A Vow Of Hate

by James, Lylah

  She swallowed and then grimaced. “I had a nightmare. My sister…”

  Julianna left the sentence hanging and I nodded in understanding. While she might have realized that she had been trying to atone for her sins in an irrational way, Julianna still carried shame and regret in her very soul.

  To be relieved from the heavy burden of survivor’s guilt wasn’t any easy feat.

  Her face was etched with sorrow and despair, her scars appearing more pronounced over her pale skin. If it was salvation Julianna wanted, she had to forgive herself first.

  Atonement was righting the wrong.

  Not causing more harm. Especially to her own self.

  I wished I could make her understand that, but she was so stubborn in trying to chase her version of redemption.

  “Do you often get these nightmares?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. While Julianna had been battling her fever and I stayed by her side, she ended up with more than one nightmare every night, thrashing and screaming.

  At first, I blamed it on her sickness and thought she was hallucinating because of how high her fever was. But then I quickly realized the nightmares probably plagued her every night and it wasn’t just because she was sick.

  “More than often,” she responded, her voice breaking. Julianna took another sip of the whiskey and then coughed. “This is disgusting.”

  I placed my empty glass on the coffee table. “What are your nightmares about?”

  “The accident,” she choked. “But it’s never the same. The scene is always changing in my head, different versions of the accident and I don’t even know which one is real anymore.”

  I blinked, confused. “You’re saying that you don’t remember the accident?”

  Julianna shook her head. “Not exactly, the details are all blurred. That night is literally a huge empty gap in my memory.”

  “Selective amnesia,” I concluded. My wife nodded, looking more dejected than ever.

  “She haunts me, Killian.” Her hand clutched her chest as if it pained her. “I can still hear her screams, the smell of blood and how pungent the scent of death was. As if it happened just yesterday.”

  Julianna slammed the bottle on the table and surged forward, falling to her knees in front of me. Almost frantically, she grasped for my hand.

  “Hurt me,” she begged, her voice cracking.

  My heart hammered against my rib cage. “What–”

  “You don’t understand.” Tears welled in her grey eyes. “I need pain.”

  “Julianna,” I started, but she was already shaking her head.

  “You said I self-destruct and it’s true,” she wheezed, a lonely tear sliding down her scarred cheek. “The reason is because I need pain. It grounds me. Keeps me focused. And because I don’t want to fall back into that void of nothingness once again…I don’t want to mess this up again. I want to fix it, fix us… but I need to stay focused for that.”

  Her nails dug into my hand. “I crave pain, Killian. Tell me you understand. Tell me you can give me what I need.”

  Her hair was a messy nest on her head and she was shivering. Julianna blinked, her smoky grey eyes trapping me once again. Her full lips were swollen pink as if she had just been chewing on them. She licked her lips, slowly, and my dick twitched. And it was the desperate look in her eyes that got me – fuck – she was so damn addictive and far too fascinating for her own good.

  “Do you hate me, Killian?” Julianna asked, and I knew where she was going with this.

  “Yes,” I rasped.

  “Good. Then, hurt me. Please.”

  I tugged my wife forward, caging her between my legs. “We need a safe word,” I advised calmly. “The moment you say your safe word, everything stops.”

  “Thorn,” she replied quickly. “Thorn is my safe word.”

  I nodded, while unbuckling my pants. “Thorn, it is.”

  Julianna reached for me, placing her palm over my bare chest. Her thumb brushed over my nipple, tentatively. I gripped her wrist, pulling her hand away and squeezing enough to leave my marks but not to cause her pain. “You don’t get to touch me unless I tell you to.”

  She gasped and then a shiver racked through her body. Julianna nodded, shyly.

  Releasing her wrist, my hand went to the back of her head. I did quick work of undoing her bun before my fingers tangled in her blonde hair, wrapping the length of it around my fist. Once and then twice, my knuckles digging into her scalp. I gripped her hard, pulling her head back and baring the length of her neck for me. She moaned softly and her eyes darkened with depraved need. Like me.

