by J. L. Beck
“I’m going to have a scar where I got shot because of you. It’s only fair that I give you a scar in the same spot. Don’t you think?” I can feel every part of him molding against me. Our bodies like two pieces of clay molding together, fusing into one unique piece of art. His scent fills my nostrils, cinnamon, and clove. It humanizes the situation, but nothing about it can calm my erratic heartbeat.
Fear and dread paint me from the inside out. He intends to hurt me. I know it.
“Please, don’t,” I whimper, and I feel his already hard cock twitch while pressing up against my ass cheeks. Is my begging turning him on?
“Tell me to stop, Princess, beg me, and maybe, just maybe I’ll show you the mercy your father never showed our family.”
“Please…please, don’t hurt me,” I beg, my voice giving away that I’m not only scared but also turned on. Is this what he wants? Does he want me to fear him? If so, he is succeeding.
“Fuck Princess, my cock is harder than steel,” he hisses and I wish I could see him. The blade in his hand presses deeper into my skin and the spark of fear I was feeling a short time ago turns into something more, something molten hot.
“Should I fuck you with the blade? Make you bleed like you made me bleed?”
“You…you really want to hurt me?”
A sinister laugh erupts from his throat as he moves the blade lower. “I don’t just want to hurt you. I will hurt you. I want your pain. I want your fucking fear. I want your tears, to taste them on my tongue while I fuck every single one of your tight little holes.”
My breath hitches as he slowly starts to move the knife across my skin, moving up my body. He releases his grip around my throat and replaces it with the edge of the blade. With his now free hand, he grabs onto my hips and makes me sit up so he can reposition himself and line up his cock with my entrance.
“Sit down on my cock. Be a good little slut and maybe I won’t sink this blade into your skin.” Another gush of moisture has my pussy so wet his huge cock slides in with ease as I sit down, impaling myself on it. Pleasure rockets through me at the sensation of his cock filling me, my tight channel swallowing each delicious inch of his cock. I feel so full, and I want more, more of his violence, more of his filthy words.
“You like this, don’t you? Being my filthy little slut. Taking my cock how I want you to.” When I don’t answer him right away, he thrusts his hips up, and I almost fall forward with the jarring motion.
“Tell me and don’t lie to me, your pussy is so wet I can hear it, feel the slick warmth coating my cock. You can’t hide it...” He thrusts upward again, his cock probing the back of my womb, sending a sliver of both pain and pleasure up my spine.
Gritting his teeth, he says, “I’m going to fuck you, Jessa. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days. You want that, don’t you? To feel me inside you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, my cheeks heating.
“Beg,” he growls into the back of my neck.
“Please… please,” I plead.
“Please what?” His jaw is steel, his hold bruising, the knife at my throat sinks a little deeper into my flesh, and I’m not sure I would care if he slit my throat right now.
“Please, fuck me. Please, fuck me, Declan,” I rasp, my pussy tightening around his shaft. With one hand on my hip and the other holding the blade to my throat, he bucks his hips and I’m thrust upward. I slam back down on his cock with a vengeance, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to stifle the cry that threatens to pass my lips. He does this a few more times, my pussy clenching his length, refusing to let go. I want him. I want him so deep inside me that it’s damn near maddening.
“It’s such a fucking sight. To watch your pretty pussy swallow my cock. You were made for us, for us to use, to take from. Our dirty little slut.”
His words are sinister, and though I’m certain they’re meant to be degrading, they aren’t to me. They make me hot, drenched with need. I want to be his dirty little slut. I want to belong to all three of them in every single way possible.
Pressing my hands against his thighs, I start to bounce up and down on his cock. I sink my nails deep into his flesh, wanting him to feel the same spike of pain and pleasure he makes me feel. He groans behind me, moving the blade away an inch while I bounce up and down on his shaft, proving to me once again that it isn’t pain he wants to inflict on me.
