by Nicole Snow
A thousand times no. This was beyond sin and anything I recognized as love, but my flesh wouldn't resist. I didn't have a prayer when his thumb covered my clit and began to stroke. His free hand moved up and his fingers caught my nipple.
He pinched and stroked and circled in matching rhythm, bringing two sensitive buttons to overload. I instinctively bucked against him, surrendering to his grasp. Once, I rocked into his lap and brushed against something hard.
Realizing it was his erection only fed the storm. I whimpered, moaned, and lost myself in his hands. I gave in, rolling my hips with his strokes, twisting into his wonderful fingers.
“You like that, babe?” He growled into my ear. “Course you do. You don't know what to think or feel or do with yourself. Well, I'll tell you: come for me. All you need to worry about is coming when I tell you to. I'm gonna make your little clit sizzle...”
He drew his fingers away, pressed them together, and slapped my folds to give his words life.
Oh, God, this couldn't be happening! It wasn't supposed to be like this, his touch giving me totally to the frenzy in my core.
“Fuck, baby, forget all this shit and come. Do it for me. I know you come beautiful.” His fingers were back, thumb and forefinger tightening around my clit as they swirled pure twisters. “Come, Cassie! Come your sweet brains out.”
My teeth sank together. I'd given myself orgasms before, often quick, alone, and always at night when my family couldn't hear. But to compare them to what he sent throttling into my system was no justice.
His hand worked me faster and his words kicked me into the storm building at my core. Screaming fire shot up my spine, hit my brain, and I lost control.
Muscles convulsed, my legs locked together around his hand, twitching and bucking at his magnificent touch. He played me, an expert in sex against the clueless novice.
No, a master.
I came hard, all muscles and shearing lighting, until the sweet climax turned everything blurry and white.
When it was over, I slumped in his arms, wincing as his fingers continued to dance around my folds. My hips shifted against his hard-on.
God, it was incredible, but it hadn't been enough. The climax hadn't relieved me, hadn't blown the insane desires swirling through my system. No, if anything they were stronger, and now I wanted to feel his bare flesh against mine. I wanted him to push into me deep and hard, turning me into white hot pleasure and limbs entwined with his.
I stupidly leaned in, begging for a kiss. He tipped his head and turned away. His fingers disappeared, and he got up. The coolness that replaced his heat was so cold.
Evan was leaving me.
“Hey, wait!” For the first time since this all happened, I yelled so loud my voice cracked. It was enough to stop him near the door. “Was fingering me what you came to do?”
He cocked his head, amused, folding his arms. “You're supposed to be a good girl. Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?”
“I'm not as pure as you think. Neither is Beacon Grove.” I swallowed. “Why, Evan? Why'd you do it if you're giving me up to another man?”
It took him a few seconds to answer. “Because I needed to show your ass that good things come to girls who listen. It'll be the same with him. I'm doing my job – getting your pretty ass warmed up. Nothing else.”
I yelled after him again, but this time he wasn't stopping. He was gone, and the door slammed shut, loud and final as a vault cover clicking into place.
I never understood how I slept that night. Maybe it just found me, or the ordeal left me way more spent than I realized.
Evan left my flesh with a nascent hunger buried beneath the exhaustion. Hate and confusion lapped just as deep as lust.
In my dreams, I saw the Prophet. It was one of the first sermons he delivered and repeated many times after, not long after Daddy packed up Heather and me and dragged us away to Beacon Grove.
“You all think God's blind, don't you?” He leaned on the pulpit, pulling at his tangled beard. “If that's what you think, my people, then it's you who cannot see.”
At this point, he always paused. And no matter how many times he did it, repeating his words and movements like bad theater, it was always eerie. We had to wait, hanging on every word. He teased us with his wisdom.
“God sees your sins. No matter how deep, how dark you like to hide them, he bores straight down to the roots. And after he's probed your depths, he sends lances, long and sharp. God doesn't handle sin with brimstone and curses and plagues! God's wrath, his lance, may give you your darkest desires, if only to drag your sin kicking and screaming into the light of day.”