  Bringing my head to her neck, I inhaled her sweet scent. Strawberries. “How far will you go to please me, Julianna?”

  “Anything and everything you want,” she whispered.

  I chuckled against her throat. My teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, the place I knew that made her wet. I felt her clenching her thighs. I knew her body better than she did.

  I licked the column of her neck, tasting her sweetness. “Good girl.” I could hear the rough huskiness of my own voice. “Open your mouth, big and wide for me.”

  It was a pretty fucking sight, her on her knees for me, and when she opened her mouth, waiting patiently for me to feed her my cock, I almost spent my seed in my pants.

  I pushed my boxers down and freed my erection from the material. I grasped my length in my palm and then gripped the back of Julianna’s head. Her mouth stayed wide open and I slowly pushed my cock into her warm heat. The moment my hardness was halfway sheathed into her mouth, I let out the deepest groan.

  Fuck, this felt so good.

  Julianna swallowed against my thick length and before I could stop myself, my hips bucked forward and I shoved the rest of me down her throat.

  She gagged at first and her throat tried to fight the harsh intrusion. But I kept a firm hold on the back of her head, pushing her down onto my shaft until her lips met the base of my length and my heavy sack thudded against her chin. She wiggled in my grasp and I saw her eyes shining with tears as she fought to breathe.

  “Shh. Take it, Julianna,” I muttered in response to her gagging, breathless sounds. “Don't disappoint me.”

  Her pretty eyes widened at my words and she tried to shake her head, looking quite frightened at the thought of not pleasing me. “No? You don’t want to disappoint me, right?”

  Her gaze screamed YES as tears slid down her flushed cheeks. Saliva was also starting to dribble down her chin. Beautiful.

  I groaned, and if possible, my erection swelled bigger in her mouth. The sight of her lips stretched wide apart to take me and the wet sound of her throat swallowing against my length, was almost too much for me.

  Jaw clenched, I withdrew from her mouth and then thrust back inside. She gagged again, but this time, she didn’t try to wiggle away. The tears were a continuous river down her cheeks. I loved the sight of it, as barbaric as that sounded.

  I watched as Julianna breathed through her nose and then her cheeks hollowed as she sucked me. “Good girl. Now, let me fuck your pretty mouth.”

  I pulled out again, but Julianna kept her mouth open, inviting, waiting so submissively. Grasping the length of me, I rubbed the tip of my shaft over her fuckable lips. My seed coated the swollen pink lushness. Then, I slowly thrust back into her mouth until I felt the back of her throat.

  My hips started to move faster. Bucking in and out of her mouth, pulling out and shoving back inside. I was big, I knew that. Julianna had a small, pretty mouth. Too small to take my cock easily. But I still forced her to take every inch of me, even when she started sobbing and gagging furiously.

  A few times, I settled and let her breathe. She would then suck me leisurely, happy and content to serve me, before I picked up my pace again.

  Julianna gagged tearfully, looking so perfect and gorgeous with her mouth full of my dick. My abs clenched as I felt my climax quickly approaching. Shit.

  I pulled out, just in time to shoot my
release all over Julianna’s lips and chin. She was a pretty mess and I admired my work of art.

  Her cheeks were tearstained, face coated with my essence – looking utterly mesmerizing as a submissive.

  Chest heaving, I clenched my fists over my thighs. “Get undressed,” I said, keeping my voice contained. Though I felt anything but calm.

  Julianna made quick work of her clothes, throwing them carelessly on the floor before kneeling back between my legs. Her eyes darted to my belt as I dragged it through the loops of my pants, with a loud swishing sound.

  Her delicate throat moved as she swallowed, hard.

  Her grey eyes flared wide when I wrapped my belt around her neck.

  “Do you want to use your safe word?” I asked, gravelly.

  “No,” she confirmed, breathless.

  Thank the fucking Lord for that.

