Caden makes an unsubtle motion of rearranging his dick, which is certainly getting hard at the images I’m instilling into his primal brain.
We’re all running on fumes now, weeks without the feel of a pussy wrapped around one body part or another. No porn, no wanking. Just the mere mental image of a perfectly untouched vagina has us all tipping over the edge.
“Did she taste good?” Alf murmurs, tapping a Lego piece rapidly on the table and bobbing one of his crossed legs.
I grin. “Fucking divine.”
There’s a moment of wistful silence, our brains drifting off to the same place between tight, wet walls.
“Shame about the body.” I sigh. “Never seen someone so fucked up, and that’s saying something. The pussy” – I bring my fingertips to my mouth and give a chef’s kiss – “her body on the other hand…” I drop my arm into my lap, shake my head. “Proper broken.”
Cade holds up a hand. “Hold on. What do you mean she’s fucked up?”
Alf tilts his head. “I told you. Her body’s a wreck.”
“Yeah,” I add, “she’s been beaten to a damn pulp. I’m surprised there’s no like, broken bones or something.”
Cade shakes his head, eyes closed. “Wait, wait. I thought you meant the state of her, the starved and dirty aesthetic. You mean she’s actually injured?”
I look across to Alf. “Well, yeah. She had a pair of your shorts and tee on, could see some of her skin. Then you take the shorts off – all the colours of the violent rainbow.”
Cade’s eyes glaze over. “Sex?”
I shrug. “Pfft, if it’s sex then she’s one hell of a masochist. That’d be too far even for me.”
“So, you’re saying someone beat her?”
“My guess.”
He looks to Alf. “Her dad?”
He rolls a shoulder, puts a couple of Lego pieces together. “She wasn’t forthcoming with information.”
“The bruises on her thighs looked a little intimate – if they’re from her old man,” I say, a tad quieter.
Caden shoots up, crosses the room, and disappears.
Whoops. I only meant to rile him up. Instigate a little drama, carnage, drive him up the proverbial wall. I didn’t stop to think that I might ram him straight through it.
Good luck, Sleeping Beauty.
CHAPTER 7
CADEN
What the fuck will I do if someone’s hurt her? The nightdress she was wearing when I picked her up was ankle length and long-sleeved. How was I supposed to know she was hurt?
What the fuck will I do if it’s from being fucked by someone?
My stomach coils itself up into a sickeningly tight knot. I’m not sure why I care.
Because it’ll confirm the rumours are true and I’m really marrying a slut that everyone’s railed. The rumours about her are quite graphic, injuries from them wouldn’t be far-fetched.
I’m berating myself on the way to my bedroom, knowing Fiz got in my head. If the rumours aren’t true, if she was hurt unwillingly… I have a reputation to uphold. I have a point to make. No one hurts my fiancé.
I burst through the door and don’t see her. Then a head pops up from the other side of the bed. I slam the door behind me.
“Get on the bed,” I order with a tone that tells her there’s no room for argument here.
