of silver from hitting my head so hard. Then, there was the drip, drip, drip of my wet hair onto my naked back. The soaked strands clung to my cheeks and lashes. Every time I blinked, it felt like sand was scratching across my eyes. With my hands tied behind my back, I couldn’t pull the hairs out of them. I couldn’t rub them to make them feel better. I couldn’t even shake my head with his hand gripping my throat.
He’d taken my clothes off again. He’d bathed me.
“I’m just going to use you as a landing pad for my cum.”
My stomach churned as I thought about what else might be on my skin.
“No,” I finally said. “I haven’t—ow!”
Something clamped down on my nipple. It wasn’t sexual, like Garin’s fingers, or titillating, like his teeth. This was spiked like a barbed wire, and the points were piercing my skin.
“Why are you hurting me?” I cried.
“Wrong question.”
“What—”
He slapped my face so hard that my front teeth bit through the end of my tongue, and my mouth filled with blood. The copper taste didn’t mix well with my stomach, and I gagged. It was just enough of a heave to stir the acid in my stomach, and as it rose to my throat, he pushed my face to the side, so it wouldn’t get on him.
The heartless fucker didn’t even give me a break while I purged. He slapped the back of my head, like it would make the vomit come out faster.
“I’m done!” I yelled, my stomach empty, the back of my throat feeling as though he were holding a butane lighter to it. I licked the wetness off my lips and spit it out.
“I should make you swallow that.”
I wouldn’t taste it. My throat burned too badly, the fire masking all the flavors that were in my mouth.
He clasped something around my throat. It was as cold as ice, and it felt as though it had teeth, taking small little bites of my skin.
“Do you want me to make you swallow it? Scoop up everything you just puked on my floor and shove it down your fucking throat?”
I wasn’t sure I could give him an answer. Whatever was around my neck was squeezing tighter, wringing all the air out. Biting. Pinching.
Freezing me to death.
“Puta, do you want me to make you—”
“No!”
He laughed.
The sound made me never want to laugh again.
“It’s time.”
There was no warning. No flash of movement. Just his breath swishing through the air, past my face, and suddenly, I was in the air. He’d lifted the chair by the legs—this one obviously not bolted to the ground, like the other one had been—and as he roared, he threw me. I couldn’t scream, the vise on my throat was too tight. I couldn’t reach out to stop my face from hitting anything, as my hands were tied. I couldn’t see what I was headed for; it was too dark. So, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself for the fall.
Bang, bang…bang.
The chair banged against the floor. Each time it hit, the landing shook my body, made my muscles throb, sucked even more air out of me.
Kyle, breathe.
“Just how I want you—on your back with your legs spread.” He straddled my waist and sat on my stomach. “Puta, puta, puta, it’s time you ask the right question.”
My nostrils flared as I tried to breathe. With all of his weight on my belly, he was constricting even more of my air.
“Prove to me that you’re more than just a pretty face.”
“What do you want from me?”
I cried out as his fingernails stabbed my cheeks. They pushed in so far that my mouth opened, my tongue hanging past my bottom lip.
“Before you say another word, I want you to think. Stop fucking rambling, and think.”
He tightened the clamp on my nipple, but because of the way he was holding my mouth, I couldn’t scream. So, I whimpered and groaned and dripped tears down his fingers. None of it helped.
“You know why you’re here. You know why I put you in a cell with Garin.” He leaned forward and bit the end of my tongue. It was already so sore from when my teeth had stabbed it earlier.
The smell. The sensation. The pain.
I couldn’t take it.
I couldn’t breathe.
Just as the silvery stars started to return, he let up. But he didn’t release it. He wrapped his lips around my tongue and sucked it back and forth, like he was giving it