  Julianna whimpered as I tightened my belt around her throat and dragged her closer to me. She came willingly, her body flushed and gooseflesh peppering her skin.

  Julianna had no black veil to hide behind.

  She was bare and open for me, not a stitch of clothing covering her pale skin.

  Vulnerable.

  And so fucking beautiful; it hurt to look at her.

  Julianna

  My hand fluttered to my neck, where his belt was looped around my throat. Killian tsked darkly and my thighs clenched. I was so wet, achy and needy.

  “How will you pay for your sins, Julianna? How far will you let me go?” His fingers wrapped around my wrist, squeezing hard enough that I felt how strong he was but not enough to cause any real harm. “How much will you let me hurt you?”

  I swallowed before meeting his eyes. “How far can you go, Killian?”

  His eyes darkened. “You don’t want to know, Princess.”

  “Show me,” I pleaded hoarsely.

  His lips curled into a wicked grin.

  Thud. My heart was trying to pound right out of my chest.

  Killian stood, dragging me up by the belt. To be controlled by this man, who was so confident in his own skin and so self-assured about his own lust, it made me feel vulnerable.

  And safe.

  Warm and protected.

  Thud. Thud.

  He led me to the bed, then gestured for me to climb on. “On your hands and knees, Julianna.”

  I quickly got into the position he wanted me in. On my hands and knees, back arching, my ass in the air. His fingers trailed along the curve of my back, then between my butt cheeks, before brushing against my wet lips, over my most sensitive flesh.

  His touch disappeared from my skin and then I heard a rustling somewhere in the room. Drawers opening and closing.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  I was anxious, but anticipation licked its way through my fevered body. I waited for the pain, wanting it… craving it. A second later, Killian came to stand behind me again. His warmth cocooned me. Safe.

  “Pain is subjective,” he said slowly. “But this is going to hurt.”

  I turned my head slightly to the side and my eyes found the hairbrush in his hand.

  Oh. My mind went blank, blood roaring between my ears and my heart pounding heavily against my rib cage.

  My fingers curled around the bedsheet just when he brought down the back of the hairbrush over my left cheek. First, I heard the sound of it colliding against my flesh. Then, I felt the burn.

  “Oh God,” I whimpered. The sudden stinging pain took me by surprise. I was ready for the next one as it landed on my right cheek. I gasped, my body arching.

  He rubbed his palm over my ass, his touch cool on my burning skin. “Atone for you sins, wife,” he rasped.

  I nodded, voicelessly.

  Pain seared my skin and tears slid down my cheeks.

  Killian didn’t go slow and he wasn’t soft either. He punished me, brutally. The hairbrush hitting my ass over and over again, until it felt like my flesh was swollen and aflame.

  The agony somehow blended with pleasure. It was almost addictive. It was an exquisite ache, my veins burning with fire and lust. My wetness coated the inside of my thighs.

  This was real punishment.

  It hurt so bad.

  It hurt so good.

  I lost count how many times Killian peppered my ass with the hairbrush. But soon enough, I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel.

  And so, I did.

  I sobbed as the pain racked through my body, then followed by the sweet ache of pleasure. My climax slithered through my veins and I grew closer to the peak, dangling over the edge – waiting for his permission to fall.

  My vision grew dazed, my mind somehow drowsy and my eyes fluttered closed. This was everything I craved, everything I needed.

  Somewhere in the background, I heard something hit the ground and then my husband was on me. Covering my body with his own. Mounting me like a stallion that wanted to breed his mare.

  His erection brushed over my sensitive flesh between the juncture of my thighs, stabbing at my opening, but not yet breaching me.

  “My sweet masochistic wife,” Killian growled in my ear. There was unmistakeable pride in his voice and I reveled in it.

  I had been chasing an unknown release for so long, not knowing that this was exactly what I needed. I found salvation here, on my hands and knees. In Killian’s arms.

  His hand wrapped around his belt and he pulled my head back, forcing my body into an arch. His grunt was the only warning I got before Killian rammed inside the tight sheath of my sex. One forceful thrust.