When I was young, and not yet sure the faith was a fraud, I used to ask my father questions. Whenever I asked about this sermon, he always scoffed and twisted his head, eyeing me as if he'd bitten into something sour.
“Quit trying to make sense of this, Cassie. It's not your damned job. The Prophet does his work interpreting, and it's our job to carry out his wishes. If you're so worried about sin, then make sure you're not wrapped up in it. Just be a good girl.”
Good girl.
The evil words raged in my dreams. I heard them in Daddy's voice, and then in Evan's. They both wanted me to be good. It didn't matter that their definitions were universes apart.
Was this my punishment for disobeying God and enjoying sex I should've despised? This disgusting attraction to a man who was a demon?
The Prophet's warning made a twisted kind of sense. What he'd left out, though, was how damned good those lances felt when they pierced.
The charlatan had to know a thing or two about it with his own personal harem.
I hadn't figured out Evan's motive. Did it matter? Did I need to know more than that he meant to break me down and make me obey?
His pleasure was as deadly as his brutal grip. His pleasure was a lance, a weapon. I had to resist!
Jesus, no, the pleasure was a lie, and it wouldn't last. I had to escape. Somehow, someway, I had to get away from him and disappear.
I had to get out before getting out became totally impossible.
There had to be a way. A few extra seconds and a little less hesitation, and I would've smashed him over the head. If he nearly slipped up once, it would happen again, I was sure of it.
In my dream, deep in the fever, I understood.
Evan was the lance God had sent. Pain and pleasure were one with this man, a single punishment meant to undo me, to deliver me to a hell I'd never escape.
And Evan stabbed deep, just like the Prophet said, tearing at my soul. I needed to fight my lust and wrangle my fear. If I waited much longer, he'd dig too far and uproot everything with my sin, and then I would be out in the open, dying in the blinding light.
VI: Pressing Demands (Evan)
The sweet scent of her pussy was still on my hands when I walked away. Fuck, I needed to get it off me. Had to scrub it away before it damned me into doing something with her I'd really regret.
Walking away from that beautiful broken girl while I sported the hardest cock of my life was pure hell. Her body teased me and tempted me along with her words. But I had to resist.
This wasn't pleasure. This was a job. Pure and simple.
I had to keep my fucking dick in my pants for Ty.
If I fucked her and ruined her, Borzia would know. Even if he didn't find out until I got my son back, he'd kill her then and there, and chase us to the ends of the earth.
Cassie deserved better, no matter how fucked she was in his hands. So did my son.
Izzy was leaning against the door to my room when I got upstairs. I knew I was in for a shitstorm as soon as I saw her face, pale and wrinkled with worry.
Fuck! After what went down, I wanted to pop half a pack of melatonin and sleep, free from dreams and memories. The blackness was all I had. The void gave me solace I'd never find again in a woman's touch.
Not even Cassie's, I thought.
God damn, what was with Izzy since she'd go
tten sober? I liked her better as a bitch than my second shadow.
“What do you want?” I growled, hoping to make this short and sweet.
“I could hear her all the way up here, you know. What did you do, Evan? Is she hurt?” She stepped closer, eyes like daggers.
“Of course not! I can handle a little fucking girl, Izzy. What the hell do you think?”
“I think you did something terrible. Let me see her. She doesn't deserve this...” Izzy started to walk past me.
I stuck out my hand and crashed against her tits. The shock left her stuck in her tracks. “Where do you think you're going? Yeah, she's upset, if you wanna pick the most goddamned obvious thing in the world to bitch about. But you don't get it, Izzy. The last thing Cassie needs right now is to have you busting in and crying all over her. Your sympathy won't help. It'll just make this shit a whole lot worse. It's not safe, for you or her.”
That got her attention. She quirked an eyebrow and looked at me.
Sonofabitch. Cassie's not the only one upset. Should've kept my fucking mouth shut.
“What happened?” She pleaded.
Too late. I decided to spill it.
