I don’t have a knife to use blood as my medium, so I write my apology on her clit as I lower my zipper. Four fingers in her cunt, my thumb on her clit, yet I’m still not fucking hard.
Asher laughs, the fucker.“If she didn’t kill me, I’d step in to fill your shoes. Or pussy, but it’s the same thing between us, isn’t it?”
I beg for anything—precum, a fucking pitiful bead to squeeze out as I stroke my length. There’s fucking nothing, forcing me to do the only thing I can as I close my eyes, aiming at her thigh.
“Relaxing thoughts, reflection. Think of a waterfall.”
I screw my eyes shut even tighter.
“Or a stream.”
The small trickle starts, forcing me to open my eyes so I can write my name on her skin. The liquid drips onto the mirrored floor, splashing up onto my boots, but I manage to write four letters with my piss, so she’ll know it’s me.
K A N E
I fuck her with my fingers. Harder. Faster. Needing her cum to be able to add more messages to her body when the streamends. Stepping closer to her, I use the tip of my glistening dick to draw a heart on her other thigh.
“Cute,”Asher scoffs as I tuck my dick away.“She’s going to cherish your dirty heart.”
His sarcasm is unnecessary when I’m using the only tool at my disposal, for fuck’s sake. There’s no visible opening on the box for me to pull her out. The small notch she’s poking through isn’t big enough to drag her out without hurting her. I don’t even know what’s inside. It could fucking kill her if her neck is chained.
Delilah, my beautiful wife, is right in front of me yet she’s still not with me. It’s like I’m locked in a cell all over again, memorizing letters I want to send to her if I’m ever allowed to have a pen.
I play her body for my own selfish need, curl my fingers up, forcing her to come. Her screams echo through the box but they’re followed by the audience laughing.
Using my soaked fingers, I massage around her ass before slowly pushing three fingers of my other hand into her stretched cunt. I spit down despite her body providing everything we need, then rub my spit into her clit. The screams get louder as I push a finger into her ass, adding another to her cunt.
Remember it’s me, pretty girl. Remember how you’d beg me to fuck your ass. I was so scared of hurting you I laid flat on my back, waiting for you to move. Remember I love you. Remember me so I have someone to tell me who I was when this is all over.
And please remember I loved you innocently, selfishly, without limits or restriction before I became this.
64
DELILAH
“I’m going to catch you,” I say with lightness in my voice, running forward with my back hunched as our baby girl giggles, running towards Kane.
“Run, pretty baby,” he says with the same lightness. “She’s right there.”
Her giggles get louder until they fade, and I’m stuck with the image of myself—alone.
I scream.
I scream louder than I ever have in my life as I close my eyes, attempting to drag my mind back to the beautiful limbo where I’m with my family.
But my screaming morphs at the way my body is violated again while I’m locked in a mirrored box. The person staring at me isn’t me, it’s someone who belongs to everyone else.
The mirror taunts me as my nerves are abruptly turned back on to register the handinme.
I lie to myself again; I tell myself it’s Kane and we’re on the window ledge.
He hates me, but it’s pretend.
He forces my body to do what he wants because he knows me. He’s not Rowan, he’s not Harkin. He’s not whoever else has stepped into the room. He’s Kane. My Kane, who sees me. I tell the lie so successfully the ghost of his voice echoes through my memory as warm liquid splashes against my inner thighs.“Remember I love you.”
“I do. I love you too, baby.”
But his voice changes to the deep one Ghost would use, getting further away. I clench as two fingers are pushed into my ass. “Filthy fucking whore.”
