“You want me to take you, don’t you? Want me to make you beg? Make you cry?”I do. God, I do.
My breath comes in ragged gasps, the hot water beating down on my back. I can see her kneeling in front of me, her eyes locked on mine, as she takes me into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip like she did against my hand, teasing me until I can’t take it anymore.
“Catarina.” Her name spills from my lips in a moan.
My hand moves faster, rougher, the pressure building with every stroke. I’m so close, so fucking close, and she’s all I can see, all I can feel. Every muscle in my body tenses, and my thighs tremble as my release spills against my hand, dripping to the shower floor. My hand pumps over and over, drawing out every last bit of pleasure dripping out of me. Even though my tip feels raw with sensitivity, I keep my strokes consistent until I’m empty.
The water starts to wash it away, but I can’t resist. I bring my fingers to my lips, parting them as I insert my pointer and middle, sucking them clean.
I look down, hoping the next time I’m covered in cum that it won’t be mine.
After showering and changing, I get all of my things together and make my way to the elevator knowing that Harold is probably already waiting on me. I lean my head against the cold wall after I press F1, sending me down. I know I won’t give them any information. As far as I’m concerned, Rylan isn’t in Asheville anymore. He should be allowed to keep his normalcy. I don’t know him, and I don’t want to. The less I’m involved with anything Fenris has to do with, the better.
I spot Harold outside and step out from under the awning. I feel the raindrops sinking into the fabric of my clothes as the drizzle makes its way down. He unlocks the doors, and I lay my bag inside on the backseat before sliding the door and getting into the passenger side. Harold pulls away without saying a word. I lean my head against the headrest, letting my eyes close, and soak in my last little bit of peace before I’m back home, in hell.
Chapter Eleven
Catarina
Ilook at the calendar passing the pantry, noticing Zedediah should return today—or is it tomorrow? The days melt together now. Either way, I have mixed feelings about seeing him. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that he didn’t want to hurt me, but he did, and until I see him again I don’t think I’ll be able to dull the gnawing questions that rack my brain. I remember Fenris saying he would only be gone a week.
A quick outreach trip for the lost souls close to home. I roll my eyes, remembering when missionaries like Fenris would visit Crossroads. I always found it to be kind of evil and think back to my conversation with Dad.
“So, if those who are never told the gospel go to heaven because they can’t be faulted for what they don’t know, aren’t you damning them to hell? Going to places with their own beliefs and traditions? You’re taking away the ability for them to go straight to heaven? Why would we do that?”
“I am so over you twisting the lord’s word to fit whatever narrative you think you need an answer to this week.”
“So no answer then?”
“God tells us to go forth, spread his word, his love?—”
Laughing, I cut him off. “His love? That’s love to you?”
I continue roaming the halls, looking for the woman whose name I still don’t know. I need to ask her for some shampoo and soap because I can’t deal with the memories mine bring. After showering this morning, I tossed it under the sink. I don’t want the scent to interrupt my days anymore.
Suddenly, my feet feel like they’ve been cemented to the floor when I see the driver, who I now know to be Brady, round the corner. “Kitty Cat, just who I was looking for.”
The muscles in my shoulders tense up at his words; what is with the pet name? “I’m sorry, what? Are you trying to use Kitty Cat as a way to get under my skin? I’m not the one panting like a stray from a short walk down the hallway.”
He grabs my arm. “Fenris wants to see you.” I attempt to pull away, but his fingers squeeze harder, not allowing me to break free.
“I can walk on my own.” My tone is sharp. He turns to me, his eyes trailing up and down my body like he’s taking inventory.
His fingers leave my arm, and I hear him whisper under his breath, “We’re going to have so much fun with you.” I plant my feet to the ground when he continues walking. He’s almost reached the end when he notices I’m not behind him, and he turns around, gritting his words at me. “Come here.”
His pudgy pointer finger is directed toward the ground. “Now.”
Rage boils over and I take a single step toward him. “Point at me like I’m a dog again, Brady, and I swear to whatever god you pray to, that I’ll bite you like one.”
He nods to someone behind me. I don’t even have a moment to work through the confusion before I’m grabbed from behind. Large arms cage me in, holding me tight to their front. I thrash and kick, and they loosen their hold to bring their arm up towardmy throat like they’re trying to keep me from screaming. The fabric of my shirt rides up, and I feel a vibration ripple through me as my foot connects with their shin.
“You bitch!” they spit at me. Their forearm is closer to my mouth now, and I feel their grip start to tighten. I’m able to tuck my chin just enough to open my mouth around as much flesh as possible and bite. They attempt to drop me from their hold but I refuse to fall to the floor. I catch my footing and hold onto their skin like a rabid wolf. I don’t pull away until I hear a pop and my mouth fills with the warm, salty, metallic rush of blood. “Ow!” the person behind me cries. If they didn’t want to be bitten, they wouldn’t have placed their arm so close to my mouth. Plus, they flung their arm around, making it easier for the flesh to rip. I spin and face a tall man with sandy-blonde hair, who is actively keeping pressure on his wound.
I feel blood dripping down my chin, and I’m certain I look like a maniac. “This bitch bit me! You’re fucking insane!”
I smile. Secretly hoping blood is covering my teeth before I grit out at him, “If suffering brings you closer to god, then let me be the one who delivers you to them.” I slap my hands together, shaking them toward the ceiling.
“Shit,” I curse, suddenly hearing footsteps behind me. They’re clanky and sloppy, surely coming from Brady, causing me to take off down the hall.
