“Sugar, your boyfriend has a defiant streak.”
Keeping my head bowed, I peeked at Rafe, and the tribal tattoo covering the left side of his heaving chest drew my focus. The black lines danced over his abs as he tried to catch his breath from his eventual dive into ecstasy.
My heart wouldn’t stop galloping, and a flush bathed my skin in sweat. I was hot and wet between my thighs. Rafe did that. We did that to each other. His release still echoed in my mind, an arousing whisper that infiltrated my system until I wanted to squirm.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. I knew I’d find only shame and self-hate. He hadn’t been capable of holding back, and though that thrilled some sadistic part of me, it would douse him in guilt because Cleft and his men would punish me for it.
But wasn’t that the point? They were doing this to fuck with his head, with both of our heads.
Someone grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me to my feet.
“Leave her alone!” Rafe shouted.
I didn’t bother fighting. There was no point, but beyond that, I refused to give them the satisfaction. Firm fingers turned my head, and I met Brock’s eyes. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue up my cheek.
“Stop tasting the bitch and chain her up,” Cleft said.
Brock wrenched my arms behind me and forced my body into a bent over position. I spread my feet for traction and lifted my head, finally peering at Rafe through my thick, messy curls.
He pulled at the chains mercilessly, and panic strained his features. He looked ready to rip out of his skin to get to me.
The heavy thump of Brock’s footsteps halted behind me. He took his time, prolonging the torture of waiting for that first strike.
It was going to hurt. I knew it before the whip sliced the air. The leather cut across my ass with scorching impact, and I locked my gaze on Rafe, pretending he’d ordered the lashing.
I’d been bad. Maybe I’d come before he’d given me permission, or I’d done something more serious, like piss him off with some sort of reckless behavior. I could see myself doing that. I was, after all, the girl who’d tried to kill herself in an attempt to escape a psychopath.
My scattered thoughts were on the brink of reality. Even acknowledging that didn’t slow the wheels of my mind. We had no way out, no way of knowing how long either of us would live.
I wouldn’t let them take this from us. Pain…pain between Rafe and I was supposed to be good, so with each thwack of that whip, I pretended it was from him. Squeezing my legs together, I hoped they wouldn’t notice the evidence of my arousal.
I was sure Rafe knew though. He read me too easily, and my face was on fire as I returned his heated gaze. Neither of us said a word, as if we’d come to a mutual understanding. After several more lashings, Brock dropped the whip with a clatter and exchanged a glance with Cleft.
“She’s hot from getting him off. Those fucking endorphins.” Sighing, Cleft paced the area between Rafe and me. “Gotta say I’m disappointed. Mason got to blow his fucking load, and you,” he said, stopping to grab my chin, “seem to be impervious to pain at the moment.”
Letting go of my face, he ran a hand through his brown hair and halted to confront Rafe. “This is a bit unfair, dontcha think? If you get to come, I think I should too.”
Rafe shook his head, his eyes spitting poison. “Not with her. You wanna fuck someone, do me.”
“Rafe!” I jerked forward, pulling the muscles in my shoulders, and nearly lost my balance. “No!” I’d rather Cleft fuck me. I could take it. But Rafe…he’d been raped in prison because of me. This was all my fault. I couldn’t stand the thought of him enduring it again.
“Ignore her,” Rafe said. “Fuck me. I know you want to.”
“No!” I shouted. “You can do whatever you want to me. Leave him alone.”
Cleft frowned. “Gag the bitch,” he told Brock.
Brock disappeared then came back a few moments later with a large ball gag held tightly in his fist. I shook my head, squirming in my restraints. Tears threatened, an unbearable burn behind my eyes.
Brock shoved the gag against my mouth. I groaned, pressing my lips together, and shook my head back and forth. His mouth flattened into a mean line as he forced the gag in. My protests came out as whines, screeching higher, and Vinnie cocked a gun and pressed the barrel to my temple.
Cleft dragged a chair near Rafe, then released him from the chains. “You see that gun? If you fight me even a little bit, Vinnie will blow her brains all over the place.”
I didn’t recognize Rafe in that moment. His eyes were alight with something I couldn’t name. He averted his gaze as he bent over the armchair, baring his ass to Cleft, who stood behind him, stance wide and cocky. He slowly unbuckled his jeans and pulled the zipper down. Cleft palmed his ass, fingers gouging skin, and Rafe’s whole body twitched. He fisted his hands.
He was really going to do it—allow this bastard to rape him, all to protect me.
The burn of vomit lingered in my throat, and I closed my eyes, panicked at the thought of puking while gagged. Five in, hold, five out. There wasn’t time for the repeat part.
Rafe hissed in a breath, and my eyes flew open.
Cleft worked the tip of his cock between Rafe’s ass cheeks. I pleaded for him to stop, but no one paid attention to the smothered whines emanating from my throat.
Then the door banged open and Lucas stood in the doorway. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted, his face red with fury.