The need to look at him, to see the carnal want in his eyes, overpowers me. I want to see how much he is enjoying this, see if he likes it just as much as I do. I want him to see my need, how his darkness turns me on.
“I want to turn around,” I pant in between bounces. “Please…”
He releases his hold on my hip and drops the knife from my throat, giving me a slap on my upper thigh.
“Turn around then. It’ll make watching you bleed out easier.”
I ignore what he says, but don’t wait for him to change his mind. I stand up, letting his dick slide out of me. I feel lost for the moment that he isn’t inside me. Spinning around I sit back down on his lap. Straddling him, I let his cock slide back inside of me, filling me up. I groan at the sensation, so loud I’m certain Trey and Wes can hear me.
“You want my brothers to hear, don’t you?” His face is so close to my own, his breath fans over my heated cheeks. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I enjoy how hard his muscles feel beneath my fingers. His hand moves back up between us, the knife finding its way back to my throat.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly while grinding shamelessly over his cock. This position has him so deep inside of me I can feel him hitting the end of my channel. Each stroke bruises me from the inside out, leaving me with a twinge of pain in the wake of pleasure.
The blade moves from my throat, skimming down between my breasts. He moves the blade with precision like he knows that with the simple flick of his wrist he could kill me, make me bleed.
Feeling the cold tip flick against my nipple, I shudder…I gaze down at him through thick lashes and watch as he alternates between each breast. The pleasure is intense, and still I wonder what he plans to do with the knife. If he really feels that an eye for an eye is equal?
If he wants to hurt me so badly, then what will happen if he does? Up until now, everything has been an idle threat, but if I force his hand, then maybe he’ll discover that’s not really what he wants. I know I’m playing with fire, because if I’m wrong about this it would most definitely cost me my life.
Doubt plagues me. What if he enjoys it instead? What if he sees me bleed and wants more blood? What if one cut isn’t enough? Fear of the unknown intensifies the pleasure burning through my pussy. I have to trust him, trust my gut that his need for me, will overpower his need for vengeance, for revenge.
Staring into his eyes, looking deeper than I ever have before, I pray that an answer will appear. The first few days with him, I wasn’t able to find any feelings in the depth of his green eyes. Now, I could get lost in the dark pools of emotion reflecting back at me.
“Hurt me…cut my skin…make me bleed,” I say, digging my fingernails into his skin.
Shock flickers in his eyes as I say, “Please, hurt me…”
Chapter Eighteen
Declan
With my cock still deep inside of her, I wrap my fingers around her delicate throat once more. Her pulse throbs beneath my hand, her skin warm, and begging to be marked. She is pleading with me to hurt her, what a stupid girl she is. She shouldn’t test me like this. Offer herself up to me like this. She’s tempting me, but what happens when it’s no longer temptation? What happens when I draw her blood for the first time? I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I catch sight of the crimson leaving her body.
I bring the knife to her stomach, the same spot I took a bullet just a few hours ago. An eye for an eye. My gaze flicks up to hers, those blue eyes of hers shining down on me. There isn’t a lick of fear in those depths when there definitely should be.
/> My eyes roam over her face. She’s so fucking beautiful it should be a crime. Beautiful, and perfect, and fuck I shouldn’t want her as badly as I do, but I can’t stop it and her asking me to do this, to hurt her, it’s only stirred that need inside me.
I grit my teeth, her pussy tightening around my cock and without hesitation as I press the blade into her creamy white skin. A soft gasp escapes her plump lips, and I watch with excitement as the sharp metal digs into her flesh, a drop of blood springs from a shallow gash to run across the blade.
My gaze narrows in on the blade as the blood beads at the tip, anticipating my excitement, I expect it to overcome me…instead a sick feeling starts festering in my gut. I suck in a breath, filling my lungs with as much air as possible, waiting for the satisfaction to wash over me. What the hell? I should feel satisfied beyond measure and yet I don’t. I’m waiting for peace to find me. But it never comes, nothing does. The blood stains her beautiful skin, and for nothing, because I feel nothing, no elation, excitement, no satisfaction and I realize why…. It’s not revenge I want from her.