“The girl tried to kill my ass when I came for her. Tried to beat my skull in with a fucking toilet seat, of all things.” Izzy's jaw dropped. “Tomorrow, we're gonna go through and proof the fuck out of that room. Didn't think I'd have to treat her like a total prisoner, but I was wrong. She's smarter than she looks.”
“Or she just wanted to get rid of you that much,” she said coldly. “Are you listening to yourself, Evan? This isn't you.”
Rage exploded in my gut and roared up my spine. I lunged forward, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pressed her to the wall. Izzy yelped, the only thing that made me relax my demon grip.
“Shut the fuck up! You wanna talk about who's changed?” My lips peeled back, baring my teeth. “You're the one who was riding my ass to get this thing started. I thought it was bullshit at the time, but you know what? You were right.”
Izzy blinked. Bitch probably couldn't believe I'd just thrown her a bone.
“I might still be fucking off and putting Ty's life in danger if you hadn't moved in and flogged me to find a slave for that motherfucker who's got your nephew. Well, I did it. I did my fucking part. I don't need you going weak in the knees, woman.” I let her toes touch the ground again. “Get your goddamned head straight. Get ready. You laid off the booze, and that's great, but it's shit if sober means soft. I want to see the old Izzy. I know she's in there somewhere.”
“No, Evan, I –“
“Told you to shut the fuck up and listen. If we don't do this, Ty's as good as dead. That's the price of mercy. I told you everything I know about Miguel Borzia. Don't think for a second there's another way out of this, because there isn't. Fuck, if there were, I would've given my soul. Anything to have my son back without an innocent girl getting hurt.” Snarling, I licked my lips, and swallowed the hard rock building in my throat. “Life's never that fucking simple. This is the solution, our only solution. Understand?”
“There's got to be another way...” Here eyelids fluttered, weak with confusion, shaking her head. “Can't we at least guarantee she's safe when she's handed off?”
I barked laughter. The bitch was just being funny now.
“Lady, you don't guarantee shit with this man. We'll be lucky to get our boy back in one piece, even if we do everything he says. I explained all that shit to you when you demanded to be a part of this. Like I told you, Izzy, I did my damned part. Pull your panties up your ass and do yours.”
I let her go and turned, my eyes lingering on the white impressions my fingers left on her arms. She sniffled once, but managed to shake off her emotions without bawling. Thank God for tiny favors.
“I don't want to hurt her,” she said meekly. “I don't like this. I can't stand the person I've become. The alcohol let me deal, and now I can't. You know I love Ty, Evan, but I'm not cut out for this.”
Hot anger flashed in my skull. I spun, and nearly threw her into the wall again. “You telling me you're having second thoughts? You want my son to die? I thought family meant something to you!”
Shit. Didn't realize how loud I was screaming until Jenny's old vase on the stand several steps away vibrated with my fury.
“I'm sorry!” she spat, throwing up her hands.
Lovely. The woman had a real knack for pointing out what an asshole I was, and now she was dead on. We'd both become monsters, yeah, but I'd turn into the devil himself for my boy. And if I had to drag her to hell kicking and screaming behind me, I was game.
Much as I didn't want to admit it, I needed this bitch. I needed her in my life to prep this girl for market, and then I needed her to help get our shit back together in the very lucky event Ty came home.
The boy needed his aunt's comfort, especially without knowing what the cartel was putting him through. I'd crawl through barbed wire and lava and broken glass for that kid, but I couldn't replace Jenny. I was his father, yeah, but I was just as fucked up as everybody else, fucked to the point of never, ever being fixed.
Ty needed me. But he also needed someone who saved hearts after I looked him in the eyes and told him Mommy was never coming home.
“I don't know if it's still the booze talking, or you,” I sneered. Had to jar her out of feeling sorry for herself. “Izzy, I don't give a damn if you want out. You think you feel bad now, you'll fucking kill yourself if anything happens to him. I'm keeping your ass in the fire with me for your own good. You understand that, don't you?”
I pressed one hand to her shoulder. She tried to turn away, but I squeezed. Hard.
“Look at me.” I waited. And then waited some more as she stopped her lips from trembling and locked eyes with mine.
