He was too strong, I was too weak.
He was too hard, and I was too soft.
“Yes, yes, take me, Belle,” he groaned. “Take me and earn my forgiveness.” And I couldn’t deny that I felt better at hearing those words. That maybe I could make everything right if I could just do this one thing for him. If I could just hold on for a few more minutes without falling apart completely.
“Remember that this mouth is mine now, not his, not anyone’s, but mine,” he gritted, sounding angry with me as he slammed his way into my mouth over and over.
My jaw ached, saliva dribbled from the corners of my mouth, and still he pumped into me. Still his hand clutched painfully at my hair, holding my head in place, not giving me even an inch to breathe, grinding his way into my throat as I tasted his precum.
His words frightened me—his actions even more so. But at least I wasn’t alone. At least I was being forgiven by someone. And right then, all I wanted was for someone to accept me. For someone to know that I was truly truly sorry and that I never intended for any of this to happen.
So I took Lorenzo. I opened my throat up to accept him even though it hurt. I sucked and tightened my lips around him and sheathed my teeth, and created a stronger suction as he pushed into me over and over, demanding an apology from my mouth.
Gone was the gentle lover I’d had, replaced by this brutish man as he fucked my mouth viciously, claiming my apology for himself from my swollen lips until finally he was coming in long, hot spurts across my tongue and down the back of my throat. He shouted incoherently in Italian as he ground himself into my mouth, his hands pulling at my hair painfully as he choked me with his hard length. I thought I would suffocate, as he held himself in me, his hips thrust up so high that the tip of him was blocking my airway as he made sure I took every last inch of him and swallowed every last drop of his semen.
I started to panic, struggling and pushing against him as I sought air. My eyes streamed, hot tears dropping onto his crotch that seemed to spur him on and demand more from me.
“Yes, Belle,” he yelled loudly as his throbbing cock began to finally soften.
Lorenzo finally let go of me with a sigh of deep satisfaction, and I released him from my mouth with a loud pop from my lips. I sat up gasping for air, my mouth feeling bruised from his brutality, and I stared at him for long moments in silence, confused, broken, and lost. I didn’t know this man—this monster, this maniac—and right then I didn’t seem to know myself either. We were strangers in that car, becoming people that neither of us recognized.
My lungs burned as I breathed fresh air into them, the taste of his salty cum still in my mouth as I stared at him in horror.
His face was expressionless, his eyes swimming with darkness, until finally he spoke. “You’re forgiven, Belle,” he said calmly, like it was the most logical thing for him to say then, after what he’d just done.
I was forgiven.
I gasped, not sure what to say to that, and he smiled at my silence, reaching out to stroke away the spittle at the side of my mouth.
“Once can be forgiven, Belle,” he warned, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. “But once only. Do you understand?”
I nodded, but I didn’t, not really. Had he just punished me? Was that not affection but revenge he’d just inflicted upon my mouth with such viciousness that my jaw throbbed and my throat burned? A punishment to stake his claim and a warning not to do it again or worse would happen?
A sickness began to grow in my gut, worry growing deep inside me. What had I done?
“Good,” he said with a smile, and the darkness I’d seen in his eyes disappeared. Once again he was the handsome Lorenzo, restaurant owner, businessman, and tentative lover, but I’d seen behind his veil now, and what I’d seen frightened me. “Let’s get you home, shall we? You must be tired,” he said, pushing his now flaccid length back into his pants and buttoning himself back up. I watched as he pulled some of my long hair from between his fingers, opened a window and dropped them out of it, and I realized how sore the back of my head was where he’d pulled my hair.
Lorenzo slid his seat forward and started the engine, and I realized as we pulled away from the secluded crest that this hadn’t been a chance decision to go there. He’d brought me there for that purpose. I’d thought I had sought his forgiveness so that things would be better in my life, so that Lorenzo could be the one good thing I had. But instead, I realized with sinking dread, I’d just made my situation ten times worse.
Chapter Eleven
~ BEAST ~
“Your sexy nurse said you can start doing some light exercises, brother,” Gauge said around a mouthful of cigar smoke. “No drinking and no drugs, but at least you can get your ass out of that bed and get moving again.”
Casa snickered from the corner. He had a cigarette dangling between his lips as he painted something on my wall. I’d given up asking him what it was.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” I growled.
Casa looked over his shoulder. “Heard you had a workout yesterday with the lovely luscious Lola.”
Lola. Fucking Lola.
Bitch couldn’t keep her mouth shut, but at least she was bending the truth for both of our sakes.
“That’s what she’s here for, ain’t it?” I grunted, throwing the sheet back and dropping my feet to the floor.
“Thought you and that nurse were a thing,” Gauge said, his dark eyebrows pulled in.
“Nah, brother, she picked the fucking Italian, remember? You goin’ senile or something?” Casa said without looking, his hand wrapped around a paintbrush and moving swiftly over the wall.
“Fuck off,” I bit out.
“I know what happened. Just thought with her being in here all the time she would have changed her mind.” Gauge threw Casa a dirty look. Brother was getting real touchy about his age. It wasn’t like he was actually getting old or anything—no older than the rest of us, really—but the more it irritated him, the more Casa liked to push on that button just to piss him off more.
“Yeah, well, you’re wrong.” I stood up, a wave of dizziness washing over me. I stumbled, and Gauge reached for me but I shoved him off with a snarl. “Get off me. I’ve got it. I just stood up too quick is all.”
He stood back, his hands in the air. “Fine, fall the fuck over then, see if I care.”
The dizziness faded and I dragged a hand down my face. I couldn’t mess this up again. I had to get my shit sorted out. Things were coming to a head and I wanted to be a part of it. But for that I needed to be strong. I needed to be able to walk without getting dizzy. To be able to see other people without losing my temper. I needed to be able to ride my bike and hold a gun if I was going to hunt them down and shoot them. But most importantly, I needed to be able to wield a knife so I could cut my pound of flesh out of the men that ruined my life and took away my brother.
“Throw me my jeans,” I said, taking a deep breath as I tried to cope with the sickness that was clawing its way up my stomach. I’d been lying down for too long. I’d let my muscles waste to practically nothing. I’d become weak and feeble and thin. My hip bones jutted out, my collarbones were sharp. I’d been so consumed with my own rage and desire for vengeance that I’d stopped eating properly and my body was paying the price for it.