Chapter 23

He smooths his hand over the curve of my ass. "Fuck, I want this ass burning red."

"Yes please," I whimper—the anticipation is killing me.

He brings his hand down, and the sting is instant. Part of his hand hits the back of my pussy, and she comes to life, the greedy bitch pooling with wetness.

"Tell me why I'm spanking you."

"Because I was a bad girl," I say, and he hums in agreement, bringing his hand down again. My slick cunt sucks in air and that will be fun later.

"Anything else?" he asks.

"I didn't run to the safe room?" It's a question because I know I did what I needed to do. I would have died in the house if it meant the girls were safe.

Whack, whack.

Each strike is harder, and my ass burns, but I welcome the pain.

"I scared you," I say, taking a stab in the dark that he wants me to keep going.

"You did."

Whack.

He stands after the last hit, and I tumble to the floor. "Should filthy little sluts make me worry about them?"

I shake my head as he reaches down. He tangles his hand in my short hair, though it is nowhere near as rough as the day he dragged me back to the house after I tried to run.

"What was that? I can't hear you, and the only time I shouldn't be able to hear you is when you have my cock rammed down your throat."

"No, you shouldn't have to worry about me."

He releases my hair. "Take off my jeans and beg me to put my cock in your mouth."

Reaching up, I find his button is already undone, so I pull the zipper down and slide his jeans and boxers down his legs until he is able to step out of them.

"I want you in my mouth so badly," I purr, and he laughs softly, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock.

"You want this?" he asks, rubbing the tip and his precum across my lips.

"I want it so bad. Please fuck my mouth so hard I can't breathe."

"Since you asked nicely, open wide."

I open my mouth, and he guides his cock inside.

"Now close."

I do as he says, and he grabs my head to steady me as he thrusts in, testing how far he can go. I hum around him as he thrusts deeper, then I gag, but he doesn't care or possibly doesn't notice. Spit drips down my chin with every thrust, and my eyes water.

"Look at me," he demands. "Fuck. You are so fucking beautiful choking on me. Good little whores are rewarded. Touch yourself—I want you to cum when I do."

I slide my hand between my legs and rub my finger over my sensitive clit while he holds my head still and takes what he needs.

"Your throat is so warm, fucking whore. If I knew you were this good, I would have thrown my money at you sooner."

His words have me dripping down my legs, and as my orgasm builds, I slow my pace, waiting for him to give the sign he is going to come.

Just as I thought, he doesn't warn me, but having done this for years, I can tell when he is getting close. It's in the way his cock swells, his jerky movements, and the way his fingers tighten at the top of my cheekbones. His nails slightly digging into my skin will leave crescent moon shapes long after he is done. I let myself go as his cum spurts down my throat. He abruptly pulls back and guides me to my feet, still keeping hold of my face. He smashes his lips to mine, dominating our kiss as he walks us backward, and I let him lead until my back smashes against a wall, almost winding me. Darragh's hand travels down my neck until his fingers wrap around my throat. His mouth moves to cover my nipple, which he sucks on, biting down and then sucking it again, moving his tongue over the sensitive flesh.

When he pops off, he sucks my neck, repeating the same suck, bite, and lick from my neck down to my other breast.

When he is done, he spins me, pressing my face to the wall. "Damn, look at that ass," he says, pressing his body against mine. His hand runs down my crack, his finger rimming my ass, and I push back against it. I want him to throw me around the room, but I know he is testing me to see how fragile I am after today. Darragh isn't as bad as he makes himself out to be; deep down, he cares a lot.

"Stop pussyfooting around."

He removes his hand and grabs me by the back of the neck, his strong grip yanking me away from the wall. "You think you call the shots, hmm?"

He spins me to face the bed and shoves me forward, but I wasn't expecting it and trip, falling to my knees; the carpet burn on them will hurt like fuck tomorrow, yet right now I don't care. I move to stand up, but his foot comes down on my back, pushing me to the floor.

"You want my cock? Fight me for it. Show me what you can do. Hurt me."

In no world could I ever take him on and win, but I humor him. I roll to my side, and he lets me get to my feet. My heart thunders in my chest, the thrill turning me on way more than it should. I don't swing at him, as it would be way too obvious. Instead, I push my hands against his chest, and he takes a few steps back, his laughter echoing around the room.

"Is that all you have, you filthy little whore? How do you expect to fight off anyone with a push?"

Darragh takes a step closer, and my brain flashes to that night when those men stepped into the room. I run to the side table and grab the lamp, pulling the cord and launching it at him. He sidesteps, and the lamp crashes into the wall. He stalks toward me, and my frantic gaze snags on his boots sitting on the floor, the glint of his knife reflecting in the light. I scurry across the room and drop to my knees, pulling the switchblade from his boot. He grabs my leg and pulls me backward as I tuck the knife into my hand. It's not huge; it's the one he keeps sheathed his boot daily.

