Unshackle (Deliver #7) - Pam Godwin Page 0,37

fuck. Oh, fuck…” He came, driving deep and pounding into her with a growling roar.

As he ground into a slow halt, jerking and catching his breath, a wet sheen blurred her eyes. She felt dirty. Twisted. Used.

He twitched, and her inner muscles spasmed around him in response.

Shame. That was chief of her emotions and the worst feeling of all.

Without a word, he pushed off her, flung the condom at the trashcan, and yanked up the shorts he still wore.

“See that she gets dressed and hydrates,” he said to Tomas. “We leave in five minutes to work out.”

He ambled toward the bedroom, leaving her with a hollow, pulsing ache for something she couldn’t possibly want. Her lips were raw. Her breasts tingled with heaviness. Her pussy throbbed with soreness, and her chest cleaved for want of air.

She’d been violated more times than she could count since arriving at the compound. But not once had she ever felt so hot and needy and fucked-up afterward. What the hell had he done to her?

Anger spiked, coursing through her veins. She jumped to her feet, eying the demon who strolled away without a single glance back at the woman he’d just raped.

She didn’t think. She just ran. Past Tomas, toward the bedroom, she headed off the monster before he turned the corner. With a hard kick to the back of his knee, she caught him by surprise. He lost his balance, gripped the door jamb, and when he spun, she was ready.

Her fist collided with his granite jawline, sending a jolt of pain up her arm. She swung again, faking the hit, while driving a knee into his groin.

He doubled over and wrapped his arms around her like iron bands, slamming her against the wall as he stumbled. Those were the only strikes she got before he subdued her with a hand on her throat and his body planked along the front of hers.

“Do you want a postcoital cuddle? Is that it?” He wet his lips, his fingers tightening against her tender airway.

“I don’t want a coital anything from you.”

“You sure about that?” With his free hand, he reached between her legs and fingered her wetness. “Ah. You want a release.”

She gulped, dragging in precious drops of air and furiously shaking her head. But the tears that sprung were telling.

This need… The awful, involuntary longing he’d woken beneath her skin had teeth. She didn’t know how to fight this new enemy inside her. She didn’t even understand it. But she needed to. She couldn’t straighten out her head until she figured out the mystery between them.

He watched her closely, his face an inch away. The hand on her throat loosened, melting into fingers that stroked and beguiled.

“Say what you’re thinking,” he murmured.

“You…” Kiss differently. Fuck differently. “You hurt me differently. Not like the others.”

Nothing changed in his hard expression. No surprise. No annoyance.

“You want to know why.” He did something with his finger between her legs, making her entire body bow off the wall and press into his. “Why does my touch bring more pleasure than pain? Why do I kiss with the patience of a man who worships women, not owns them?” He leaned in and slid his nose along hers, his whisper kissing her lips. “The truth is so disturbing you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let it go.”

He released her and stepped back.

Rubbing her throat, she glared at him, more confused and uncomfortable than ever before.

“You want to come, Gina, even as your brain abhors the idea. That’s your punishment, one that will plague your pretty little mind and pussy all day. Get dressed.”

With that, he stalked into the bedroom, dismissing her.

CHAPTER 13

By work out, he actually did mean jogging.

The man had some irritating stamina, but she was no slouch, either. Dressed in the tank-top, spandex shorts, and running shoes that Tomas had found for her—God only knew whose closet he’d raided—she pounded her feet along the trail.

Sweat dampened her brow. Sunshine warmed her skin, and the light breakfast she’d eaten sat contently in her stomach.

She was glad to be outside, breathing in the open air. The exercise kept her focused on rebuilding her strength rather than falling apart. She even appreciated the view of the two shirtless psychopaths jogging along either side of her. It was better than being confined in a room with them.

Before yesterday, she’d considered herself fairly perceptive when it came to men. She anticipated their intentions, skill sets, and limitations with a high degree