Page 41 of Violent Reign (Violent Kingdom)

Right—the wall. I don’t have the pleasure of being connected to the wall. No more laps around the cell for me, because now, in this new cell, they keep me handcuffed to the iron bed frame. Both wrists, up above my head. The cuffs cut into my skin. Soon, I’m going to get an infection and die from a fucking pair of handcuffs, but that’s probably the end goal anyway. Makes it hard to sleep, all the pain in my wrists. I fall asleep and when I wake up I pull against them because I can’t help myself.

Ouch.

I’m drifting in and out of consciousness, handcuffed to the bed, when the cell door swings open with a classic creak and a shadow falls across the floor.

A shadow with pigtails.

Rosaline.

The shadow sways, rocking its weight from foot to foot. “Wake up, Rome.”

Her voice is thick with something, thick with...what is that? Desire? Does she even know where she is? By the sound of it she’s high as a kite. Three more steps and I can see her. Ah—it was lust in her voice.

“I’m awake,” I croak. It sounds like I haven’t talked to anyone in years. Maybe it has been years, who knows.

Rosaline’s lust is a caricature. Wide eyes. Parted lips. Little gasps. She’s got to cut down on the drugs or she’ll die of an overdose, but she doesn’t care. She’s too thin, too high. And that multicolored rainbow wig.God.

I clench and unclench my fists in the handcuffs. This isn’t going to be good, but what the hell can I do? Not much, other than try and get into a position on my back where whatever she does won’t bother my already fucked skin.

“Tyler’s gone out for a few hours,” she whispers. “He told me I wasn’t allowed to come visit you.”

I smile at the ceiling. “So here you are.”

“Here I am,” she agrees, placing her hand on my chest.

I turn my head to take her in. Jesus. “You need to eat something, Rosie,” I say softly. “You’re skin and bones.”

“I need you, Rome,” she whispers. “Tyler’s okay, but he’s not you.” Her fingers skim across my collarbone, over my lips. “We were so good together, weren’t we?”Jesus Christ.

“So good.” Agreeing with her is a knife to the kidneys. A knife in the back. A knife in the fucking front. But these chances are few and far between and Rosaline is the only weak link in this situation. Tyler’s never going to let me go. It’s going to have to be Rosaline. “I can see how much you need me. I need you, too.”I need you to let me the fuck out of here, you crazy bitch.

She dives onto the bed and crawls up over me, making a face. “If you know how much I need it then why are you still dressed?”

I rattle the handcuffs against the bed frame. “Can’t get undressed, Rosie. My hands are tied.”

Rosaline throws her head back and cackles. “Lucky for you, I’m here to help. I’ll help you, Rome. Be a good boy and let me help you.” She undoes my jeans and tugs them off. When she climbs back on the bed her eyes have gone even wider. Christ, she’s disgusting. She licks her lips and lunges for my boxers.

I hiss through my teeth at the rough contact. I’ve had enough time to get ready but I’m not fucking ready. I’m not ever really going to be ready for this.

“That’s right. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Then Rosaline looks down at what she’s revealed. “Not good enough.”

She bends down and licks me, and fuck, fuck, I hate it. I hate it so much that I’d rather be dead. Except I need to let this happen, if I’m going to convince her. I let out a deep moan. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”Stop. Stop. Stop.“Do that some more.”

And god fucking help me, I think of Avery. I think of pushing her up against the wall and driving into her with all of me. I think of the sounds she makes when she comes. Her slick wetness all over my fingers. The light in her eyes when she fucks me back. We’re not supposed to be together, me and Avery, and I can’t blame her if she gets off on that. I do, too.

“Wow,” Rosaline whispers reverently. “That didn’t take long. Oh, you must want me so bad.”

She positions herself over me, the little scrap of a dress she’s wearing hiked over her hips, and she wedges herself down on my dick. If I look at her too long, desire ebbs, so I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes on the ceiling. I imagine Avery’s hand on my forehead. Her whisper in my ear. And I try to ignore the desperate rocking of Rosaline’s hips.

Rosie doesn’t care if I’m getting anything out of this. She squeezes her eyes shut and rides me, her fingernails digging into my shirt. Her bony hips thrust forward and back. It’s too hard, too wrong, but I’ve gotten through worse in my life. This only seems like the worst because it’s happening now.

“Yeah,” I say, because there’s nothing else that comes to mind. “Fuck me. Ride me.”

“I am,” she comes into my ear. “I’m riding your hard cock. Do you like it, Rome? Tell me how much you love it.”

“I love it. I love it so much, babe. I wish you’d come here every day.”

The door to the cell slams open and my heart leaps out of my body. Fuck, this is it—this is the day I die, and I had no idea. Because the only other person who can come in here is Tyler, and Tyler will have no choice but to kill me. Maybe kill us both.

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