Bringing his large body down on mine, he flattens me to the floor, and his hand goes straight between my legs.

"You like it rough, don't you."

It's not a question, and he plunges two fingers inside me. He isn't careful or trying to bring me pleasure—he wants me to fight.

I moan—it wouldn't be the first time I have faked an orgasm—and push my ass up. He finger fucks me, and it gives me enough room to reposition my body while flicking the knife open. I swing my arm back and slash blindly at him.

"Fuck!" he roars.

Using all my strength, I buck him off and scramble to my feet as he stands to face me, holding his hand over a gash on his side. A sadistic smile spreads across his face as he prowls toward me, closing the distance between us. I panic when his large body rushes me, and he takes me back down to the floor face down, pain slicing through my body.

"You want me to bleed all over you?" he growls in my ear.

"Fuck you," I grit out, and he cackles.

"No, I will be fucking you," he says, placing a hand on my upper back and using the other to spread my ass open. The tip of his cock stabs inside my pussy, then his thumb sinks into my ass with no warning, and he applies pressure in a way that has me lifting my hips.

"Dirty whore, I pin you down and your body still wants me."

He pounds his cock deep inside me, again and again, the carpet acting like sandpaper against my skin.

"You're so fucking tight. That pussy clamping around my cock was made for me, wasn't it?"

"My pussy was made for you," I pant. "Fuck, don't stop, your cock fills me so well."

His thrusts get faster and his body weight pushes down on my spine, making it impossible to move until he pulls away. He grabs my arm and shifts his weight, then yanks me to my feet, spinning me and smearing his blood on me in the process.

"Up," he says, stepping into me.

I drape my arms around his neck and jump into his arms. His cock finds its home straight away as he walks us backward. My back hits the wall with a thud, his hand wrapping around my throat, and he squeezes. "New plan—you come before you pass out."

I nod, knowing I can say stop whenever I want, but right here, right now, I'm taking a piece of myself back. Fuck it, I'm not letting those assholes win and scare me from doing something I enjoy. I'm taking my power back.

Darragh resumes his punishing thrusts into me, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he squeezes my throat tighter. Instinct kicks in, and I grab at his hair, pulling his head back.

"Rip it out for all I care, but you don't have long," he taunts, angling his pelvis so it grinds my clit.

Stars form before my eyes—from lack of oxygen or the impending orgasm—and my climax hits me hard as I spasm around his cock. My vision blurs and my head falls forward as euphoria washes over my entire body. Everything tingles and a sensation overload hits me.

My limp body falls to the floor when he steps back. His cock is in his hand as he strokes himself above me, and tears fall from my eyes right before his cum hits the side of my face.

"Fuck, who would have thought my cum would look so good on a whore? You better stay filthy—you are mine tonight."

He moves backward as I attempt to catch my breath, and I close my eyes, trying to process what happened.

The click of the lock has my heart sinking—he can't leave me.

"It's okay, Love, I got you," Sullivan says a moment later, and he picks my body up off the floor and cradles me to his chest. He walks me into the en suite, flicking on the lights, then he runs the tap, but I keep my eyes closed until he grabs my chin and moves my head from side to side. As I blink my eyes open, he doesn't smile; he just brings a washcloth to my face and wipes Darragh's cum from my skin.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. He would have stopped if I asked him to, but I'm upset he left me."

Sullivan nods. "I was one second away from kicking the door in, but looking at the amount of blood in there, I'd say he has gone to get stitched up. So let's get you cleaned up and I'm sure he will be back. If he doesn't return, you always have me."

I nod, and Sullivan rinses the washcloth, holding my hand as he wipes the smears of blood from my body.

"Can you take me back to bed for a bit?" I ask when he's finished removing the blood. "I don't want to shower just yet."

"Of course, Love."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I snuggle in as Sullivan carries me to the bed. He pulls the covers back and gently places me down, pulling the sheet over me. Then he sits beside me and runs his hand slowly over my hair.

"I love you, Harper," he whispers as my eyes fall closed.

The bed dipping beside me wakes me, and I know it's Darragh when he pulls my body back into his.

"Sorry I took so long, but I didn't want to bleed to death. You got me good, and Cian made sure fixing it hurt. You did so fucking well. I should have been the one taking care of you afterward, but I'm glad you had Van." He kisses my neck. "You're perfect—I only wish I told you sooner."

I smile to myself, unsure how I got here, but I'm so glad I did. I should have known running from these men wasn't what I wanted. How did four strangers know me better than I knew myself? Maybe because I was lost and didn't know who I was. That Harper was who she thought she had to be to survive, and now she is long gone.