Pain

by Amanda Mackey

  Desperate to slake this thirst, I walked around the back of the building and into a thicket of trees to gain some privacy.

  Unbuttoning my jeans, I had my hand down my pants and my cock pulled out in record time. I groaned at the contact, pumping the weighty, engorged shaft of nerves, needing to come until there was nothing left.

  Throwing my head back onto the rough bark all I could see was the frightful determination in a pair of stunning eyes that called to the sick bastard residing within. She’d been hot for that part of me. No denying it. I’d smelled her slick arousal and seen her need.

  Yeah. That mouth would fit around my dick so perfectly, gripping me with her firm, prime lips while I wound her hair around my fists, controlling all her movements.

  My hand massaged the bulbous tip of my erection, giving it plenty of attention as I began shoving my hips backwards and forwards in the frantic effort to shatter into splintered fragments.

  The feeling of her thundering pulse under my fingertips and her fragile windpipe at my mercy fed my sickness and pushed me further toward orgasm. My cock was connected to my brain, and whatever depraved fantasies came to light surged more blood into the oversized, rigid muscle.

  Grunts that I desperately tried to muffle became lengthened, labored cries as the deep ecstasy began working its way from the very base of my cock. It speared through my tight balls and into my ass, causing me to see spots behind my closed eyes. Saturated in pleasure, the sick image of my virgin asshole being ripped into as I was held down by prisoners drove my sphincter muscles into a frenzy as I fell to my knees and brutally came in a thick concoction of pain and overwhelming bliss. Jets of fluid spewed out from my pulsing dick onto the grass. My loins contracted over and over.

  “Motherfucker. Soooo good. Uh. Uh. Mmmm.” A hiss and then and exhale. “Yeahhh.”

  Everything was pulsing to the rhythm of my heart until I heard my name.

  “Justice?”

  Fucking princess. She was calling for me, probably thinking I’d stormed off to the house again like I had earlier. I took a few deep breaths and shoved my still semi-hard cock back into its rightful place and ambled back to where I should have been waiting.

  Her surprised face reddened slightly. “Oh, there you are. Is everything all right? You look like you’ve been running a marathon.”

  Indeed. “Yep. Just had to let off some steam.”

  “You ready to go? Dad’s back. Nate’s going to keep checking on Mia and the cubs, which means we can head back to the house. It’s way past lunch time, so we need to get you fed and then I’ve got some dinner preparations to tend to.”

  It had certainly been an eventful few hours so far, and it was only my first day. I couldn’t help but wonder what this evening would bring. After something to eat, I was going to take a nap. All my exertions had taken it out of me and released sleepy endorphins.

  We both got in the truck, but I was the only one that buckled up. One of us would be kept inside the truck if we crashed. Little Miss Firecracker seemed to think that she was invincible. Ballsy but delusional.

  The drive back had her trying to make polite conversation and me replying with one word answers.

  “What did you think of the new cubs?”

  “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I finally turned in her direction, caught slightly off-guard by her attempt to reprimand me. I tried to keep my face neutral even when hers was lit with disdain. I wasn’t prepared to give away anything that I hadn’t already. I was going to have to watch this girl. She was a straight shooter. Said things as they were. I could tell that much about her already, and it kind of scared the crap out of me. There was nowhere to hide. Like she could peel back my layers. Still, I wasn’t about to give her an inch. “What?”

  “You heard me. I think you were secretly impressed with what you saw back there. You just won’t acknowledge it. The miracle of life is astounding even to the most hardened of hearts, you included. Just admit it.”

  I didn’t like people, especially strangers, thinking they knew me even if she was one of the first people ever to try. “Don’t sit there all high and mighty assuming anything. What makes you think I give a flying fuck about this place? I’m here because I was forced into it. Prison is not my ideal place to live permanently. I’m doing this so I don’t have to go back to that hell hole.”

