Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
The stress of my situation alone could prevent me from conceiving. If he did his research, he would know this. Maybe he doesn’t care. He does love to boast about his patience.
But if it all goes his way, in seven or eight years, he’ll have a new generation of bodies to molest and control. Once he has that, he won’t need me anymore.
My body will join the others in the fire pit.
Except I have an ace up my sleeve.
Birth control.
But how does that help right now? His sons will bargain with him. They’ll offer themselves in my place. I can’t allow that.
I made a promise.
The only way to stop them from making a deal with the devil is to make that deal myself.
Denver watches me with his usual stillness, his gaze knowing.
He knew the moment this conversation started how it would end.
“Your sons aren’t small anymore.” My throat tightens. “But I am. I’m small and weak like a child.”
“I’m aware.” His timbre roughens, thick with filth and smoke.
I want to reach across the space between us and spill his throat all over his crisp white shirt and that heinous erection tenting his slacks.
But that won’t keep his sons and me alive.
“I’ll come to you willingly. I’ll surrender. I’ll submit.” The words rise with bile, but I deliver them clearly, evenly. “That’s how I’ll ensure you won’t touch them.”
“When they discover you in my bed, they’ll intervene.”
“I’ll deal with them. You will deal only with me. No other bargains. If you touch them—”
“Why would I touch them if I have unrestricted access to your body?”
My stomach turns over, swarming with nausea.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
It’s them or me. What’s worse? Watching Denver abuse his sons? Or enduring the abuse myself?
I’m not a martyr. The decisions I make are for me because I’m a selfish coward, and I can’t bear it any other way. “You will touch me and only me. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes, with one stipulation.” He pauses, waiting for my gaze. “You will fuck my boys as well.”
“What?” My heart stops.
“I want their seed inside you.”
The blood drains from my face.
I should’ve known. Of course, he wants that. Better chance of knocking me up.
“Kody, specifically,” he says. “He’s never been with a woman. All that pent-up come just waiting to burst…” He groans. “He’ll fill you like a fire hose.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m practical. The boy is magnificent, and he desperately needs to get laid.” He cocks his head. “Were you gentle with Wolf?”
“None of your business.”
“Is he dripping down those pretty thighs as we speak?”
A prickle of fear runs through me. I didn’t shower and have no proof of sex on my body.
I square my shoulders. “What I do with your sons is between them and me. Discussing the details with you is a hard no.”
“I require evidence.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“You will come to me while their come is fresh inside you. Do you agree to the terms?”
Do I agree to be intimate with the men I’m trying to protect? Then turn around and give myself to an evil pedophile, who will undoubtedly imagine he’s with a child while he uses my body?
A feverish chill spreads across my skin as my insides shrivel up and die. It takes several attempts to croak out a response.
“Yes.” I’ll deal with the evidence problem later.
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Seal the deal, little girl.” He sinks deeper into the chair, letting his legs fall open and his arms dangle over the armrests. “Take me out.”
His rotten soul pollutes the air. I can’t breathe through the stench.
When did it get so dark in here? At some point, the fire died into pulsing red embers, beckoning the shadows from the edges of the room, inviting them to lengthen and hover.
They don’t call it the darkest hour for nothing. It was invented to test those who dare to fight, to push us past our boundaries and to force us to do unspeakable things to stay alive. Things we would never do under normal conditions.
In the dark, we all lose our way.
As my body rises from the chair and moves to him, my spirit drifts somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away.
My hands go through the motions. My lips do as they’re commanded. But I don’t feel him. I don’t taste him. This thing is happening to a carcass of flesh and bone. I’m no longer present.
Time doesn’t exist, but after a while, I wonder if I’ve floated too far away, snapped and separated too irreparably.
Until I find myself face-down and bent over his mattress.
With his hands on my hips, he yanks my flannel pants to the floor.
The instinct to fight hardens my muscles. My neck tightens. My fingers curl into fists. My back teeth crash together.
“I get the feeling…” He presses the head of his exposed cock against my very dry, clenched anus. “You’re not going to cooperate.”