“Then you better fucking kill me first,” I snarl at him. “Because that’s the only way your dick is ever going inside me again.”
“That can be arranged,” he says, sitting back. He stares down at my stomach, where my shirt rode up when we were wrestling, and his eyes widen. He transfers my wrists to one hand, pulling them above my head, and toys with the little hoop through my bellybutton.
“What is this?”
“It’s a piercing,” I say. “Preston gave it to me. He did it himself. And I fucking love it.”
Royal’s finger hooks through it, and he rips it out. A spike of pain drives straight from my navel through my body to the car. I can’t even draw a breath to scream. I can feel hot blood pooling on my skin where he tore it. And it feels so fucking good. Each heartbeat is a throb of pain, and that’s all I feel. The rage is gone, the hurt, the confusion.
He leans down, pressing his broken mouth to mine. I kiss him back hard, punishing his swollen lips with mine. I hear him unbuckling his belt, and I reach down, shoving his pants down, needing him in a way I don’t understand, needing the pain to obliterate everything else that I don’t want to feel right now. He lowers himself onto me, and I can feel the same desire in him. His cock is hot and stiff against my belly, throbbing against the torn flesh of my navel.
“You want to tell me again that no man can want you?” he says, his voice rough against my mouth, his cock sliding in my blood.
“What’s the point in fucking me?” I snap. “You can’t even finish when two girls are sucking your dick at once. You’re not a closer, Royal. You choke.”
“Oh, I’m going to fucking finish this time,” he says, shoving my jeans down over my hips. “Trust me, baby. I’m going to cum so deep inside you that you can’t remember anything but the way my cock owns every inch of you, inside and out. You’re fucking mine, Harper. It never ends. You’re right about that.”
The rain beats down harder, hammering against the metal around us, drowning out a chance at a reply. He lifts his hand to his mouth, spitting a pool of blood and saliva into his palm, and then sinks it between my thighs. His slick fingers open me, skillfully stroking my center, sending a rush of longing through me.
“Then shut up and do it,” I yell at him over the sound of the rain on the car, the sound of the hood denting under us, the thunder rumbling and the trees howling in the wind. “Or are you so fucked up you can’t even cum for me anymore?”
He buries a finger deep inside me, and I gasp and arch up, trying to open my legs, which are bound by my wet jeans. “Shut that pretty mouth or I’ll fuck it right this time,” he growls back at me, leaning down to press his warm mouth against my ear. “You don’t call the shots anymore.”
He pulls back and watches me as his fingers slick into me quick and hard, his breath coming fast. Rain and his blood drips from his chin, and his eyes are alive and burning with lust. I’m shaking all over, my body hot and cold, thrilled and terrified, as if I’ve jumped from a plane with no parachute. This is how it ends. I need more, before it’s over. I can feel it cresting, something inside me, some monster roaring to erupt.
A sheet of rain slams into his back, splattering over my face. He leans over me again, blood dripping from his mouth to mine. I yank his head down, lifting my face to his, sinking my teeth into his lower lip. His blood blooms across my tongue, thick and salty like cum.
He shifts onto me again, wetting his cock in the blood pooling on my stomach before moving lower, smearing the thick head of it through my wetness.
“Fuck me,” I breathe, my voice shaking.
He thrusts up into me, and my blood turns to hot, shimmering electricity. A sound rises in me, climbing like the thunder rolling across the sky, a primal, animal scream that spirals up from my very soul. He pushes deeper, his thick, bloody cock stretching me and sending coils of pleasure spreading out through my body. When he fills my core, the raw, visceral sensation is too much.
I can’t hold back, can’t bear to feel this good again, can’t contain it. It’s too real. I open my mouth, and he presses his mouth down on mine, catching the sound that escapes, swallowing it. I can feel myself disappearing into him as I scream.
Something shifts inside me, and the urgency fades, the way it did when I cut myself. I can feel the hood denting and rising with each thrust at he pumps into me, his cock slick with my blood, and his blood, and his spit, and my own wetness. His muscles are tight, shaking, and his mouth is on my cheek. His body is hard and hot on mine, but I feel it in a different way, a detached way.
I know I made a mistake, that this is a mistake, but I can’t find the words that stop it, that reverse time and undo this terrible thing we’ve done. This is Royal. The man who told his brothers they could have me, they could do whatever sick things they had wanted to do to me all along. He let them hurt me. He turned away when I begged for mercy. He made it known that his protection ended that day. I hate him. I want him dead.
But I told him to do this. I opened my legs and invited the monster in, even after it ate my soul the last time. What is wrong with me?
It’s okay, though. It won’t last forever. It’ll be over soon.
It’s okay.
I keep telling myself until it’s true. I’m not being hurt. I can hardly feel him moving inside me anymore, into the deepest places. There’s a vague pleasantness in it, like having a day off to do absolutely nothing. The heavy, wet air around us and the slick metal under my back fade away, replaced by luxurious, smooth sheets and a room with cold AC, the air dry and crisp and clean.
I’m safe. I’m safe because this is all he wants, and he can’t take anything more. I know, because this has happened before. There’s nothing else to give. This is the end of the line, the last thing, and I’ve given it all up. Now I can relax and know that I don’t have to fight.
I submit, give over everything, like I did in the loft with Preston. And it’s okay.
“Harper.”
His voice is sharp, cutting through the haze of my thoughts, the veil of safety protecting me. His fingers cut into my cheeks again, the pain jerking me back. My eyes fly open. I try not to move, to let this be okay, to let this be part of the submission. If I can submit to everything he’s done before, I can submit to pain.
“Harper.” His voice is gentler now, but just as commanding. His grip on my chin loosens, but he doesn’t release me. He slides two fingers into my mouth, the ones that were inside me. They taste like pussy and blood, mine and his. “Stay with me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here. Look in my eyes. Don’t go away.”
He starts to move inside me again, holding my chin so I can’t look away, his fingers on my tongue forcing my presence. I close my lips, taste our combined flavor, and heat pulses in my core. I can feel him inside me, so big, his cock straining against my walls, reclaiming the very depths of me, where it aches in my core. The dominating rhythm of his thrusts owns me, forces my response.