  “Fine. Keep telling yourself that nothing matters. Keep those barriers around you that were built to stop you feeling anything. Exist in your numb world. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. It’s you that’s missing out on the full experience of what it means to live. We’ve all had shit happen. That doesn’t mean we get to shut everything else out.”

  “Shut the fuck up. I mean it. Stop talking.” The switch on my rage had just been flicked. Yet beneath it all, from the depths of my black soul, stirred fleeting sensations akin to the conflict between good and evil. Like they were in battle with each other, but that was impossible because all of the goodness had been either beaten out of me or given freely in my loneliest and darkest of days in the cellar. I was a piece of scum who had deserved everything. Born to be bad. Nausea churned like a whirlpool in my gut at the glint of such a foreign emotion that could be likened to caring about anything.

  Lil thrust the brakes on and got out without a word, which was becoming our familiar routine already. She’d get used to it. This was who I was, and the sooner she accepted that, the better. If she didn’t, she could just go right to hell.

  Chapter Nine

  Lil

  Justice shut himself in his room, which suited me fine. Maybe he’d think about what I’d said. I wasn’t trying to change him in any way, but he needed to realize that there was still beauty all around him even if he couldn’t see it. He needed to be reminded, just like I had years ago. I couldn’t begin to imagine what living inside his head was like. I knew what my own head had been like for a long time but I was also proof that we didn’t have to let things beyond our control destroy us. There was plenty worth fighting for.

  Maybe my dad had put Justice in my care intentionally. Could I possibly have something to give to someone who had given up believing? Given up on hope? Did I want to take on such a lost cause? Only after noticing something within him that was so deep and buried did I consider that just maybe over the course of two months I could make a difference even if it was only minimal.

  I realized that Justice had gone to his room without even eating lunch. The cookies we’d consumed earlier had barely touched the sides of my own hunger, so after grabbing leftovers from last night’s one-pot wonder and heating it in the microwave, I practically inhaled it before setting to work preparing salads for dinner. I wondered if I should knock on his door to offer him some—after all, we were meant to be providing three square meals per day. Should I? No. He knew where the kitchen was. He could come ask for something.

  I was a stubborn female. I could freely admit it. I wasn’t clingy or needy in any way, and I guess that came from having to fend for myself from such a young age. If people needed anything from me, I expected them to ask and not wait for me to offer.

  What I was curious about though was what made people tick. I liked to try and figure them out. Justice, for example. I don’t believe he was born bad. I believe he was a victim of circumstance and the environment he had been raised in. What had caused him to derail? What was his story?

  I suddenly wondered if anything in that small backpack he’d carried with him contained any hints from his past or had he wiped his slate clean.

  I stopped giving a fuck long ago when I was treated the same way as your precious animals.

  His words had replayed in my mind more than once. Just what did they mean? Abuse? Neglect? Abandonment? All of the above? Curiosity had me needing to find out. His voice had been thick with emotion. Anger had definitely been there but something else too. Turmoil, I think. Damn male! He was infuriati
ng and obnoxious. Rude and overbearing. I’d been highly strung all day and not just from the way his attitude sucked. No. It most definitely had an inkling to do with the brokenness within him and the devastatingly hot exterior that was getting me so agitated. A multi-faceted package wrapped up in perfect finery. I tried not to dwell on the thought of licking that scar that ran down the length of his jaw or wonder what sounds he’d make with his dusky voice during sex. God. That word alone brought with it a whole new set of adjectives. Raw. Angry. Brutal. Wild. What was wrong with me, and why were those words triggering my libido to rise from the ashes?

  My structured routine had been turned into chaos ever since this morning, and I needed to let out some frustration. Tossing a lettuce onto the chopping board and nabbing the sharpest knife I could find, I set about butchering it, slamming the blade through it again and again until it looked like it had been put through a grinder. Next came the tomatoes and carrots, each enduring their own punishment.

