Page 40 of Don't Say A Word

I’m going to die.

Desperation to breathe gives me enough energy to twist in my restraints, a last-ditch effort for air. Darkness swirls in my vision, creeping in the sides, leaving nothing but a hole that is filled with the square patch of moonlight.

And then his hand is gone, and I suck in air, choking and spluttering as it fills my lungs and coats my raw throat. He walks slowly over to the bed, retrieving his discarded belt. It’s then that I notice the studs of silver that dot it. Small but vicious.

“Now you are going to learn what happens when you don’t submit.”

The pain of the lash is nothing compared to the bite of his belt. I can’t help the cry of pain that escapes. There is no point pretending I’m strong anymore. Defiance has deserted me. Moisture beads on the skin of my backside. Blood. Small droplets that rise from the broken skin.

I am alone with the devil.

Six times his belt scorches my skin. Across my backside, my thighs, my back. The pain is almost unbearable. I say almost because I know there is more to come. I know it because of Star. I know it from his grunts of depraved desire.

Metal clinks against concrete. He has dropped his belt. But it does not bring comfort. There are things worse than his belt. His heavy breathing scares me. It’s not from exertion. It’s from excitement.

When his body presses against mine, it is no longer clothed. His hard cock pushes against my backside, slick and sliding with my blood. His hands travel over my breast, twisting my nipples sharply.

I’m crying. I hadn’t noticed before but my cheeks are wet with tears and my vision is blurred.

“Please,” I beg.

“Please, what?” he asks, his tongue reaching out to lap my neck.

“Please stop.”

“Did you do as I asked when I asked nicely?” His hands travel down my body, over my stomach. My breath hitches when he reaches the bone of my hip. “No. You didn’t.”

His cock pulses. His fingers snake further. And then they are inside me. It’s too much. I need to escape. I can’t be present. But there is no relief as he pushes, animalistic moans grunted into my ear as he rubs his body against mine.

“You like that, don’t you?” He pushes further, twisting his body to allow him deeper access. “Yes. I can tell you do. You just wait until it’s my cock inside you. I will take you. All of you. It’s what’s supposed to happen. It’s how you are supposed to be trained.” He groans, his tongue once again lapping my skin, tasting the cold sweat that covers my body. “Ryker thinks he can keep you all to himself. Well, that’s not the way it works around here. Sluts submit. To everyone.”

The words are only just out of his mouth when the door bursts open and Ryker storms across the room, ripping him away from me. He knocks him to the ground, pinning him with his body, and throws punch after punch into his face. Marcel yells. He screams.

It is a beautiful symphony.

Marcel tries to cower from Ryker’s onslaught but there is nowhere to hide. Ryker is relentless. His fists pound into flesh over and over until exhaustion is the only thing that stops him. Getting to his feet, he draws in a breath heavily, wiping the spit from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re done here.” His voice is colder than ice. Walking over to the door, he holds it open and jerks his head at Marcel. “Get out before I change my mind.”

He can barely stand, but somehow Marcel makes it to his feet, blood dripping from his face, eyes swollen, nose broken, body naked. He stumbles out without a glance in my direction.

CHAPTER TWENTY

MIA

Relief slumps my body just before the pain engulfs me. And then Ryker is there, lowering the chains, unlocking my wrists and gently lifting me into his arms.

He is warm.

He is safe.

My head falls to his shoulder as he carries me to the bathroom and turns on the shower. I waver in and out of awareness, not wanting to face the reality of my existence. His hand hovers back and forth under the stream of water. His arm is bare, the tattoos on his skin dark. He steps forward and the water washes over me, causing me to wince.

But I am still in his arms.

I am still safe.

How long we stand there, I’m not sure. Shielded in his embrace, my hands looped around his neck, clinging to him, water pours over us. It is tinged red when it swirls around the drain, stained by my blood.

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