She wants me to fuck her harder.
It’s why she punches me, adding more pain. I give her what she really wants as I wrap my hand around the blade of the knife. There’s less than an inch of the tip exposed as I make shallow lines on the curve of her ass. My pain slut of a wife clenches around me, her fists flying back faster, making the line fuck up. Grabbing her wrists, I hold them in the center of her back as I fuck her hard. Silently.
Each thrust is commemorated with a raw line on her ass cheek. When I’ve covered one cheek, I fall over her to fit the knife against her throat as I run my tongue over the curve of her ear, tasting her. Everyone is still watching us, but I’ve blocked them from seeing her as I close my lips over the cut on her ear.
Fuck me.
She tastes like perfection and she fucking moans. It’s low, barely audible as I groan, “Say another man’s name again, and I’ll slit your throat.”
13
DELILAH
Igrind back against him, my body at odds with my tongue as I spit, “Fuck you.”
The harder Kane fucks me, the more my ass stings. The pain grounds me, keeping me with him instead of focusing on the fact we’re being watched. I need the distraction of him hating me so I can keep my memories of Kane separate from everything happening. Little pockets of Kane shine through as he bites into the side of my neck. “Mine.” He bites down even harder, forcing me to scream as my spine curves to escape the knife at my throat.
He reverently traces the indents left by his teeth with the tip of his tongue as he stabs into the wooden frame. Then brings his bloody palm to my face directly in front of my lips, hooking two fingers under the collar around my neck. My air isn’t fully cut off, just enough that it’s harder to breathe. He smothers me as I tilt my head back, his palm fully covering my mouth and his blood slipping between my lips.
“Good wife,” he softly coos into my neck. “My good wife.”
I nod. Like a fucking idiot.
“Koukla mou,” he says so low I can barely hear it over the sound of his hips slapping my ass. “Perfect little cunt,” he groans. “All mine.”
More blood floods out of the cut, staining my teeth as I bite his palm. He pushes deeper between my teeth, lifting up to grab my hair with his other hand. My scream is muffled as he pulls my hair, forcing me to inflict more pain. He relishes in the pain as he tilts his hips, but he’s making it harder to keep my promise not to come.
Tensing my inner muscles, I tighten around him as he pulls out to the tip, then relax when he pushes back inside me so hard the bench creaks. I keep the rhythm, matching him, waiting for this to be over so I can collect his promise away from the audience. But he pulls my head further back. The window shows his imposing figure behind me, his hand wrapped in my hair, his blood smudged on my skin as he slowly wipes his other hand down my face. Blood coats my chin, my cheeks, and his crimson fingerprints are on my jaw. For once in my life, I look powerful—feared instead of fearful.
I watch him as I scream for him to stop, begging him to let me go. My eyes are red, but I don’t stop screaming. Not as he slaps his bloody hand against my ass so hard I can’t feel the other cheek stinging. Not when he restricts my air by pulling my head back to look at the domed, glass roof above us.
The only time I subdue my screams is when he’s close to release—his neck cords, the muscles more pronounced. Then, when I know he’s close—the game is over—I force my body to go limp.
Kane doesn’t deserve the mindfuck of hearing cries while he comes. No one does. He shows his gratitude by slowly lowering me to the bench as he thrusts once, twice, three more times and bites into my nape as he climaxes.
His thrusts are slower, shallow. I clench around him, wanting to keep him above me, but we won’t be able to get what we need if he doesn’t play his part correctly. When he doesn’t move, I slowly turn my head to nudge him. It takes four attempts before he mechanically pulls out of me then grabs the torn hem of my dress to wipe his dick as he spits on my cheek.
“That will teach you not to bite me. The next time I feel teeth, I’ll knock them out of your fucking mouth.”
I close my eyes, remaining limp as they congratulate him. Which Helene obviously has to be first. “A natural.” She claps once. “Soon you’ll be ready to learn all of our ways.”
Die, you stupid fucking cunt.
Then my mother. “I always mistook you as a meek boy, incapable of doing what was necessary, but you’ve made Asher proud.”
I’m going to piss on your body before I burn you.
Lastly, my father, who makes bile burn up my throat as he offers, “If you need the tricks to make her obey, I’ll be happy to show you.”
When I know my baby’s safe, I’m going to rape that cunt with the biggest fucking knife I can find. For days, weeks, months—however long I need to replace the memories of him.
Kane manages to defend me while continuing the game as his voice turns deadly. “Harkin, if you touch my wife again, I’ll personally make you a eunuch. You won’t destroy this bond by implanting your bastard inside her.”
He's so fucked up. We both are. Given our surroundings, it’s heartwarming because he plants a seed of doubt within the biggest monster’s mind. Helene’s violence is fully fixed on Harkin as she turns her back to us. “Do you think your words or actions are above mine?”
“N-no,” he stammers.
Kane blocks them as he removes the leash from the hook while they’re so focused on their argument, they don’t even care about us. But I’m fixated on him as he keeps his back to them, sticking his tongue out to lick his nose while he looks down to check if he’s touching. It was a dumb thing I’d convinced myself I could do and I’d always show him when we’d hide in the park. He remembers every little thing, inconsequential details that were stupid kid shit. Yet, he remembers them. Now I do too.
