Chapter 6 Torture

Veil.

Tears rush down my face in a frenzy.

There's nothing gentle about the way he's taking me.

His thrusts are deep, brutal. It severs my grip on control, and I'm left a wailing mess.

Quin's beast is lost in the throes of pleasure. It's evident in the powerful slam of his hips on mine, the lengthening of his phallus with each dip he takes in my pussy.

He's stretching me impossibly wide, the slimy saliva dripping from his mouth drops in the point we're connected, making his thrusts easy but painful nonetheless.

I'm ripped off of any thought except what's currently happening to me, I'm having sex with the man I once hated, no, his beast, which hated me just as much.

He's the last man I'd ever willingly be with.

The boy who showed me hell.

The boy who drove me to the edge of insanity.

Every groan that spills from his beast's mouth is a reminder of his taunting words back in high school.

A reminder of his voice that spat nothing but venom at me.

My nails bite hard into the stone floor. I scrape the ground, feeling the pains I'm inflicting on myself, but I don't care. I just want to get away.

I hate him so much.

I want to get out and run as far away from him as possible, to run as far away from this hell as possible.

Hence, I try to scramble away, but he moves every inch with me, lodging himself inside me with a purr.

Like, disconnecting from me will make him drown.

He's holding onto me like I'm his lifeline.

"I hate you! I hate you so much!!" I cry out, forcing my body to move away.

It's so painful.

At this point, I don't know if the pain is coming from his brutal thrusts or from the memories of our past.

All I know is that I can't stand this. I can't stand him.

Another feline purr comes from him. Louder this time, it shakes my core.

The moment he let out that purr, my belly flips.

There's a strange undertone to it, but I can't seem to decipher it, not while my mind is messed up.

Tears blur my vision even as I still attempt to put some distance between us. I've read about people sleeping with their mates in their beast forms, but I never once thought I'd experience it.

Strangely, I'm not doing it with my mate but with my enemy.

Rio sentenced me to the worst death possible.

The pain worsens as he stretches me wider, dominating my walls and leaving me open.

For the past three years, I've not had sex at all. I never imagined the first sex I'd have would be something this savage.

Our kind is not meant to stay that long away from sexual intercourse, especially women. It closes our walls and pleasure glands, which prevents our rut. Our heat.

Pleasure becomes extinct; it'll no longer be felt. Getting wet becomes impossible.

Right now, I'm so dry. My cunt isn't gushing any fluid.

Ryder gave me no choice, and I lived with my fate.

That's why this is nothing but cruelty to me.

My belly burns when I feel him slam into me again and again.

I weep, chanting the goddess's name like a prayer.

Please, somebody, help me.

I move again.

This time, I managed to get away.

I scramble to the wall and curl in on myself, my hair damp and matted to my forehead.

My body is shaking terribly hard as I look into his amber eyes.

He bares his maw, fangs filling my view. He growls both in pain and frustration. His paw-hand swishes through the air, trying to reach out for me.

"No...please..." I wail, shooting out my hands to block the attack.

My heart is drumming insanely fast against my ribcage. This is horror.

"I can't do this. You're my worst enemy. You can't get what you want from me." Jumbled words rush out of my mouth.

He snarls into my face, his face now at my eye level.

I flinch when he lifts his paw-hand to my face.

Oh, seven seas, he wants to crush me now?

The panic sets in, increasing the rate of the terror I feel. The shake of my body.

I brace myself for death, eyes closed.

A minute passes. Two minutes while the song of death is on repeat in my mind, and yet the pain that comes from being crushed doesn't overwhelm me.

What I feel is a feather-light touch on my cheek, wiping the waters away slowly. Gently.

The tempo of my heart increases instead of reducing.

What's this?

Gentleness?

Quin can never be associated with gentleness. Impulsive, yes. Brutal and savage, even, but never this.

I pop my right eye open when his hand falls from my face and meet the emotionless eyes of the feral beast staring into my face.

My lips part, and I exhale through them, watching him.

He purrs in my face, looking at me.

'Why...did you stop?' My mouth moves, but the question doesn't come out. It's stuck in my throat as I hold his stare.

His hand comes up again, to my hair this time. He grabs some strands and flicks his fingers through them as if he's studying them.

Even though he doesn't need to bring it to his nose to perceive my scent, he does it anyway, inhaling my scent. The sound of his intake of breath breaches the silence of the cellar.

Suddenly, he drops my hair. He looks me in my face, fangs bared as if ready to tear into my flesh right away.

He steps backward, eyes still on me.

I'm still shaking. Confusion marring my features.

Did...he recognize me?

Is that...possible?

His loud roar snaps through my brain, interrupting my thought process. My hands cover my ears.

Something is wrong with him, and I don't know what it is.

But if this is what I think it is, if Quin has recognized me, then this will turn worse than it already is. My death won't be quick. It'll be agonizing. The kind that'll haunt me even on the other side.

I prepare for his next action, waiting for him to stop roaring.

When I notice he's stopped, I remove my hands from my ears and look back up at him.

His dick is still hard and red at the tip, beading with his precum.

It bobs as he whirls around to face me, danger glimmering in his eyes. A silent promise of agony.

My throat tightens when he begins to take a step toward me, his tail's poise lethal.

"No...no..." I whimper, shaking my head as he closes the gap between us. Blood rushing through me, cinching my lungs.

Then I feel it.

Two powerful paw-hands haul me up. The breath in my lungs whooshes out in a sharp rush.

I expect him to throw me against the walls. I'm mentally prepared for it, not physically.

But on the contrary, the beast pulls me into his broad chest, closing his powerful arms around my frame.

His feet thump like boulders on the floor as he carries me through the cell into his inner chamber, a small, dim space with an oblong stone stool that can as well serve as a bed.

He lays me on it nicely, the movement a contrast to the roar he'd let out, the hard gaze he gave me, and the way he'd fucked me.

Of course, my heart is still beating hard, adrenaline racing through my blood.

Confusion, that's what I feel.

What is he doing?

Why did he bring me here? To butcher me?

To make a meal out of me?

I watch him pace like a beast protecting his territory, eyes still on me.

What in seven seas is going on here?

There's this struggle between deciphering his actions and closing my eyes to sleep going on inside me.

I choose to stay awake, watch him pace, and unravel his actions and thoughts.

In the first few minutes, it works.

But the ache I feel in my body, the hard throbbing of my cunt from his earlier torture, draws sleep faster to my eyes.

I try to fight it. I do.

Yet nature wins, dragging me under before I know it.

Even though I'm fast asleep, I can feel the beast's eyes on me.

He's watching, pacing, purring all for a reason I don't know yet, but I know I'm not safe.

Not with Quin, not with his beast.

I can never be safe until...

Tbc