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Chapter 4

ELI

Ithought I was going to melt. I was so full.

I couldn't feel anything apart from the hard concrete on my cheek and his cock in my ass.

I was nearly crying. Everything was so fierce and frantic, and exactly what I needed.

"You're such a little whore for me, aren't you?" Caleb snapped as he thrust into me again.

Heat burst through me and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I pushed my palms flat against the wall of our closet, curving my back, meeting each thrust with one of my own.

I needed him deeper. I needed him so deep inside there was nothing left of me but him.

"The only whore here is you," I grunted as I adjusted my hips. "You're so desperate for my ass you practically came in your pants as soon as you saw me."

The response came quickly, and I knew it would.

Harsh fingers buried into my hair, a tense tug as he tore my head back, forcing it against his shoulder with his cock still shoved in me.

"What the fuck did you just say?" he snarled, the hot brush of his breath against my throat setting me alight.

"I said, you're a thirsty little bitch," I coughed.

His growl was perfect. With his chest pressed to my back, it echoed through me like a bell signalling my time had come. And then, my punishment.

Grabbing my hips, he drove into me so fast my vision went black. I couldn't even yell. All that came out was a strangled noise of pleasure before his mouth descended on me and he bit into my shoulder. The harsh sting was a clear reminder of why I was there.

I found a truck stop and parked up for an hour, just staring at the pictures, absorbing every fine detail. Lacey's hair was blonder than I remembered, the summer sun brightening it, along with her cheerful giggles as she held my dad's hand, dancing down the street in her new green dress. Both of them were happy, relaxed, and safe. She looked so much like Martha it ached to even think of her. I didn't want her to know what really happened to her mother.

And I was using him to forget. Caleb was here because he wanted a fuck, and I was a willing victim.

But I needed him to be angrier.

"You actually going to use that thing?" I asked, my voice strained with the stretch of my throat. "Or are you just going to stand there rubbing inside me like you've never fucked before?"

I choked out a laugh as his grip tightened on my hips, my skin numb from how hard he held me. This time, he drew back, and I fell for him as he picked up speed.

I'd made him fuck me from behind this time. I didn't want to see his face when I felt like this. Because I wanted him to kiss me, and touch me, and love me in a way that made this somehow worth it. I couldn't let him in; I wanted comfort, and it was too dangerous to take it from him. I was meant to be dead inside. I was meant to feel nothing unless I was killing. When I looked at those pictures of Lacey my resolve to murder the rest of the Donelli's responsible for our pain wavered. She was so innocent that I didn't want to add any more blood to her legacy. And this was the consequence. I couldn't put her in danger, so instead, I wanted comfort from a man I'd sworn to kill.

I hated being so vulnerable. I didn't even realise I was relying on him until I arrived back at the compound and went straight to him. I didn't have to say anything, one look and he could just tell I needed to fight and fuck.

Fucking Caleb, killing his family, leaving my daughter. So wildly different things, except they were all the same. Because it was proof of how low I had fallen, and I had further to go.

How long would it take me to hit the ground?

We were both dressed. All we'd done was rip our clothes as we brawled. We couldn't even last ten minutes in the ring in the empty gym. By the time our heart rates had picked up, we were already flying towards our closet. Now our pants were around our ankles, our shirts ripped open and hanging loose around us, my bare feet freezing on the floor.

I was lost in him; moaning, shaking, and writhing about, letting him take full charge of me. He crushed me to his chest and I swear I could feel the imprint of his abs on my lower back.

One push inside me, opening me up, his cock sliding slowly and deeply enough to ruin my senses.

Hand off the wall, I grabbed the back of his neck to force him down to me. My head on his shoulder, his lips near mine, we watched each other as we rocked together, our breaths blending as we held each other. "Caleb," I gasped as every hidden scar that pummelled me daily, the ones I tried to keep at bay, they all reared to the surface as my throat bobbed and I held back my cry.

I dragged his lips to mine, longing for his taste. He was meant to beat me, hurt me, treat me like the scum I was.

I trembled against him, sagging back, letting him carry my weight. It was too hot and heady, and it burned so sweetly that I let go for him, let go in the way I did whenever I watched his family die.

As I softened into him, he groaned against me, sinking into the kiss, his tongue massaging mine as I strived to keep him close. No fighting, no snarky responses or looks of loathing, just us.

I'd tucked the envelope with the photos into my breast pocket before I drove off, and they charred a hole in my heart the whole ride back to the compound before I hid them in the glove compartment of my car. I'd heard Lacey's laugh, her childish shouts of pure joy as Martha swung her into her arms and held her close, as well as memories of her curious smiles, her tantrums, her beautiful inquisitiveness. And it was all gone because of Caleb and his family - and because of me.

I shuddered under Caleb as he responded with frenzied grasps, his hand flying from my hip to pin his forearm against my stomach, keeping me in place.

But it only made the throbbing ache of my heart even worse. He pulled back, our lips parting, his grip on my hair easing, watching me with an intensity I didn't want to see. "Eli," he said, his voice low, his gentle pants sweeping my lips. And that broke me more than it saved me.

Eyes wide, a small noise sounded from the back of my throat. It hurt too much to look at him. I had to dip my chin to stop myself from falling into him. I couldn't do this. This wasn't why I was here.

"Stop," I whispered, the most vulnerable I'd ever been with him. I'd shown him my anger, and the loathing that was as natural to me as breathing. I never showed anyone the shattered part of me, the real thing I was running from.

He shifted his hips, teasing me, my back arching as he sunk his cock deeper into me.

And, this time, he didn't move. His arm kept me firm, and it didn't matter how much I tried to buck against him, to get him to thrust again with his vicious hate, he refused to let me go.

I choked at how good it was to just be together, and I submitted, letting him carry me. No hate or pain, just the two of us, the realest we had ever been together. But I couldn't let it go on.

Snapping my hand away, I pushed off of him, twisting my head away from him as I slammed my palms against the concrete. "Is that the best you've got?" I chuckled darkly, my head down. "You think you're going to get anything done like that? Why the fuck did I even come here if you're just going to stay still?"

I swallowed my pain, keeping it close. I refused to feel this, I wasn't going back to a place where despair ruled me. I killed to meet my pain head on, to show those fuckers I refused to drown under the weight of what they did to me.

He still held me, leaning over me, keeping his chest against my back, but I jerked my hips, focusing on his cock rather than the endless grief clawing at my chest when I let my guard down, demanding to be free.

"You think that's my best," he growled close to my ear, and I bit my tongue to stop the shiver dashing through me. "Eli." His teeth grazed the top of my spine and I moaned. "You've had my cock in you enough times to know this is nothing."

I looked down at myself, my cock aching, leaking, legs trembling, and the tails of my shirt hanging around my thighs, as if wearing a shirt made this any better. "Then show me, Caleb," I said quietly, so aware of his gaze on my back. "Fuck me like you hate me."

A harsh hiss ripped from him and he stilled behind me, my ass open, bottomed out inside me. He stopped, and I groaned in protest as I looked over my shoulder to discover what expression he was making, but his face was shadowed. This couldn't end now. I needed more.

"What's wrong?" I gasped, pressing up onto the balls of my feet before sticking out my ass, grinding against him, giving him better access. I wondered if he was teasing me, but his heat left my back, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Caleb?" I said, twisting fully to face him. "What's wrong?"

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