I stare at her unspeakingly. No words would ever matter to her. No matter how loud I scream, no matter how much I beg she would choose to ignore me.
I stuff my hands into my pocket and remember the sharp knife I stole from the school's cafeteria. Its edges are jagged and the tip is dull but it will work. It has to.
She drags me over to my bed and pushes me to sit down. She then straddles herself across my waist, her breasts pushing into my face.
I don’t want to do it, I really don’t. I love my mother; I don’t want to see her hurt, I don't want to face the reality that she has never loved me as her child.
But I do it anyway, because I deserve to be set free from her cruelty. This isn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t have been her last. No matter how often she told me it would after each time she did it.
Shelied.
Book made for [email protected]
DAY ONE
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ember
“Every word she wanted to spit at him became muffled by moans.”
My face feels heavy as I turn over in bed. Why do I feel like absolute shit? My eyes flutter against the strange red lights and I lean up to collect myself.
When my vision clears, I huff. Why am I still here? The memories of last night begin to dawn on me and I look around the room for Ronan. He sits on the chair in the corner. The mask off and his head thrown back against the wall, soft snores leave him and I shudder.
Why did god have to be so nice to him, even asleep he looks fucking hot. His plump lips are slightly open and his hair is brushed away from in front of his face. I honestly thought he had a big ass forehead because he wears his hair over his eyes but he doesn’t. His features are sharp all around, including his chiseled body.
I get up and walk over to him to get a closer look. I lean against the chair's armrest and softly push back a few of the strands that had fallen.
Small freckles dot his nose but stop there. His nose is slightly crooked like he had broken it before and both nostrils are dotted with double nose piercings. His lips are just as covered in piercings—two rings come out of his mouth and over his bottom lip. In his ear are dangled crosses. Hmm, so he’s religious.
I reach up to touch his lip piercing but he catches my hand and twists it behind my back. Before I can stop him I’m already laying on the floor, stomach down, with him behind me. His erection pushes against my ass and his face hovers right beside mine.
“Little Devil.” He hums. “Did your parents not teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”
I struggle beneath him, trying to get free. My elbow pops in this uncomfortable position and I breathe out in pain.
“Did you ever learn how to treat woman with respect, you fucking ass?” I hiss and buckle below him.
He tsks and pulls my arm back tighter. I groan and try to lift myself up with my other arm but it's no use, his heavy weight keeps me pinned to the ground.
“You should learn to stop cursing and then maybe I’ll learn to respect you.” I roll my eyes at his answer but don’t respond.
Maybe if I stay silent he’ll let me go and when he does I’m going to kick his ass. He rubs himself against me, his erection pokes against the fabric right at my center, making me squirm below him.
“Count to ten and I might let you go.” I turn to him the best I can. He smirks down at me enjoying this little game of his.
“Seriously? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He lifts me up higher. My arm now bends behind me painfully and half of my body hovers above the floor.
The feel of the pain and the way he feels as he dry humps me should turn me off but I moan—my lips sealing shut just as fast as they open.
“Come on, Little Devil. Count to ten for me.” His breath fans my cheeks as he whispers and goosebumps spike across my neck. I close my eyes in embarrassment and begin to count.
“1.”Thrust.“2.”Thrust. “3.”Thrust.
Each time a number leaves my lips the harder he rubs his cock against my core. I can feel my release building. It's like being at the edge of a waterfall and not getting enough traction to fall off. Each wave pulls me further out, so close yet so far.
At number ten I don’t want it to end. I stumble over my words and my body begins to quiver. This should be humiliating but he’s a stranger and he doesn’t know anything about me. It’s not like he’s the type of guy to go talking about what he does behind closed doors. I whimper and push myself into him, but his grip remains taut around my arm—keeping me at a certain distance. He waits patiently behind me, softly grazing himself over me but nothing more.