  “Julianna.” My name rolled over his tongue, like a silent prayer.

  My lips parted with a silent scream and my climax rushed through me. I shuddered with how intense my orgasm was. My knees weakened and I slumped over. Killian had me pinned under his body as he pounded inside me like a savage beast. No longer composed or contained.

  Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

  His fingers dug almost painfully into my hips and I knew that would bruise tomorrow. My husband manipulated my body, forcing another orgasm from me. My breath caught and my eyes blurred as my second climax hit me. Fast and heavy.

  The sound of two bodies colliding together echoed through the walls of his room.

  His grunts; my moans.

  His groans, my whimpers.

  Killian came with a loud grunt, buried to the hilt, before he slumped over me.

  Chest heaving and our sweaty bodies entangled together…

  I had never felt safer or more desired, than in this moment.

  I found beauty in pain. Pleasure in agony. And salvation in my husband’s brutal yet exquisite touch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Julianna

  Two weeks later

  “You’re making me uncomfortable. Can you step back, please?” I said to the guy, who was around my age, as he crowded into my personal space. His breath reeked of alcohol and I grimaced.

  The house was loud and bustling with drunk young adults. Why did I convince my sister to come to this party? It was a bad idea and the moment I stepped through the door, I knew I was going to hate it. It was too loud and the smell of sweat and alcohol was heavy in the air.

  It unsettled me.

  “Oh c’mon,” he croaked, his fingers brushing over my stomach. “You’ve been eyeing me. Don’t play hard to get.”

  Eyeing him? When? I didn’t know who he was and I didn’t even remember looking at him. Fear slithered through my veins and I pushed at his chest, but he barely even moved.

  My breath hitched and my heart slammed into my throat when his hand slid under my shirt, over my bare skin. “No! Let me go, right now.”

  He snarled in response, his face hardening at my refusal to succumb to his invasive touches. He slammed my body into the wall, the back of my head knocking against it. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred.

  I felt wet lips against my throat and that was when it happened.

  He was wrenched away from me and Gracelynn stepped in front of me, shi
elding my body with her own. My eyes widened when my sister reared back and then her fist met his face. I heard the sound of bones breaking and he howled.

  “She said to let go, loser. What the hell. No is no,” she hissed. The guy was sprawled on the floor. He let out a pained groan before his eyes rolled back into his head.

  At the commotion, the crowd turned their attention on us and my knees weakened. Gracelynn grasped me by the elbow, pulling me through the sweaty bodies. The moment we stepped out of the loud house and we were hit with fresh air, I could finally breathe again.

  “Shit,” my sister grunted, shaking her right hand. “I think I broke my hand. Oh shit, it hurts.”

  “What?” I gasped, gently reaching for her, so I could take a look. It was red, but quickly turning into a purple shade and her hand was already swelling. “Oh no. This doesn’t look good. I’m so sorry.”

  Gracelynn let out a pained groan. “This is my dominant hand. Ugh. Do you think you’ll be able to drive us back home?”

  I nodded. Gracelynn had taught me how to drive. Though I didn’t have my driver’s licence yet, I was pretty confident I would be able to drive us home. It wasn’t that complicated. Just a few easy turns.

  I started the car while my sister got in the passenger seat. She let out another agonized hiss and guilt gnawed at me. This was my fault.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  Gracelynn shook her head. “It’s fine. Not your fault. That asshole deserved it.”

  I pulled the car out of the driveaway and made an easy turn to the left. It was past two AM and the streets were pretty much deserted. So, I wasn’t worried about traffic or panicking over too many cars driving past me.

  But a few minutes later, Gracelynn made a strange sound in the back of her throat. At first, I thought she was in pain, but after taking a quick glance at her, I saw unsettling fear and distress on her face.

  “Julianna,” my sister started slowly, “I don’t want you to panic, but I think a car has been following us since we left the party.”