But it’s the tightening of her walls that does it. The way she grips me. Already so tight, but now I can hardly move. Like she’s ready to come. Like I’ve broken her down.
I’m a heartbeat away from the edge when I pull out, barely able to aim for her ass in time. “Yes, Delilah,” I moan, fisting my cock frantically while the first spurt of cum shoots from my tip. Then another. The sense of sweet release is enough to buckle my knees. All the tension, all the worry and frustration, all my questions melt away in the face of bliss.
And there’s nothing left but me, and a cum-coated ass, and Delilah. Delilah who lies still on the bed, face turned to the side so she can breathe. She’s silent, eyes closed, almost completely still except for the way she finally loosens her fists.
“Maybe now you’ll think twice about playing along. Consider that a lesson for once you’re out of here.” I push away from her before tucking myself into my pants. “And from now on, your door will remain locked unless I say otherwise.”
I’m out of the room before she can fight.
Either that, or she’s finally starting to learn it will get her nowhere.
Chapter Ten - Delilah
One thing’s for sure: Luca Bruno is even more messed up than I guessed.
I don’t want to replay the events of last night, but that doesn’t stop them from running through my head like a movie somebody put on without my permission. And they stole the control, so I can’t make it stop. All I keep seeing in my mind’s eye is his face hovering over me, painted by moonlight, those eyes glittering with hatred and rage.
And it wasn’t until he almost choked me out that he got into it. He couldn’t get off until he knew I was scared. The man is basically a walking, talking therapy bill. I wonder if he’s ever considered getting help for whatever messed him up in the head.
It’s obvious now he thought he was getting a timid little thing, somebody he could knock around. He would have, too, if he’d ended up with my sister the way he planned. If all the time I spent at the bookstore reading whatever I could find taught me anything, it’s that sometimes years of trauma harden a person rather than breaking them down.
To this day, my sister flinches when somebody closes a door too loud. And I remember from the few times she’s slept over at my place that she never leaves her bedroom door unlocked. I always ended up either sleeping on the couch or sharing my bed with her, because she couldn’t bear the idea of sleeping out in the open in the living room even with the front door locked.
She would’ve broken down after what happened last night. I hardened, not her. Just another reminder that I’m doing the right thing, even if it means putting up with this psychopath and his twisted little kinks.
I sit up, startled, when there’s a knock at the door. It’s 7:30, and I’ve been awake for more than an hour, staring at the ceiling. Now I grab the blankets and pull them up to my chest. “Yes?” I call out. Nothing like starting the day with a mini heart attack. What fresh hell has he cooked up for me this morning?
“Breakfast tray.”
“Okay.” What does he want me to do about it, whoever he is? I’m certainly not going to greet him at the door. Maybe the guy wants a tip.
“Open the door?”
“I can’t,” I fire back. “Somebody locked it.” Honestly, who the hell does this man have working for him? I’m pretty sure there’s not a full brain’s worth of cells among all of the guards prowling the place. Jock seems like he might have half a brain, though. But I’m sure his boss wouldn’t have him do something this menial.
Whoever he is, his footsteps fade as he walks away, probably going to find out what he’s supposed to do now. So Luca wasn’t kidding when he said my meals would be brought to me, that I’m not allowed to leave this room. It’s like he’s trying to make me hate him more. Joke’s on him, since I doubt I could.
I only have to wait another few minutes before the guard comes back, and this time he has a key. I haven’t gotten out of bed yet—I’ll be damned if I’m going to rush around for their sake. I recognize him as the guy I said good morning to yesterday. He’s probably the one who first raised the alarm that I was, God forbid, walking around the house.
“Where should I leave it?” He keeps his gaze lowered, like he’s embarrassed. I almost feel bad for him. He looks young, no older than me.
“You can take it away, as far as I’m concerned. I’m not going to eat.”
He glances at me before looking away again. “The boss said—”
“And you can tell your boss thanks but no thanks. I’m not interested.” I pull the blankets up over my shoulders before slamming myself onto the mattress, rolling away from him. “I don’t care what you do with it. But I’m not going to eat whatever that is.”
By the time he sets the tray on the foot of the bed, I’ve counted to twenty. That’s how long it takes him to figure out what he should do. “He’s not going to be happy.”
“That makes two of us, then.” He mumbles something I can’t quite hear, but I’m pretty sure I pick up the word crazy in there somewhere. Yes, I guess I am. He has no idea how much.
The thing is, the food smells good. Nora knows what she’s doing, that’s for sure. I pick up notes of cinnamon and vanilla. There’s coffee there, too. It smells good enough to make my mouth water and my stomach clench tight. It wouldn’t hurt anything if I ate a little bit, would it?
No, but that would mean giving in, and I won’t do that. I’m not even sure what I hope to gain from this. A little freedom? Maybe. Or maybe I’m trying to get back at Luca for what he did to me last night. Of course, I’m punishing myself, too, but I can handle that. My personal record is two and a half days without any solid food. With that in mind, I sit up and grab for the coffee. At least it will help curb my hunger.
Once I have it fixed up the way I like it, I take the cup into the bathroom and run water in the tub. I need to find some way to pass the time, right? A nice, long soak might help with that. I’m sure somebody else will come up before long and try to convince me to eat, but until then I can at least close my eyes for a bit and try to disconnect.
Not to mention how much I don’t want to see that food sitting there. I’m only so strong. Out of sight, out of mind.