“You keep looking at me like that, Little Bird, and I’m gonna forget what I came here to do.” The deep timbre of his voice caresses my sore and broken body, swirling around my sex and making me ache in delicious ways that, over the past few years, I have almost forgotten.
Unable to resist any longer, my eyes swing up to his firm chin, covered in a light stubble of dark brown. My lips tingle as I trace his full mouth, which is pulled up in a sexy as fuck half smile. Moving on, I take in his ever-so-slightly crooked nose until I reach his eyes and stop dead.
Bright hazel orbs stare back at me, full of a raging heat that burns me in the best way. Not like when those other pigs actually burned me. That sucked big, hairy, donkey balls. The slowly healing blisters on my lower back twinge, the scent of burning flesh filling my nose for a moment. Shaking the memory from my head, I move past his captivating eyes to see a dirty-blond mop of hair. It's styled to look like he just rolled out of bed, shaved close on the sides and long on the top. It’s also long enough to enable a good grip whilst I fuck his face.
Maybe this could work in my favor after all. Perhaps help me out of here and give my south mouth something yummy to feast on...
“Shit,” he curses, and I go back to look into his eyes again, the lines around them suggesting that he's older than I am, maybe in his early thirties–hello Daddy. I give him my best sultry bedroom smile. I'm glad that yesterday was a waterboarding day so I’m sort of fresh.
“Oh, I’m not into poo play I’m afraid, but I’d let you do pretty much anything else to me, Big Daddy,” I tell him, my voice all kinds of croaky from all the screaming that I’ve been doing the past couple of weeks, but I’m thinking it adds a new sexiness to it. Fuck, it’d make a fortune on the phones.
I smirk when his nostrils flare and his fists clench at his sides as his delicious body thrums with tension. He’s younger than the others who usually come to get me, and he’s fine as fuck, a tall glass of water in a dry as a nun’s cunt desert.
“Are you playing with me today, big boy?” I ask, using the wall to pull myself up to standing. I wince when my nailless fingers scrape on the rough surface, the pain making my jaw clench. That shit does not heal fast, I can tell you. My legs threaten to give out as I’ve not eaten in a while, and when they give me food, it’s mostly scraps and vegetable peelings.
On wobbling legs, I make my way towards him, feeling the scabs on my back split open and warm blood dripping down my bare back. That whipping was not fun. He stands stock-still, watching my naked form with hunger in his gaze. I learnt from an early age how to use my body on men to my advantage, so I sway my hips as much as my wounds allow. He doesn't move when I reach him, my hand darting out as a wave of dizziness washes over me, the dark room tilting.
“Steady now, Little Bird. They did a number on you, huh?” he asks in that pussy-clenching voice of his before wrapping powerful hands around my own tiny biceps to help hold me up. It’s strange, but the way he asks, I could swear there’s a slightinflection of anger in his tone. I must be imagining it. He is withthem,after all.
No mind, they'll all pay, eventually.
His face swims back into view, and there are slight lines around his eyes, the heat gone, replaced with something that looks almost like concern.
That's bullshit, Lark. These psychos don't feel normal emotions.
“Not a fan of their work?” I question, leaning into him just because he smells so good. Like a cat does with catnip, I want to roll around in his scent of cloves and petrol and get drunk off it. “Personally, I think it lacks finesse and imagination, you know, that je ne sais quoi that sets it above normal, boring torture. No originality.”
A deep laugh rocks his chest and my body follows the movement as I’m now practically draped over him.
“They didn’t tell us you were so funny, Little Bird,” he murmurs in my ear, not protesting as my head drops to that space between his neck and shoulder and I take a deep sniff like the weirdo I am. What? I've got to get my kicks somewhere in this hellhole.
“They just don’t understand me, Daddy, not like you do,” I tell him in a sensual, fractured whisper as I nuzzle closer to him. It's like my body has taken over, my arms lifting to wrap around his thick neck. I hiss as more scabs splinter open on my back, blood dripping down and tickling the healing wounds.
“Fuck, baby. They tore you up good,” he growls, again that thread of anger lacing his tone when he glances over my shoulder at my back. He's taller than my five-foot-six frame by almost another foot, if I had to guess.
A moan escapes my lips when his fingers ghost over my torn-up back, and I push closer into him, groaning again when I feel something hard press into my pelvis. Dammit, he’s too tall forme to get that hardness where I really want it. I go up on tiptoes, just managing to rub my clit on his jeans-clad length, eliciting a deep sexual sound from his throat that caresses my naked skin.
“You like that, Little Bird?” he asks, pressing a finger into an open wound on my back. His other hand comes between us and pushes down onto the tight bud at the apex of my thighs. Sharp fire races across my skin to meet the flare of pleasure flowing from my core.
“Yes, fuck yes, Daddy. That feels so fucking good,” I reply in a husky, sultry voice, filled with a longing that I rarely feel when I’m with one of the Soldiers. My father’s men do not inspire feelings of desire, and I find my stomach feeling heavy with the anticipation of dread that never materializes. I want him badly, and that might be the most surprising thing that has happened to me since my capture. I shamelessly grind against his hand, electric pulses zinging over my skin at the heady mix of pleasure and pain. “Please, Daddy, I need you inside me so fucking bad.”
I give no shits that I'm pleading with this god-like man, one of my supposed enemies. I'm suddenly burning with a need that only he can ease.
My arms leave his neck, shakily coming down to his belt buckle and undoing it, the clanking sound loud in the room. He doesn’t stop me, just holds completely still, and I pause, my gaze flitting upwards to see if he wants this. I might be willing to use him, but I’d never do anything that he didn’t want. I know the feeling of being forced all too well. Seeing his hooded gaze on my peaked nipples and his tongue coming out to lick his plush lips has my fingers popping open the top couple of buttons on his jeans, a breath hissing out of me at the slight pain from my missing fingernails. I pull his hard length out and my knees almost give way at how silky he feels in my palm. At how big he is, and how delicious his cock looks.
“Little Bird…” he groans when I wrap my fingers around his length and pump my hand up and down, relishing the piercing pain of his fingers digging into my ripped-up back. “Fuck it.”
In the next moment, both of his hands are under my thighs and are hoisting me up so that I have to wrap my legs around his waist. My own arms come back up, hands grasping his shoulders as I steady myself. A keen leaves my lips when he slams me up against the wall next to the door, the pain from my back ricocheting across my entire body and leaving me dizzy.
He pins my body against the wall, as one hand leaves my leg, and I look down to see him lining himself up with my entrance. I’m not quite wet enough, but my eyes roll as he forces his way inside me, inch by thick inch, the burn fucking exquisite. His hand returns to hold me under my thigh, squeezing as he pushes inside me.
“Shit, Little Bird,” he rasps out, pushing the last part of his length inside me until our bodies are flush. “Your pussy feels like fucking heaven.”
“Less talk, more action, Daddy,” I tease him, voice breathless with just how incredible he feels. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, the mix of sharp pain from my back and the pleasure of his cock sheathed inside my aching pussy a heady feeling.
It’s fucked up. His people—the Tailors—have tortured me for fuck knows how long. I’m broken physically and mentally into small, shattered pieces, lying in a dungeon with a stained mattress on the floor and a bucket to piss in, but this guy, whatever his name is, makes me feel more alive than I have in a long time. Even before I came here.
“You giving me orders now, Little Bird?” he questions, his voice deep and gravelly as he holds still inside me. My pussy walls flutter round him like a moth to a goddamn flame. “Maybe I should leave you now, cunt aching for me to fill it again.”
