I sit up, pressing my back into the front of the couch to hide my arms from his view. Not wanting him to see what I’m doing. I’ve only got an hour before Mike returns. He wasn’t on Nate’s side, but he also wasn’t on mine. There’s no way I can get free from both of them.
“They jerked off all over me. Those sick bastards covered me in their cum.” He keeps mumbling to himself. “Fucking humiliated me because of you.” His eyes lock on mine, and I freeze, praying he can’t tell that I have a plan. Pushing away from the table, he walks over to me but pauses, his eyes on the floor. My throat tightens when I see what he’s looking at. I try to take in a calming breath.
No. Please, God. No.
Bending down, he picks up the roll of duct tape and continues to walk the short distance over to me. “They fucking gagged me. I’ll do the same to you.”
I lift my chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my fear. “You also got turned on. What’s that say about you?” I don’t remember what happened, but Colt had told me that this morning. And by the way his face morphs into rage, I hit a nerve. Good. I want him irrational. I can control the situation better.
He grips the back of my neck and shoves my face into the floor while he straddles my back, cramming my restrained arms between me and his body. I grit my teeth at the pain. Gripping my hair, he picks it up off the floor and starts wrapping the tape around my entire face. I fight him with all I have, but I’m just too weak. Some gets in my mouth, and I taste my hair. He wraps it over and over until I’m afraid he’s going to place it over my nose too, suffocating me. But he stops and stands up off me.
My head falls to the floor, and I suck in a breath through my nose, reminding myself to stay calm. The last thing I want to do is have a panic attack. I’ve never had one before, but I know if I do, it won’t be good. My air is already restricted.
He grabs my ankles and pulls me across the floor back toward the kitchen, and then he’s ripping my shorts and underwear off. I cry into the tape, unable to stop myself because I know what’s coming.
Rolling onto my back, I kick my feet out and buck my hips, trying to harm him in any way. But he drops to his knees, straddling me, and wraps both hands around my neck, cutting off my air. Tears run down the corners of my eyes, and I fight harder. Refusing to give up and let him win.
“Beg him now!” he screams in my face, spit flying from his mouth. “Huh, you fucking whore. Beg Colt to fuck you now.”
I arch my neck, trying to get my face away from his, but he starts shaking me, and dots cover my vision, and that pounding in my face intensifies. My body starts to convulse while my chest heaves, and my attempt to fight back grows weaker. My eyes grow heavy, rolling back.
He lets go, and the blood rushes to my head. I’m wheezing, face pounding, and throat burning. I blink the tears out of my eyes, trying to get my bearings back. My body is too heavy to move, which gives him enough time to unzip his pants. He readjusts himself between my legs, spreading them wide, and he spits on my pussy.
I arch my back as a sob wracks my body at how weak he’s made me. I don’t have any strength left right now.
“Fucking bitch,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll show you all who is in charge here.” When he pushes his cock into me, my body stiffens, and he slaps my face.
The force has me looking underneath the coffee table, and that damn phone is still propped up, still filming. I just stare at it as my body rocks back and forth on the floor.
“Whose slut are you now, Raylee?” he asks. “Mine.”
I let my eyes fall closed. Maybe if he thinks I’m dead, he’ll stop. But I’m not giving up yet. No. I just need a few more seconds to recover. To have a little more strength.
“Look at me when I’m fucking you.” He grips my cheeks and rips the side of my face up from the floor. “Look at me. I want to see you cry for me, baby.” I feel him spit on my face, making me flinch.
Swallowing the bile that rises so I don’t choke on it, I look up at him and spread my legs wider for him.
He pauses, his cock pushed inside me. Tilting his head, he gives my neck a little squeeze. “See, I knew you’d like it, you fucking whore.” Leaning down, he runs his tongue across the tape that keeps me from telling him to go to hell. When he pulls away, he removes his hand from my face. And I realize this is my chance. “I’m going to fuck this cunt.” He kisses my taped lips. “Then I’m going to fuck that ass—”