The knife suddenly feels heavier in my hand and I drop it. It falls down to the bed sheets beside us, landing with a heavy thud.
Looking down at the small cut on her otherwise unblemished skin has me feeling anything but satisfied. Instead, I feel…fuck…I feel guilt.
“Fuck me, Declan,” she moans, grabbing onto my upper arms. She still wants me, after what I just did? How is that possible? I don’t stop to ask questions, instead I push the unwanted guilt away as far as I can and concentrate on nothing but the woman on my lap. I want her, truly want her. Revenge is as far from my mind as it gets right now. Grabbing her slim waist, I force her down onto my cock while thrusting upward at the same time. Her head tips back and a deep moan vibrates through her chest.
Fuck, she’s sealing our fates with each inch of my cock she takes.
My side hurts like fucking hell every time I flex, but I don’t care. I keep fucking her until I feel her pussy start to quiver around my shaft. Our juices gather around my balls, cum, and her arousal coating my body.
“Not yet, Princess. I’ll tell you when to come,” I order and even I notice that my voice has lost its edge. Shaking the thought away I lie back on the mattress. “First, I want you to ride me.”
She places her hands on my lower stomach for support, and even in the lust filled stupor she’s in, she uses caution, making sure she doesn’t come close to my wound. For some reason that matters to me. The fact that she’s caring for me, the fact that she doesn’t want to hurt me, it means something.
Before I can focus on what it might mean she starts moving. She starts out slow, so slow I think she might be trying to punish me. She’s moving her hips, grinding herself over my cock so fucking perfectly, my balls tighten, and I almost come right then.
It’s not long before she picks up speed, her movements becoming erratic, hurried, like she’s chasing her orgasm.
“Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock, make your pussy squeeze me. Suck that sticky hot cum right out of my cock.” I barely finish speaking, the words just passing my lips when I feel her walls squeezing around me, her head falls back and her whole body tightens as she reaches her climax.
Her body trembles as aftershocks ripple through her pussy, pulling my orgasm right out of me. My balls draw together, and I shoot the biggest fucking load of my life inside of her. Warmth floods my body as I continue thrusting, sticky ropes of hot semen coat her cunt, and I swear I could live inside her forever.
She collapses on top of me, her hands on my chest and her head on my shoulder with her face nuzzled into the crook of my neck. Her breath is warm on my skin as I’m wallowing in the aftermath of that mind-blowing orgasm. Sex has always been, well, just sex. It’s never been anything as soul-shattering, all-consuming as this was. I don’t understand the hold she has over my brothers and me.
It’s almost like she’s got a magical pussy or something, either that or she really is that perfect, which is just in-fucking-sane.
When my endorphin flooded brain finally regains control and I’m able to form a coherent thought I know that this can’t really be happening. She can’t be cuddling into my chest, sleeping in my bed with me like this, like we’re a fucking couple or something. She doesn’t want this. How could she? I just drew her blood. My brothers and I kidnapped her, hurt her, violated her and yet here she is clutching onto me like I’m her favorite blanket or something.
I wrap my fingers around her slender arms and pull her off of me. My touch is gentle, which surprises me. Seeing her blood, watching it coat the blade of that knife. It changed everything. It changed me.
“No,” she whimpers, and then a moment later says, “Please…I need this too.”
Need this?
She tilts her head to the side so she can look at my face. Her cheeks are a soft pink, her eyes sleepy. She must see the confusion in my expression because her mouth opens again.
“I want you…I want you to hold me. I want…all of you. In every way I can have you. I want to be yours, theirs.”
“You don’t know what you are saying,” I tell her, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I do know what I’m saying, and I know what I want…I want you.”
