Twisted Together - Winters Pepper - Страница 86

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Lynx clapped his hands. “That’s it. Use her, Mercer. Let yourself go. You know you want to. Look how much your cock wants to.” He pressed on the girl’s neck, forcing her to sink lower, swallowing all of me—right to the base.

Fuck. Me.

My eyes wanted to roll. My balls wanted to explode. My heart wanted to fucking die.

The beast inside bayed in rapture—finally it said—finally I get a taste of the life I’ve always wanted.

It didn’t compute to the inner bastard inside that this was all against my will. I was the victim—just as much as she.

Her head bobbed up and down, her nose pressing against my belly.

“Stop. Just please—stop.” My quads tensed as the monster inside stole all decency. It wanted her. It wanted to abuse her. It wanted to come. So. Fucking. Bad.

I can’t!

I’m better than that. I’m better than him.

My stomach clenched with nausea. I was sick, an adulterer, the worst kind of man.

Her mouth increased pressure, her fingers circling below, grabbing my balls.

Two urges ran like raging rapids in my blood. One was the master I always kept buried who wanted to thrust into this slave and take. The other screamed for retribution. I wouldn’t stoop to his level—not even if it meant I might save my worthless fucking excuse for a life.

Tess deserved better. I would happily sign my death warrant if it meant I never had to cheat or lie or steal.

“Make him come, girl. Hurry up.” Lynx dictated her speed, wrenching her up and down by her hair, faster and faster until the prickles and tingles of an orgasm grew unwillingly in my blood.

My eyes widened as the beast growled inside, salivating at the thought of painting this slave’s throat in a way I’d never done.

I’d been so strong. Always saying no. Turning down offers. Refusing to destroy women.

You’re breaking every code you live by.

A groan tore from my lips as the suction from her mouth grew. The intensity of the inner fight between me and demon radiated outward. I fought harder, tearing my arms.

It didn’t do any good.

“Suck. Faster, girl!” Dante never took his eyes off my undoing as my hips surged upward involuntarily. Handing control over to the monster inside—the monster I wasn’t strong enough to fight.

The girl’s tongue swirled around the tip. So different to Tess. So unskilled and unloving compared to Tess.

My eyes burned with self-hatred. A ripple of pre-cum worked up my shaft. The girl worked harder, tasting the end, working me closer to the finish line.

The two men holding me chuckled, relaxing their hold. For a moment I hung suspended in a horrible place of ignoring my inner righteousness and coming.

It would be so easy. One thrust. Possibly two. Into the hot, wet, slippery mouth of the girl using me.

But I wouldn’t be able to live with the aftermath. I’d never forgive myself. I’d never be able to look Tess in the eye again and believe I had any goodness left for her.

The girl swivelled her head, a slice of teeth hurtling me closer to coming.

I let the monster free—but not to climax. To hunt.

Ripping my arms from the men, I kicked up at the same time. My knee connected with the girl’s chest, sending her sprawling to the floor. My glistening hard cock stood like a traitor between my legs but I didn’t give a fucking damn because all I wanted was Lynx to die. Horribly. Drastically. Excruciatingly.

I hurled myself at him, sending us both to the floor. The orgasm that lived in my body switched to lustful need for his death.

We rolled, punching, shouting. He fought hard but he didn’t have a beast riding him—a beast that desperately wanted to come and now was fucking angry.

Lynx’s bodyguards dragged me off him, slamming me onto my back. Dante scrambled to his feet, throwing a painful kick to my ribs. “You’re a dead man. Fucking dead—you hear me?”

I shrugged. “I already was. Least this way I can die knowing I kept my morals.” My eyes landed on the girl. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, holding her stomach where I kneed her.

“Je suis desolee. Ce n’est pas toi.” I’m sorry. It wasn’t you. I did up my trousers, tucking away the piece of my body that’d almost ruined me.

Her hazel eyes widened. I doubted she understood, but at least I’d said what I needed to. It would haunt me that I wasn’t able to save her.

Turns out, I couldn’t even save myself. Playing along with Lynx’s games should’ve been easy—if it wasn’t for the sins in my soul just waiting to strike me down. I couldn’t afford to enter the darkness. I couldn’t afford to slip—regardless if it meant life or death.

I wouldn’t save my life by doing the one thing that would destroy it. Not when I’d planned on getting married tomorrow. Not when I’d had some small chance at getting into heaven.

Shoving the two idiots away from me, I stood. Facing Dante, I ignored the pain in my thigh, thankful at least that soon I wouldn’t have to suffer the slick heat from the wound. “Enough. Let’s get this over with.”

Lynx clenched his jaw, his eyes tight with rage. “Fine, you fucking pussy. Let’s move this conversation downstairs.”

Four hours fifty-nine minutes.

My time had officially run out.

My eyes refused to open.

Every sense honed in on one particular pain. An excruciating agony in the back of my skull. Pounding, clanging, throbbing.

I groaned, needing to investigate the wound, needing to touch it—to try and alleviate the pain.

But I couldn’t move.

Nothing obeyed.

Panic opened my eyes.

My vision was hazy, unfocused, especially in my right pupil. What the fuck happened?

“Ah, you’ve finally decided to stop sleeping away your final minutes, Mercer.” Lynx appeared, but all I saw were his crimson shoes.

I frowned, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Blinking hard, I forced my eyesight to make sense of something that made no sense at all.

I’m upside down.

Clenching my stomach muscles, I arched upright, taking note of my bound and very naked body. Black ropes wrapped around my ankles, tethering me to the ceiling. The gunshot in my thigh looked awful and bloody. My arms were lassoed to my sides, coiled tightly with twine.

Hot lacing terror filled my heart. “Wh—what?” My swollen tongue couldn’t form syllables. It felt as if I’d bitten it again. “Tell—”

Lynx laughed. “If you’re trying to figure out how you came to be hanging in the same dungeon you were invited to enjoy an orgy in, then I can clarify.” His hand struck out, stroking my chin almost tenderly. “I pushed you down the stairs. You hit your head pretty hard at the bottom. Smashed a tile.” He tutted as if I’d ruined his entire decor. “However, passing out you gave us the great advantage of preparing you like this with no other issues or complications.” He patted my cheek. “Thanks for that.”

My chest rose and fell as adrenaline turned me from rational to drunk on the need to run or fight or both. I never took my eyes off Dante as he snapped his fingers, silently ordering two men to place a small table beside my head. On it rested a small towel and a row of buckets of water.

I gulped—not that it worked hanging upside down. The pressure of vertigo made the ache in my neck and residue unconsciousness scream for mercy.

In the distance hung a sex swing with ropes, pulleys, and a wall groaning with sexual torture equipment. The cold black tiles of the floor and the chains looping from the ceiling made it seem as if I’d stepped back in time. I’d woken in a nineteenth century torture chamber.

“You came for me, Q. You saved me from them.”

My eyes snapped closed at the memory of finding Tess in Rio. Those conditions had been worse. If she survived that I could survive this.

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