She still does though. “No.” She shoots to her feet and backs away.
She’s redressed in the pair of my shorts and tee, exposing some of that mottled skin I haven’t seen yet. She looks tiny in my clothes. They drown her. Black suits her. It’s kind of a pretty contrast to her skin. She even –
I’m hit with the first visual of her arms, clearing those ridiculous thoughts before they transpire into something ludicrous.
I close the distance and grab her arm, yanking her over to the bed. She fights me every step, screaming and scratching at my arm, but it makes no difference. I throw her onto the mattress and mount her, trapping her legs between mine, pinning her arms above her head.
I examine the patches of skin visible to me. They’re grotesque. Bone deep. I trail up to her face, she’s got a scowl fixed there, attempting to look vicious, but I see beneath it. I see a vulnerability there that usually turns me on, but with her it just irks me.
“Who hurt you?”
She presses her lips into a thin line. Refusal.
“Dammit, Elodie, tell me.”
“Why?” she spits, disdain dripping from her. “Why does it matter?”
“Because it does.”
She stares into my eyes, debating something. Finally, she says, “My father.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a fucked-up prick. Why the fuck else?”
I lick my teeth. Then I remember what the boys said. “I want to see the rest of it.” I lift up, releasing her arms and she instantly bats at my body. It doesn’t take much effort to get the shirt off. She’s got no strength in her, it’s kind of taking the piss that I’m doing this now, when she hasn’t got the slimmest chance of overpowering me. Of course, with no bras in the house tolend her, she’s bare-chested. Usually, it might be distracting, if it weren’t for the mass of blacks, blues, and purples all over her torso.
She swears at me, throws her arms over her tits but it’s fine. I’ve seen what I needed to see there. Shuffling down to her knees, I start to shimmy the shorts off. She struggles against me, releasing her chest to claw at my hands and protest. The erratic movements and sharp scratches really test my patience as I keep losing my grip on the waistband. I go up to her face and claw at her chin. “I’m just going to fucking look, okay? If you’re difficult about it, I’ll ram something up you and it won’t be any part of me.”
She immediately falls still, frozen with a fresh bout of fear. I see it sparkling there in the ocean of her eyes, ice-cold, petrified.
Huffing, I push her legs up from under me, remove the shorts, grip her knees and spread them apart. Her head swings to the side, eyes flying shut as she tries to disappear into her mind.
Instantly, I see Alfie didn’t give her a pair of boxers to wear, so I’m now staring at her pussy.
Shit. I’ve suddenly forgotten what I was meant to be doing. Despite the hair that’s grown wild from lack of maintenance, I hate to admit Fiz was right. It’s a pretty fucking pussy. Cute, delicate, beckoning.
Goddammit.
My mouth fills with saliva, my cock fills with blood.
She squirms, knocking me from my stupor. I blink several times, and everything else comes back into focus.
There’re bruises all around her thighs, especially along the insides, obvious finger impressions around the groin. My hand involuntarily comes up, fingertips trailing some of them, grazing with a feather-light brush. Her breath snags. “Your father did this too?” I pull my eyes away to look at her.
She’s still got her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Silence.
My heart speeds up. I crawl back up to hover above her. “Or was it someone else? Are the rumours true?”
Silence.
My patience frays. “Fucking speak to me.”
“It’s none of your business,” she spits.
I exhale an unamused laugh. “Newsflash, sweetheart,” I say, flattening my body onto hers, letting her feel my weight crushing her, feeling my hardened cock against her. She winces at my weight. “Everything about you is my business now. I can find out anything I want about you, but I’m giving you the option to save me the trouble. I will find out either way. I’ll find out who and when, how, what fucking positions. I’ll find out your worst fears, your favourite foods, what keeps you up at night. I’ll learn your worst habits, your darkest thoughts. Your brightest ambitions. All of it. But right now, I want to know who’s been inside your pussy. I want to know if you’re really the dirty whore I’ve heard you to be.”
“Why?” She turns her head, eyes landing on mine, glower on full power. “Why do you even care?”
