One Dirty Night

Strike.

“God, I’m sorry, Ella,” Nick moaned.

“So.”

Strike.

“Fucking.”

Strike.

“Sorry.”

Strike.

My tears turned to sobs as I did my best to run. I struggled and squirmed. I tried to throw myself to the side and get as far away from these sadists as possible.

But Hunter held me firm. Too firm. His fingers bruised me. His immense power kept me bound better than any rope or chain. “Don’t apologise to her,” Hunter snapped. “Set her free. She’s not there yet. If you stop now, she’ll hate you forever.” His mouth turned into a cruel smile. “Is that what you want? Her to hate you? If so, stop now, and you’ll get your wish. But if you want her to feel the same way you do about her, then—”

Strike.

The hardest one. The hottest one.

I couldn’t tell which lash hurt the most anymore. My back was no longer criss-crossed with lines of agony but ablaze in every spot.

“Nick…please,” I begged. “Don’t listen to him. I won’t hate you. I’d never—”

Strike.

I arched my back, screaming as the fire on my skin slowly sank into my blood.

Strike.

“Christ, I’ve never been so turned on,” Nick groaned. “I’ll never forget this.”

Strike.

“Never.”

Strike.

“Goddammit, you’re beautiful, Ella.”

Strike.

“I need to be inside you so. Fucking. Bad.”

Strike.

Pain.

Everywhere.

In my bones, my blood, my breath.

Fire ripped through me with vicious teeth, scorching my veins and sinking deep between my legs.

I tensed against it.