by Anna Santos
She had no such luck.
“Why Beth?” He asked huskily, next to her ear, overshadowing her body and placing his hands on her hips. Beth shivered and protested when she felt his torso leaning closer to her wounded back. “Why did you do this to me?”
What? It was the question that raced through her tired mind. What was he asking? Was he crazy? Why bother to answer that question? Time after time, he proved that he was perverted, evil, and mad.
He kept talking, “If it had been someone else, I would have killed them in a heartbeat. But it was you. And I can’t kill you. I need you. So tell me why you did this.”
He smelled her hair, nuzzled his nose against her cheek, and waited for her to answer him. She said nothing. He pressed his cheek against hers, closing his eyes. His hands slowly pulled her skirt up showing her legs. She whimpered, reacting to the fear of what he was going to do. She was vulnerable and he was a sadist.
“Don’t ignore me!” He yelled. “You’ve been ignoring me this entire day. Beating you isn’t working. And I…don’t want to see you suffering any longer.”
She opened her eyes, confused by his words.
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore. Beth, please talk to me.”
She shook her head and kept her mouth firmly closed. He growled, hugging her by the waist, against him. She shrieked in pain, her wounds burning against the buttons and the fabric of his coat.
“I want to fuck you right here. You make my blood pump so fast. You have no idea how bad I want you,” he mumbled, using one hand to caress her thighs, slowly making its way to the middle of her legs. “How long has it been since we fucked?”
“Please,” she gasped, terrified. “Please don’t do this.”
“So you do speak,” he mocked. “Does this remind you of the things I did to you when we first met?”
The darkness in his voice terrified her even more. She wanted to cry but she had no more tears left. She just whimpered, panicking, trying to forget the days of rape and torture that he was talking about. They weren’t pleasant memories. He was a sick and twisted bastard. She wanted him gone. She wanted him dead.
“I hurt you back then,” he hissed, breathless, playing with his fingers against her panties and getting even more aroused by her whimpering. “You feel hot in here. Didn’t Vincent give you the proper attention?”
“Please stop,” she begged, her voice hoarse from screaming in pain. She moved her body to escape his hand. He grounded her closer, and she felt his aroused member against her butt.
All she could hear was her crying, the rest was deathly silenced. They didn’t want Alaric to give them attention or that he would even remember that they were there.
“Stop fighting, it’s pointless,” he ordered against her cheek, licking it and smiling when his fingers slipped inside her panties. “Be nice, Beth. I’m going to pleasure you with foreplay. I know you like it when I do this.”
“I don’t!” Beth denied promptly, livid by his words.
The twisted bastard thought that her body liked his touch. It didn’t. She despised him. She hated him with all her heart, but she was unable to prevent the involuntary physical reactions that he would get from her. He thought that it would make her fall in love with him.
“Your body does,” he teased, trailing kisses on her neck and running his fingers inside her pussy, making her spread her legs. “I’ve missed tasting you,” he shared, making her sick to her stomach. She wanted to throw up, but she had nothing inside. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you again. But Beth, I can’t take my hands off of you. And I’m not hurting you. For once, please, stop fighting me. You know that I can make you feel good.”
“Leave me the fuck alone,” she yelled, irate, moving her body so he stopped touching her. It was torture enough when he raped her without any type of regret or care, it was even worse when he started to rape her while taking his time to make her climax. It wasn’t an enjoyable orgasm. She didn’t want to have one with him. She hated him, but her body felt differently when he touched her with tenderness and he took his time to make her come. Alaric found a new way to torture her, taking his pleasure in the fact that she would blame herself for having orgasms because of him. He had told her that he would make her like having sex with him. And he was true to his words. At least, in his mind, he thought that making her climax was the same as making her enjoy having sex with him.
“It hurts,” she gasped, trying to ignore the movement of his fingers.
“What hurts?” He asked, voice laced with yearning.
