He swallows her scream with his violent kiss. Her hands still don’t move. And after three more thrusts, he pauses above her swollen lips to say, “For you.”
59
Briella
I DIDN’T NEED A HERO. I DIDN’T NEED A SAVIOR. I NEEDED THE VILLAIN.
Citizen Soldier Playlist
“Face to Face”
“The Devil Inside”
“Cannibal”
“Six Feet Under” - Smash Into Pieces feat Citizen Soldier
“Sacred”
“Without You”
He shakes me down to my core.
Raphael gives me fragmented pieces of his soul. I take the burning pain that comes with them.
“Oh, God!” I sob from the pressure, the smoldering stretch of his cock inside my ass. Like fire and ice. Especially with his piercing.
My mind can’t help but relive that time in the dungeon when Rory put his monster inside me, ripping me open till I bled. Raphael is not like him. Seven or eight inches, but he’s thick, and the way he does it seems even worse.
Like he’s punishing me. But he slows.
“We don’t speak his name. It doesn’t deserve any form of resurrection, Briella.” He drags his mouth along my cheek,tenderly biting my lower lip. “Before that night, it was whippings. Public ones. Because I was the only one who challenged him. He made it his mission to try to break me. But you can’t break what is already broken and hollow. I don’t know how many other kids he tortured before I arrived.”
Every word feels like a razor blade slicing me open. Not just bleeding me, but carving its way to my heart.
Raphael comes out again, pours more oil on himself, then impales me on his length. I choke on my breath this time. But his mouth moves lower, trailing along the curve of my throat.
“The whippings sated the beast for a time. He always found new ways to rip open the skin and make it worse.”
Hands shaking, I slowly try to move them around his back. He pounds me hard. But he doesn’t tell me to stop, so I keep going. My fingers trace all the scar tissue along his back. Old and newer. The self-flagellation in that dungeon, the blood and flesh I laid in…
“But that night,” He stops inside me, presses a kiss to my heartbeat, and continues, “I stayed in your room, watching you from the shadows, waiting.”
“Waiting…” I bring one hand back. I place my palm against his heart. It’s thundering in his chest. “Why?”
He looks up, gaze blacker than ever. “Because…I knew he was coming. For you.”
“No, please, God, no.”
He takes my mouth again, hot, strong, sharp, keeping me in the moment, keeping me from breaking down in his own way.
“Saw the way he fucking watched you. Made me sick. Up here.” He taps his forehead. “I may have no empathy, Briella. But I’m not a goddamn machine.”
“I’ve never believed tha?—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He stabs me again, then barks, “Look at me.”
I do. It’s far worse than hatred in his eyes. Something vast. Not empty, not dead—contained. Like staring into the heart of a starless winter night, the kind that doesn’t just chill butwelcomes. It’s not black ice. It’s the hush of snowfall in a graveyard. Cold, yes—but not lifeless. The kind of cold you want to press your skin against, just to feel somethingreal.
