Page 48 of Shame

When he suddenly stands, and I almost fall off his lap, I don’t know whether to be relieved, or scared.

“Gentlemen, youngsters,” Lucas’ head whips around and his eyes dart between me and the asshole holding my upper arm in a vice-like grip, “it’s time for me to retire for the night. As always, feel free to stay as long as you like. Drinks are on the house.”

Lucas stares at us in horror as Salvatore moves, pulling me with him with a bruisingly rough grip. Then I lose sight of him, as we exit the room. My heart sinks. I’m alone with the monster again.

“You haven’t said a word the whole night, Miss Moreno. Are you shy all of a sudden?”

I stumble next to him, never getting a chance to get my bearings. “What’s there to say?”

“So bitter?”

I scoff.

“Now there’s my snarky little girl.”

“I’m not your girl,” I sneer.

He stops abruptly and pushes me up against a wall, his hand gripping my chin. “Are you Payne’s girl then? Hmm? You’re mine, sweetheart. He’s mine. I own every little part of you, your mind, your soul, your body. Fuck him again and I’ll make him go away.”

It feels as if all the blood drains from my face. “Please,” I gasp. “I won’t see him again. I promise.”

I give up then. I don’t care anymore. There’s no life for me left to live.

He smirks as he sees my defeat, then he grabs my arm again and shoves me in front of him. “Get in there, get naked. Get yourself fucking wet because dry-fucking you is getting old.”

I stumble into his bedroom. It’s only lit by a little light in the window. It’s dead quiet. The door falls closed behind me, and I’m yet again alone with the man who holds my whole life in his hand.

Spinning around, I face him. His eyes glint in the semi-darkness. I grab my dress and pull it over my head, tossing it on the floor in front of his feet.

“I will never get wet with you! I don’t get off on pain and humiliation. You don’t turn me on in the least! You disgu—”

He slaps me hard. My head rocks to the side and I taste blood. “Fuck you,” I sneer as I cup my burning cheek.

Salvatore grabs my waist and throws me on the bed. “Dry-fucking it is then,” he growls. He grips my arm and twists me around so I lie on my belly, holding my arm pushed so high up on my back I cry out. I hear him undress. Spit lands between my ass cheeks, then he puts his cock against my tight rear hole and pushes in, ruthlessly, uncaring that I scream, the agony almost making me black out. But only almost. I wish I’d faint. Or die.

I don’t know how long he rapes me anally. Because I’ve learned now. That’s what it is. I might be a working girl, but we can be raped too.

Suddenly, he pulls out and long, hot spurts of his cum covers my back. My ass burns beyond belief. I’ve drenched the sheet with tears, snot and saliva. I have nothing left. No energy. No will to defend myself. No sense of self. Nothing. A part of me wishes he would kill me.

He falls on his back next to me, I don’t move. I stare at the dimly lit, luxurious room. I see it, but at the same time it doesn’t register. Salvatore breathes heavily next to me. The mattress rocks when he stands and disappears into the adjacent bathroom. Toilet flushes, the shower runs, then he comes back with a towel wrapped around his waist, his skin glistening with drops of water. Throwing me a towel, he then sits on the bed next to me. I don’t move.

“You should dry up.”

I still don’t move.

He sighs and grabs the towel, wiping off my back in a few rough strokes before he shoves it between my legs.

“Why do you keep hurting me, Mr. Salvatore?” I ask dully, staring at nothing, still unmoving.

He’s silent, then the mattress sinks on his side as he lies down. He sighs. “Other’s pain turns me on. It’s how I get off.”

“That’s sick.”

“I’ve never claimed to be anything else.”

“Do you know what I am?”

“A whore.”

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