“My hands, my back,” she sighed in pain. “It hurts,” she sobbed.
“Tell me why you killed Vincent and I’ll take you upstairs again.”
“You know why,” she cried. Her body quivered, chasing away any unwanted pleasure that he could give her.
“Fuck! Why can’t I make you wet?” He asked, annoyed, moving his fingers away and caressing his protuberance against her. Then, with a finger, he pulled on her panties and shred them. Beth cried, even more, dreading what he was going to do next, incapable of escaping.
Alaric bent down and stared at her naked figure. He growled, shuddering with anticipation.
“It’s been how long, Beth? One month, two weeks since we fucked?” He asked, aware of the last time he got her alone and made her his. She had protested, she had cried, and she had tried to get away from him. He had to fight her and take her by force. But it was worth it just to see the shock on her face when he made her come. After several orgasms, she was tamed and quiet as a mouse. He didn’t know why she had to fight with him every time. He’d rather have her willingly. He dreamt of the day that she would ask him to fuck her. But he couldn’t deny that he liked to fight her and force her to submit to his will. He liked when she begged for him to stop. But if he was taking his time to please her, the least she could do was to be obedient and try to please him back.
“Tell me the truth, you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”
“I have not,” she blurted, finding the courage to stand up to him. “I hate you.”
“You don’t,” he declared. “You are just too proud to admit that you want me.”
Finding the last of her strength, she yelled, “Fuck you! I hate you. I would rather jump off a cliff than fuck you or beg you for it.”
“Are you trying to upset me, Beth?” He asked with a deadly calm in his voice. He parted her legs with his knee and opened his hands over her breasts. “I thought we already had this conversation. I’m your master, and I’ll do what I want to your body. I want to fuck you, so I will and you’ll beg me for it,” he said, raising his voice menacingly.
“I’d rather die. Just kill me already,” she snarled, sick of his twisted behavior, sick of him, tired of living in fear, and loathing herself because of him.
“I love you too much to kill you,” he whispered, sighing deeply and placing his hand over her pussy, groping and playing with his fingers. “And you love me, that’s why you killed Vincent. So we could be together.”
“You are crazy,” she muttered as her body stiffened because of his reasoning.
“I should have never given you to him. I shouldn’t have listened to your sister. I wanted you for myself. And you just love me, you didn’t love him. He was an idiot and I didn’t want him to touch you anymore. You didn’t love him, did you?”
“Please stop,” she begged as her head spun and she kept trying to evade his fingers that were hurting her.
“Stop teasing me! I’m trying to have a conversation with you. I’m opening up my heart to you,” he complained.
Beth was in no mood to play his game and follow his twisted words. She was in no mood to pretend to care and calm him down. So, she said nothing.
“Fucking whore, answer me!” He growled, grabbing her by the neck and squeezing it until she couldn’t breathe and she was suffocating.
Yet, she didn’t try to fight him. She wanted him to kill her. If she died, even if momentarily, she wouldn’t have to endure
his presence and his repulsive appetite for raping her.
She didn’t die. He stopped before she could embrace the darkness. He hugged her, breathing fast against her neck, emitting some sort of sobbing. It puzzled Beth, but she wasn’t that interested in asking him if he was crying. She was hurting, he was molesting her, and the last thing she needed was to have a crying psychopath hugging her.
“She called me,” he whispered. Beth had no idea of what he was talking about. “She said I killed her. She thinks it was my fault,” he whimpered, grabbing her harder. She shrieked in pain. “You are the only one who understands me.”
Beth wanted to slap and kick him for his pretentious words. She didn’t understand him. She hated him. She pretended to understand so he wouldn’t hurt her and her sister.
“Let me loose,” she requested, barely able to speak. Her throat hurt because of him.
“No,” he denied, his voice with the edge of childish stubbornness in it.
“Why not?” She asked patiently, trying to honey her voice to please him.
“Because you’ll run away from me, and I need you right now.”