  Hearing the usual knock in the pipes from the water being switched on, I guessed the bane of my existence was taking a shower and hadn’t been sucked into a black hole. Not good timing on his behalf, considering where my thoughts had been. And it was the poor celery that suffered because of it. My slices were hard and quick. If a finger had accidentally got in the way, I would have lost it for sure. I was so focused on not picturing a certain someone dripping wet under the hot spray that I cut through a whole bunch of celery unnecessarily. I’d only meant to use two sticks, but the giant mound sitting on the wooden board proved that I was starting to lose it.

  I threw half into a clean bowl and covered it, tossing the rest in with the other vegetables before placing the salad in the refrigerator.

  Dad was out back cleaning the BBQ grill, and Daniel hadn’t returned yet. Nate would head down from the rescue center in the next hour or so. Mia was going to be moved into a bigger room within the building so we could keep an eye on her and the cubs for a few more days.

  Everything had gone like clockwork, and we had all earned our night of celebration. Speaking of which, I needed to go shower and change. I was still in the clothes I had baked cookies in, and some of the mixture had dried in my hair. No one had mentioned it to me probably because there had been too much excitement.

  The water had been turned off after only a few minutes, which meant Justice was done. Hopefully he’d left me some hot water.

  Making my way to my room to grab clothes, I decided on a pair of tight black denim jeans, chunky heeled leather boots that rose above my ankles but below the knees, a tight grey spaghetti strap top that probably showed off way too much cleavage, and an oversized matching grey woolen jacket that zipped up the front. It was meant to be quite cool tonight, so I wanted to dress accordingly.

  Piling everything into my arms, I exited my room and headed for the bathroom, which was situated halfway down the hall. I was almost there when the door swung open and a naked, ripped body froze with just a small hand towel in front, covering up a package that, judging by the rest of him, would be equally as impressive.

  I was rooted to the spot, unable to steal my wide eyes from the contours of a seriously worked chest and prominent abdominals. One side of his torso was draped in ink. A masterpiece, even by my standards. Barbs appeared to dig into his skin as they twisted up like gnarly shackles, painted blood dripping from certain jagged points that I could have sworn were actually penetrating his flesh. Behind that morphed an eerie face, grotesque and elongated, screaming. Eyes flaming. Tortured.

  Flitting my gaze everywhere I could find bare skin, I was stunned into a gaping stupor, drooling like a fool. This sizeable creature with beastly qualities was in my hallway, and for the first time ever, I was speechless. The clothing I was holding had quickly been squeezed into a wrinkled tangle of fabric. The rigid terrain of his very male physique tightened further under my examination.

  I didn’t dare find his eyes, because as it was, I was teetering somewhere between hyperventilation and catatonia. A sharp, rather embarrassingly high snort left my throat as he attempted to break through my haze.

  “Where do you keep your towels? I could only find this scrap of a thing that’s barely big enough to cover my jewels.”

  The words didn’t compute. I couldn’t remember how to speak. My brain had officially left the building. I blinked and then blinked again.

  His nipples were standing at attention atop finely shaped pecs, goading me with their rigidity. Pink buds of arousal.

  Dear, sweet God, you’ve outdone yourself this time.

  The smooth, dripping wet dream was moving closer and still I couldn’t raise my eyes higher than his hefty shoulders that had trails of moisture trickling a path to equally impressive biceps. Engorged veins traveled the entire length of his arms, further accentuating the power that lay beneath.

  “Princess?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Towels?”

  I was cross-eyed—he was that close—so I shut my eyes, hoping the image of his very nude body would disappear the second my lids closed. Of course, that didn’t happen. It was seared into my retinas and memory bank for all of time.

  Somehow I pointed to the wall opposite the bathroom. “Cupboard.” I didn’t know if he had glanced to where I indicated and quite frankly, I didn’t care.

  My breathing was inconsistent, my hands squeezing the life out of my clothes. I wasn’t sure what the hell was wrong with me. I just needed to get into the bathroom and lock the door. What was he doing standing over me, taking up the whole width of the hall?