“Just do your job. The sooner we get this shit over with, the better. The faster we break her down, the quicker she'll be ready for Miguel, and we can have Ty here in one piece. Soon as she's gone and our boy's home, we can forget. We'll bleach our fucking brains if we have to. The only thing I wanna remember in all this is Jenny. Nothing more.”
It hurt like hellfire to say her name, but I did. Izzy was just as much a screwed up asshole as me, but she was family, the only other person on the planet who suffered like I did over her death.
What are you saying, asshole? Nobody suffers like you. Izzy only hurts because her sister's gone. She didn't have to watch her die. She doesn't have the memory of the life in her eyes going out, the real, hellish fear that the same damned thing is waiting for Ty if you don't do your fucking job.
I silenced the poison memories with a growl. Throwing my arms around Izzy's neck, I pulled her in as she cracked, letting her bawl against my chest. Monster or not, I wasn't totally dead inside. I'd comfort her if it helped get her back on track.
Deep down inside, I only wished I could offer the same thing to Cassie. But fuck, the girl was just as likely to scratch my heart out through my inked up chest if she got this close.
What happened tonight was a big goddamned mistake.
No fucking wonder Izzy was getting so confused. Even if she didn't know exactly what happened, it rubbed off on her. I had to treat Cassie like a slave, and only a fucking slave.
She wasn't a guest here, and she sure as fuck wasn't going to be my lover, no matter how her rocking body tortured my cock.
Izzy's tears stopped, and she pulled away, staring up at me. “You've killed people, Evan. I know you have. It feels like we're sentencing her to death. Tell me, does it ever get easier?”
Damn. She woman wasn't stupid. When I had my happy home with wife and son at my side, there were no doubts about what I really did, and who I really worked for. She'd never come out and said as much.
It hadn't mattered 'til my damned job slammed into my life and blew everything into a million pieces.
Weak or not, Izzy was holding out an honest olive branch. Did I have enough heart left to give her an honest answer?
“Yea
h, it does. The brain isn't made to hold in a bunch of traumatic shit. It's called survival. Soon as this is over, it'll seem like a bad dream, no different than all the jobs I've done. Buckle down and get her ready for me, Izzy. I want her dolled up. Make her look like a fucking woman tomorrow. Not a girl.”
She nodded, and stepped away. The cool air between us returned.
“Okay,” she whispered softly. “We'll do things your way. I throw my fits, but you know I trust you with this, don't you, Evan?”
“Yeah.” I turned and began to walk down the hall, before stopping near the stairs. After all this shit, the last thing I wanted was to sleep in my own bed. “Get some rest. We got another long day ahead.”
The goodnight she whispered followed me down the hall, but I wasn't stopping. I headed straight for the gym and ran myself ragged. If I couldn't blast my brain with melatonin and deep, dead darkness, then I'd do it with fire.
It was the next afternoon when my phone chirped. Always the same untraceable number. Right on schedule.
Borzia was a bastard and the thug, but a punctual one. I was in my little office, trying to hash out a schedule for Cassie's transformation on paper. I grabbed the phone and tapped the screen.
“She looks divine, Cole,” the Mexican said. “Just the kind of puta I love to destroy. You've made me a very, very happy man today. Of course, there's one nagging little thing...”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wondered if he was pissed about the marks her father left her, which still weren't fully healed. Or was it because I hadn't shaved her?
Sirens exploded in my head. This fucking animal already had me on edge talking about how he'd wreck my girl, and now there was a problem...
“What is it? What do you need? I'll fix it.” Those words were like mud leaving my mouth.
The thin smile he wore when I first saw him disappeared. “She isn't broken. The look in the whore's eyes screams defiance. If there's one thing I won't tolerate, Cole, it's a woman who has a shred of doubt that I'm her whole world. She needs to believe I'm her master. Especially if she's a virgin like you promised. If she's truly never been with a man, then it should be easy to make her mine, and mine alone. The passion, the resistance I see in these photos tells me you haven't done your job.”
