage.

I survived.

That was only the beginning.

“Please don’t look,” I beg him, biting back a sob.

His eyes refuse to look away.

“Harlow, you’re beautiful inside and out,” Hunter proclaims softly. “These marks are part of you. They tell me how strong, brave and fucking formidable you are. All I see here is proof of that.”

His mouth crushes back on mine, cementing his words. Heat pulsates through the grip of anxiety holding me prisoner. Hunter pins my broken arm over my head, exposing my breasts.

Lips trailing down my neck, he sucks and nibbles on the sensitive slope of skin. The light bruises from the incident with Leighton have faded, leaving no evidence of our collision.

Does it matter that I kissed him too?

What would he say if he saw this?

Tiny bites and open-mouthed kisses force me to cast all thoughts of Leighton aside as his brother takes my nipple back in his mouth. Excitement zips down my spine. It feels so good to be touched.

Thumbs stroking over the tender skin of my ribcage, Hunter kisses all the way down to my belly button. I hate that he’s seeing my scars up close, but when his tongue flicks around a gruesome lump of skin, I see stars.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he repeats, kissing each violent slash of the knife.

Reaching the edge of my panties, his fingers hook underneath the elastic. That’s when I realise how damp the material is. I panic, closing my thighs around his head.

“What is it?” he demands.

“N-Nothing,” I stammer.

Pushing my thighs back open, he looks at the wet cotton as his smile turns devilish. I have to cover my mouth as he takes a deep, unapologetic inhale of my panties.

“Little Harlow is so wet,” he muses. “You’re dripping, sweetheart. I can see your thighs glistening. Is that all for me?”

His beard is so rough against my skin. Back arching, I silently plead for relief. I don’t know how to do it myself. Cold air meets my most private area as he tosses the panties aside.

“Hunt,” I gasp again. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“I don’t… I… ah…”

As he leans in, the rough scruff of his beard brushes over my folds. The combination of sensations almost sets off an explosion inside of me. I’ve felt around while showering, and I know the basics.

He easily finds the bud of nerves that I haven’t dared to touch before. Rolling it between his fingers, Hunter smirks up at me.

“Look at this perfect pussy, untouched and waiting for me. Do you want me to taste you, Harlow?”

Tongue flicking against my sensitive bud, he sets off that internal wave of pleasure again, hitting me harder this time. I moan as my eyes squeeze tightly shut.

The warmth of Hunter’s tongue flicks between my folds. He licks and sucks at my core, each stroke reminiscent of an expert violinist playing his favourite instrument.

“I want to see how tight you are,” he says.

Gasping loudly, my legs spread further as his finger drags over my entrance. I’m so wet and feverish, I can’t stop the tiny trembles that wrack over me at his touch.

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