Just her damn luck. He needed her, like a cat needed a mouse to play with when it was bored.
“But I’m tired and it hurts,” she whispered, revealing the true pain that she was feeling. “Please…master,” she begged while thinking of every single way she could kill him if she was free. She could smack his head against the wall. She could try to snap his neck. It was a temporary death, not like the one she had given Vincent when she had cut off his head. But she couldn’t kill Alaric. She had dreamed of it, she had plotted a million and one plans to kill him, but killing him meant she would kill her sister. And now that there was another factor in the equation, she couldn’t kill him even if she was beginning to understand that her sister was becoming as twisted as her soul-mate.
“Then tell me why you killed Vincent,” he demanded, caressing her neck with his lips. “Tell me, Beth, so we can be together.”
“You are hurting me,” she complained because he was rubbing himself against her, gripping her flesh too hard.
“Don’t lie,” he ordered darkly, grabbing her face and turning it to watch him. He plastered his lips against hers, roughly and uncaring. He tried to slip his tongue inside her mouth while she tried to free her face and escape his mouth. She screamed when two of his fingers invaded her sex and his tongue slipped in. Her screams were muffled by his mouth. “It’s your fault if I hurt you,” he said, releasing her face so his hand could unbuckle his belt.
“No, no,” she begged, listening to the belt coming off. She knew what was going to happen next. He had done it to her too many times. “Please, I’ll do anything you want,” she declared, feeling the leather around her neck. Alaric pulled it tight, choking Beth. She fought for releasing her hands, she fought for air, and she fought to be able to verbalize words. Everything was pointless.
“Relax,” he whispered sinisterly in her ear. “There is no fun in fucking a corpse,” he declared, making her close her eyes and curse her life. Why was she fighting for survival anyway? It was better for her to lose conscience.
It was instinct. She wanted to die but she always found herself fighting for survival. However, there wasn’t anything left for her in the world. She had no reasons to keep living.
Alaric always knew when to stop before killing her, but even if he had stopped the choking, Beth wasn’t reacting. Normally, she would fight him harder.
It annoyed him. “Come on Beth, don’t sulk now. Play with me,” he begged, freeing his pants and stroking his staff against her butt.
No reply and no complaint, but he could hear her heartbeat. He snarled annoyed against her neck, making the decision of biting his wrist and place it against Beth’s mouth. She reacted immediately, opening her eyes wide and receiving all his trouble thoughts inside her own mind. His blood healed her body but sickened her mind. One thing was for sure, he had found the witch and things were going to get dangerous for the girl. There was another negative consequence of drinking his blood, her body was flooded by the raw lust he was feeling for her.
“You feel so wet now,” he whispered, pleased.
Her hips moved involuntarily under his fingers. She sobbed when he nibbled her neck, replacing his finger for his cock inside of her as he pushed it deep and made her quiver with a wave of involuntary pleasure. He wasn’t gentle, he pumped inside her, using his hands to move her up and down on him. Growling like an animal in heat. She kept crying, numbing her thoughts, concentrating on the information that his blood gave her about the witch and his plans to trick her.
“I can’t hold it any longer,” he declared, moving faster and making her insides burn deeper.
Beth calmed herself, ignoring the burning sensation inside of her. She wasn’t going to give in this time.
Soon enough, he climaxed, letting his cock jolt inside her core. “You always feel so damn good.”
Beth ignored him.
“But I liked it better the other night when you were milking me inside you with your spasms of pleasure. Do you remember that?”
Beth wished she didn’t.
“Do you want me to make you feel like that again?” He didn’t wait for her to speak. He placed kisses on the back of her neck, caressing her back and placing his hand on her butt. “I can be really good to you, Beth. Stop fighting me. You know I love you. We will be together. I’ve found the witch and, soon enough, she will bound my soul to yours so we can be together. You’ll be happy like that. I’ll make you happy. You will love me.”
