Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I’m freezing, my body trembling uncontrollably, every muscle aching more than I ever thought was possible. I’ve been in some pretty uncomfortable situations, but even combining all of those together wouldn’t get close to how I feel now. Being poked, prodded, stabbed, and at one point, zapped with electrical charges, have made me weaker than I’ve ever been.
I attempt to press into her, not wanting her to touch me on any level, but desperate for the warmth her skin against mine brings.
They had to have given me fucking Viagra or some other fucking drug because my cock is responding to her in a way I’d never want if left to my own devices. I growl, the sounds I’m making as weak as my muscles feel.
Her lips are warm as they brush my skin, but each press of them leaves behind a wetness that has the power to chill me to the bone.
When she’s near my face, I contemplate biting her fucking nose off, but the look in her eyes makes me freeze. I can’t fully understand, and maybe that’s partly because my mind is a fucking mess right now, but there isn’t taunting in her gaze. She looks no happier to be here than I am. Maybe my brain is seriously fucking with me. Maybe I’m seeing what I want to see, if only to make it easier on myself.
I shake my head as much as I can manage when she settles on top of me, the warmth of her cunt pressing against my length.
I swear I’ll choke and die if she keeps it up because I’m going to fucking puke.
She leans forward as if she’s going to kiss me, her lips brushing my jaw.
“They’ll hurt us both if you don’t fight me.” Her words are lower than a whisper, and hard to fully decipher without my full concentration, which is impossible right now, considering everything I’ve been through.
There’s pleading in her eyes when she stares down at me.
It leaves me torn. I want to fucking fight her because I hate what’s fucking happening right now, but at the same time, she has to know that no matter what I do, I’m going to be hurt. Fighting her may ensure she’s safe, but it means fucking nothing for me. When they unstrap me from this damn table, Pirro’s going to pull that fucking knife out and start slicing away at my skin once again. I’m not fucking interested in helping this bitch out. If I’m going to be hurt, she can be hurt too.
I turn my eyes up, the ceiling of the room covered in too many lights to count.
I’m stubborn if anything, and I don’t care about the sadness in her eyes. I doubt she was looking sad when she quietly sat to the side that first day when Pirro worked me over.
I’m considering dying just to spite her when pain radiates in my rib cage. My body instinctively tries to curl to the side. I watch as she looks away from me to some place over my shoulder, her fingers still digging into the wound on my side.
When she looks down at me, I have full understanding. Fight her for them or she’ll make me.
As stubborn as I can be, I’ve had enough pain to last several lifetimes.
Her chin quivers as she slips her hand between her legs, and I swear the woman looks like she’s about to be sick.
I shake my head, trying to clear it of any sympathy threatening to form for her. I’ve not heard a single threat, witnessed anyone try and hurt her. She’s as willing to do this as I am unwilling, despite her whispered plea in my ear.
I calm but it only lasts a second when I feel her fingers brush another wound.
I growl into the gag in my mouth, spitting every insult I can manage at her. It feels like defeat, giving her exactly what she’s asking for, but my head is no longer controlling my body.
The same goes for my cock, and I hate the way it lifts from my stomach as if seeking her hand.
I try to roll my head away, but a soft yet harsh finger clamps my jaw, forcing me to face her. I clench my eyes shut, refusing the only thing I have power over right now.
She doesn’t pull her fingers from my face as her other hand lines my cock up at her entrance.
It shouldn’t feel good, the way her body engulfs me, but it doesn’t stop the muffled groan from being absorbed into the gag lodged in my mouth.
She looks pissed when she curls forward, her face mere inches from mine. This bitch has the audacity to look mad when she’s the one doing all this shit. I don’t hear any barked commands from the other side of the room. She’s doing this on her own, and I fucking hate her for it.