  “Do I scare you now, sweetheart?”

  Oh yes, but not in the way he was thinking. The danger that was written not only on his skin by the way of ink, scars, and a piercing, but in his dark sexual energy, had me balancing on a razor sharp blade of self-control.

  “Yes.”

  Slight pain tore at my scalp as he seized a wad of my hair and yanked it back so I would raise my face to his. Stubborn as I was, I fought looking at him, squeezing my lids tighter in an act of rebellion.

  “Let me see your fear. I can feel it. Now! I want to see it. Open those fucking eyes for me!”

  On my grandmother’s grave, I didn’t want to do it, but the very curiosity that had me wanting to delve into his past was winning along with the sting along my hairline.

  Part of me needed to witness the broken part of him that was raging in his dramatic, sizzling eyes, and so I let mine fall open and then drift up. Too close. He was way too close. As I focused on the darkened orbs that both frightened and excited me, I certainly wasn’t disappointed. Fire and ice. Two opposites yet each one deadly. Sexy as all get out.

  He siphoned in a breath, swelling with the effort before letting my hair go and bringing his large hand to my jaw so his thumb could work backwards and forwards along my lower lip.

  Dirty thoughts stirred. Heinous pictures of crazy, ferocious sex. Teeth. Nails. No inhibitions. Free. Oh Mama. I was going straight to hell. The shadow world was tempting me. Just one little taste. That was all I wanted. It wasn’t much. Opening my mouth slightly, I allowed him entry, using my lips and tongue to latch onto his thumb and pull it into my mouth, where I sucked, teeth scraping along his skin. Remnants of soap lingered.

  We hadn’t broken our stare. He was daring me to “tempt the tiger,” as he’d so eloquently put it earlier, and I was more than willing.

  His jaw braced and some primal, sorrowful warning was pulled eerily low from his dark soul, luring me further into his thrall, causing me to bite down on his thumb.

  “Harder. Fuck!” he coaxed, as his other hand came up to powerfully grip the side of my head. “Pain, princess. Give me more pain. Make it hurt.”

  He was actually getting off on it. The way his eyes glazed over and he moaned. I’d never hurt anyone intentionally in the past. That wasn’t how I’d been raised. The idea of knowingly causing another to suffer had never entered my head…until now. In the last few moments of watching and hearing him react to my bi
te, reveling in it the way he was, knowing I was the cause, had me wondering how much he could take and how much I could give. I seemed to hold all the power. This was wrong on every level. My panties were stuck to me, and if I didn’t put an end to this madness, I would probably let him pull me into his depraved world. I seriously needed to get a grip.

  Glancing down, I was shocked to see he too was sexually affected and astoundingly hard. At some, point he’d dropped the flimsy covering and had his hand fisting a very substantial cock. I pulled away, embarrassed at the brazen actions on both of our behalf.

  With his thumb torn from my mouth, he hissed, eyes half-closed. I didn’t wait for his words but pushed as hard as I could against his chest, praying that my eyes would stay northbound.

  “Get away from me. What are you doing?” As if it were all his fault, I hit my palm against his immovable chest again, which seemed to shake him into some form of normalcy. He bent down, picked up his scrap of cloth, and turned, skulking to the cupboard. He snatched a towel out and then stormed into his room. The door closed with a bang.

  My heart decided to start working again, allowing me the strength to hit the bathroom, locking the door and sliding down against it, throwing my clothes to the side.

  Damn. Damn. Damn. That was so stupid. The kid hadn’t been here a day, and I acted so out of character. Banging my head on the door a couple of times, I screwed my face up. This couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it. I wasn’t some sick puppy that got off on pain and brutality. I wasn’t easily enticed. I was normally strong-willed. So why then was the erotic tension inside me coiling so tightly that all I could think about was Justice in his room with a monster of a boner?