Beth sobbed harder. She didn’t want that. She wanted her own mate, not Alaric. The worst that could happen was if he forced her to love him with a binding spell.
“Marie, you and I, the three of us together.”
Widening her eyes as she choked on her sobs, she asked, “What?”
“I know that you don’t want her to die. I know that I said that it would be just you and me, then I realized that I really don’t need to choose, both of you could be mine. Especially now,” he whispered in her ear, caressing her arms and while lifting her up to softening the weight of her body. He pulled her up further and released her from the handcuffs. She collapsed, being held in his arms before she could hit the ground. “Do you like my idea?”
“I don’t understand,” Beth whispered. She truly didn’t. Her body and mind were exhausted. “You said you would kill me.”
“Myra told me everything. You didn’t want to tell me what happened, but she did,” he said, sitting down with her in his arms. She panicked, refusing the kisses he wanted to give her. “Stop,” he ordered, grabbing her face and smashing his lips against hers. “Hush,” he hissed, placing small kisses on her face. “Hush. You should have told me. Mates don’t keep secrets from one another.”
“You aren’t my mate,” she said, trying to be stern with her tone of voice.
“You will be. Then, you will stop fighting me and you will like all my kisses and you will beg me to make love to you.”
“I would rather kill myself.”
He chuckled. “I’ll miss this. But you won’t kill yourself. And we will have plenty of time after the spell to bond. You won’t be able to live without me, as your sister can’t live without me. You would not kill yourself. You killed Vincent to protect Marie and the baby. You can’t kill yourself if that means that you will kill her and the baby. And you love the baby, don’t you? The little baby that is inside your sister’s womb.”
Beth was staring at him with a puzzled look in her eyes. He was twisted but too smart for her own good. He was right. She would never kill herself if it meant that she could kill the baby.
“Vincent was planning to betray me. Kill my wife and make you his soul-mate. But you love me not him. You killed him to protect me.”
“Not you, the baby,” Beth protested.
“I can give you a baby too, after the spell. I can give you one. Do you want one? We will be a happy family.”
“You said you didn’t want the baby,” Beth reminded him. “That you were going to kill him,” she sobbed, remembering his evil words and threats when he had found out about Marie’s pregnancy.
Beth kept looking in his eyes, they were green without a trace of the monster, yet the creep had raped her and was torturing her, convinced that she loved and wanted him. She didn’t know what else she could say or do to make him understand that he was mad.
“You begged me to reconsider,” he reminded her.
“And you said that you didn’t want a son.”
“It wasn’t yours,” he explained. She closed her eyes momentarily so she wouldn’t lose her patience and scream at him. “I’ll give you one. Those stupid science tests that Vincent made you endure will end. We can have a baby after the bond is created. Would that make you happy?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, nausea taking over her.
“Does it still hurt?” He asked, soft voice as if he actually cared.
“What do you care if it hurts or not?” She snapped at him, annoyed by his behavior.
“Of course, I care. I love you,” he claimed, hugging her closer and making her shiver in fear. Displays of affection were rare and confusing coming from Alaric. If anything, it just made her even more afraid of what he could do next. “You are the only one that understands me.”
She quivered, thinking of a way to kill him so she could stop listening to his twisted speech. He mistook her quivering body for lust from his touch. He trailed kisses on her face, looking for her mouth, tasting the dried blood and the salty tears. “I’ll take you upstairs to your bedroom. I’ll wash you and take good care of you. Would you like that?”
“I’m tired,” she answered, hoping that he would change his mind and leave her alone.
“I know, but I don’t want to be alone. I’ll be good. I promise,” he said, getting up with her in his arms, bridal style, and leaving the holding cell.
Beth sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t accept no for an answer. She had to let him do whatever he wanted and stay quiet and pretend. She had to pretend. At least, until she could think of a plan to get away from him and prevent him from using the witch to bond her soul to his.