Tame his Beast - Claire C. Riley Page 0,15
nurse’s uniform was two sizes too big for her and did nothing for her figure so I couldn’t work out if she was hot as hell under it or built like a child.
“No, Belle, what’s likely to kill me is men like me. You see, men like me, we do things to other people—people we don’t like. We hurt them, make them feel so much pain that they wish for death because it’s a better option than staying alive. And then we go have a beer afterwards and fuck a woman. You feel me?” I said my words slowly and carefully, accentuating each one. Bitch surprised me by shaking her head no, and the prospect snorted out a laugh. I was gonna kill that kid if he didn’t fuck off.
“The drugs are keeping me alive, Belle,” I said darkly, “so get out of the fucking way, now.”
She huffed, unsure what to do then, and I knew that it was a matter of wills. Hadn’t expected her to stand up to me, but that was okay; I liked them feisty like that, and I was going to enjoy breaking her.
Belle finally stepped to one side, her shoulders slumping in defeat and her gaze slipping from mine. “Fine, but you’ll only feel worse afterwards,” she mumbled.
“That’s my problem then, isn’t it.”
Prospect came forward and gave me a hit and I groaned in response, happy as a pig in shit as the dull throb of pain ebbed and flowed away. This was the only release I got. The only time I got a breather from every part of me hurting. I wasn’t stupid; I knew the pain would eventually subside on its own when my body was done healing. I’d get through this like I got through everything: with my teeth gritted and my stubbornness to survive shining through. Hell, I’d made it through the darkest days, and though death was always on the horizon, it wasn’t poking me like a bear in a cage anymore. But still, I wanted the hit. I wanted it to take the pain for a bit. I wanted it so I could get out of my own damned head for a bit.
“Good to go,” the prospect said, and I realized that I must have zoned out for a moment. “I’ll be outside, I don’t need to see your junk.”
I grunted in response, too fucked up from what he’d given me to reply properly. The next thing I felt was the touch of Belle’s fingertips on my overly sensitized skin, picking at the bandages and peeling them away to reveal the delicate skin underneath. It felt like broken glass being dragged across my flesh, tearing open the wounds again. My stomach ached and my blood thrummed through my veins like hot lava. I kept my eyes closed, forcing my mind to go somewhere better than this, like I did every time I had to go through this shit.
I thought of being on my bike again. I tried to remember the feel of the wind on my face and in my hair. Of the rumble of the engine and the heat of the metal between my thighs and the feel of a woman’s tits pressed up against my back. I could smell the scent of engine oil and a woman’s sweet perfume in my nostrils, and goddamn, it was everything and more. The wind, the roar, and the scent of oil—the world stopped for a moment, and if I could have died right then, I would have. It was bliss. Pure fucking bliss.
And then the sharp sting of pain stabbed through me again and I was brought back to earth. To this place, this room, and this pain once more.
I opened my eyes, glaring over at Belle as she soaked the sponge and cleaned my arms and legs, water dripping across my chest and stomach, dripping over the ripples of muscle that was slowly wasting away and torn-up tattoos. Over scars and cuts and bruises and melted skin. My body would never be what it was again. I was trapped in this broken, fucked-up sack and there was nothing I could do about it. Woman like Belle would have batted those pretty lashes for me at one time. She would have dropped to her knees, desperate to suck my cock and spread her legs, but now…fuck, now I was nothing but a monster. I was a monster and I’d never be anything more than that to any woman.
“Stop,” I