“How could you possibly want us?” She must be having a post-orgasmic high. She’s probably confused.
“I’ve never…my father never cared about me. No one's ever cared about me. I’ve been alone my whole life. I don’t even have friends. I want to be yours. I want to belong to you, all of you.”
An ache forms in my chest, my stupid fucking heart pounding like crazy in my chest. Her words are dripping with pain. And I know that she means every word she says. Fuck, that only makes me want to kill her father more. What a fucking asshole. What a piece of shit. God, I can’t wait to end his fucking pitiful life. If anyone deserves death, it’s him.
I let her sink back down on top of me and wrap my arms around her small frame. For the first time since we took her, I worry if she’s okay. Is she eating enough? Surely Wes and Trey have been caring for her. I grind my teeth together. I shouldn’t care, but I do, because I truly do care. Her body molds into mine like it belongs here and nowhere else.
“Don’t go to sleep yet, you need to take your antibiotic,” I whisper into her hair. She smells like sweat, sex, and a lingering of strawberries.
“Okay.” Her voice is small, and sleep already clings to it. I roll her off of me and place her down on the mattress. Then I grab a blanket and cover her with it. Her eyes drift closed once more, and I know she’s barely awake. I want to tell her I’m sorry but I bite my tongue. I’m not ready yet. I don’t want her to know that I’m weak for her. Before, I was unsure of where she stood in mine and my brothers’ futures, but now, I know where she belongs.
“I’ll get it for you,” I tell her as I pull on a pair of shorts and slip out of the room. As soon as I enter the hallway, I can feel that the air has shifted.
“What did you do?” Trey almost yells at me, his eyes narrowing on me as I walk into the living room. I damn near roll my eyes. If anyone is overly protective of her, it’s Trey. He’s wanted her since the start, but one taste was all he needed to know she was it for him.
“Calm down. I didn’t kill her, nor do I plan to. I’m just getting her meds,” I respond. Picking up my jacket I take out the pill bottle from the inside pocket I had it hidden in. I make a pit stop in the kitchen and pour a glass of orange juice for her to take it with before returning to the bedroom. She needs to regain her strength before we mess with her anymore. I don’t want her health failing any more than it already has.
When I slip back into the bedroom, I find that she is already asleep. With a light shake of her shoulders, her big eyes open again. I hand her the pill and the glass of orange juice and watch her drink almost the whole thing before placing it down on the nightstand.
“Sleep. I need to talk with my brothers about what is to happen next. As
it turns out, I think I want to keep you around after all.” A smile briefly paints her lips before her head falls back down onto the pillow and her eyes drift closed.
I lean down, and despite my wound screaming at me, I press a soft kiss to her forehead. I don’t understand why I kissed her, or even more so why I want to do it again. I want to taste her lips, devour her. The feelings are still virgin and hard to grasp onto.
I quietly exit the room and walk back out into the living room where I take a seat on the couch. Wes and Trey are already waiting there for me as if they expected me to come back out.
“I want to keep her,” I say, starting off the conversation. I’m sure they were expecting something different to come out of my mouth.
“No shit, welcome to the team. We had T-shirts made,” Trey snickers sarcastically.
“Took you long enough,” Wes gives Trey a look that says don’t push it. “What finally changed your mind?”
“I’ve realized that my revenge wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for her father and no one else. She is not like him, she is just another one of his victims. He needs to die, he needs to pay for the pain he’s caused, to us, to Jessa.”
I think about what she told me. How no one ever loved her or cared for her. It makes sense now. Her father never really wanted her, not as a father should want or care for his daughter. She was more of an asset than anything else.
“I don’t know that she’s going to be okay with us killing her father. I worry she still might not believe us,” Trey admits wearily.
I shake my head, “I think we tell Jessa the truth. The whole truth. We let her watch the video of what he did to our…” I swallow. “To our sister, mother, to our father. We show her that, and then we tell her what really happened to her mother.”