Killing Chadwick Parker had landed her here.
One foot in front of the other, ten steps total, and she stood before her tormenter.
Darius took her wrist, brought it to his lips to gently kiss, before yanking her face first into the mattress. Tense and trembling she lay as she fell, cheek to red velvet. He stood and moved behind her, flipping the girl face up.
“It’s like the first time every time, isn’t it? My Pearl is practically a virgin. Always fresh. Always frightened.” Creeping over her body, he took her gauze-draped nipple into his mouth for a sharp suck. Once it popped free, he teased, “But I know how to make the virgin a whore.”
Eyes to the bed curtains, fingers fisted in the sleeves of the man’s robe, Pearl tried to lay still. Let him do what he may, let him take, knowing the night would end and she would forget all of it.
Tomorrow would be better.
Chapter 6
There was no tomorrow.
The first time he’d fucked her had been slow, deviously tender. It didn’t feel like the same frightening creature who’d taunted, threatened, and mocked.
He took her as one takes a lover, a cherished wife. Long kisses, sweet touches, even the sweeping entry of his engorged cock had been smooth. Long nailed fingers drifted over her body, delving into places that brought unimaginable p
leasures. She could have wept knowing love like that might truly exist in the world and that she’d never know it.
This thing didn’t love her. The proof was there in his violence when he’d grown bored of soft moans and fluttering cunts.
With his semen dripping from her slit, Pearl had panted, satisfied in body from a kind of release she’d never known.
Or had known many times but could not remember.
He’d pulled out, kissed her on the mouth as if she’d behaved perfectly, then abruptly shunted his arm straight inside the place he’d just used—all of his fingers, his fist to the wrist as she bucked, screaming for him to get them out.
Ripped and bleeding, he’d just as brusquely tore them away, leaving her hole gaping, oozing a blend of her pulped flesh, his come, and a steady flow of blood.
Her womb had been torn, her tunnel ruined, and with his teeth growing long and sinister, he met the screaming girl’s eye and watched her try to escape. He licked up the mess, swallowed bits of flesh, and savored her every cry.
Healing under those teeth and tongue, her insides knit back in place, her vaginal passage grew once again tight, and all the damage his nails had done disappeared into new flesh that was pink and engorged from vigorous attention.
The cruel lover concentrated his tongue near the top of her sex. What he did there arched her back in both loathing and unbearable sensation.
Restraining her with ease, he licked and sucked her swollen nub, twisting her nerves until she came, sobbing for mercy.
He stared down at the quivering mouth of her cunt, smirking at the pink fluttering lips that framed a hole empty and aching no matter how hard she’d climaxed. Shelving his chin atop her mound, Darius ran his gaze upward over her wildly heaving ribs to meet frantic eyes. “You wet the bed.”
Too far gone in her terror, all she could do was sob and wildly shake her head. She even begged him for help as if he were not the root of all her torment.
“Poor dear.” His weight came off of her thighs, Pearl curing into a ball.
It was a short reprieve, for the contented devil was eager for more flesh.
She shook like a leaf as he cooed and fussed, kissing healing bruises, whispering words of love against her skin. “Come now, my Pearl. Let me show you my love.”
It was almost impossible to speak. “This is not love.”
Groaning out a blissfully broken laugh, the man licked her tears. “In my thousands of years ruling our kind, I have never cared for a single female with such devoted attention. Not one of my own flock have I used since you became my possession—no matter how the slavering bitches beg for it. I have filled your home with treasures; drained many humans night after night so my face might please you and my blood might be sweet.” A lingering kiss was pressed to her slack mouth. “My entire existence is faithful to my delicate daywalker and the light she shares with me.”
Too much had been done in the short hours since she’d woken in the cursed room. Clinging to a pillow as if it could offer salvation, she buried her face and cried, “You promised to be gentle.”
“Is this not bliss?” Tangling his fingers through her hair, he forced her head back, drew her body to his chest, and sighed. “When you weep for me, I can taste the sunshine in your tears. When I drain you almost to the point of death, I can even stand in it for a few short minutes before I begin to burn. Whoever raped your mother and left her alive after the feed has my gratitude.”
That wasn’t love, his words were not soothing, and Pearl was in misery. “I don’t have a mother.”