The Sect (16 page)

I
T
MUST
’
VE
been the longest day ever. The morning was twice as long. The afternoon was three times longer. I stared at the shadows on the wall of my pretty prison, waiting for them to change and for the sunset to cloud the room slowly with darkness. Standing, while resting against the wall closest to the window and attempting to sleep, was the only position I could endure. I felt the pain in every part of me. I saw the pain inflicted by Noah’s brutal hand on almost every inch of my body, even if there weren’t any welts to be seen.
 

The memories of the other side of his brutality elicited a persistent moisture between my legs. My body had become a receptacle of self-revulsion when it came to sex. It was a dirty, painful, and undesired act.
 

I tasted a flavor of what I’d never thought I’d be able to taste. The memory of the flavor lingered with me, but the lingering taste faded too quickly. I wanted to forget, but my body desired more. The pleasure made me feel the pain. The pleasure at his hand made my coping mechanisms null, rendering me unable to grasp my ways of managing.
 

Showering felt like bathing in acid. I persevered, hoping if I felt enough pain I would remember how to cope again. After several showers and feeling my fingers linger at a place that always disgusted me, I threw on my silk dress and vowed to stay away from the bathroom for the rest of the day. But, the dress was too constricting and irritated a part of me that was still healing. I remained nude inside the room, with my dress crumpled up on the floor.

 
Noah’s hands dealt the perfect balance of pain and pleasure. It was my first climax and it made me crazed for it. It made me feel things I never thought my body was capable of feeling. He exploited all the defenses I’d put in place by opening me up with pain and devouring me with pleasure. Thoughts about what he might’ve felt like inside me penetrated my thoughts and made me feel more ashamed. He tried to break me, and he almost succeeded by thrusting my body out of its numb state and introducing me to desire.
 

The lock on the door latched, making my heart beat with violence, pressing painfully against my chest.
 

The natural, clean smell that wafted into the room wasn’t Reven’s, it was Noah’s.
 

My mind wanted to show him he hadn’t broken me, but my body remembered and cowered in the corner, trying to hide behind the shadows in the room.
 

He walked over to my bed and set the silver dinner tray down. Plodding toward me, he slipped his hands in his pockets. His gaze lazily drifted up and down my body with a heightening smirk of satisfaction. “I must say, I do beautiful work.” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t you agree, princess?” He quirked a brow while stepping forward. “I see you’re no longer shy.” He reached out and fingered a tear on my cheek. “I can also see that you’re so wet your thighs are sticking together.”

My body revolted, shaking with aversion and freight, or at least I tried to pretend it was. My body was a traitorous vixen, because it shook with want for him and him alone.

He looked to the side at the tray on the bed. “I can be a very nice guy when you don’t disappoint me.”

I glanced at the serving tray, noting a plate of grilled chicken and tomatoes topping linguine in Alfredo sauce. A small jar of greenish yellow gel was placed next to the familiar flowers. That wasn’t all; a small piece of chocolate was placed right next to the flower. When I looked back at him, he winked at me. “The salve will make your stomach feel a little better. You can use it anywhere else you feel pain. My kindness better go unpunished, Keaton.”

While I was stuck in confusion, I tossed my head to the other side. I didn’t want him to see that on top of stirring up everything I’d thought I knew; he had thrown me fully into uncertainty. I…couldn’t look at him. Every time I looked at him I remembered his fingers inside of me…on me…touching me.

“I like it when you’re quiet,” he said, nearing me. “That is, when I’m not torturing you.” He held his arms on either side of my head, imprisoning me against the wall. “Or making you come.” His teeth sank into his bottom lip as his eyes became smoldering. “Is it replaying in your head over and over again? I bet it is.”
 

I felt the warmth of his hand against my neck. Instead of remembering to revolt, I didn’t. I warmed to his touch; my shudders began to wane. The sensation between my thighs began to sizzle and ache for him to touch me again.
 

“There we go, princess. It’s happening already, isn’t it? It was almost too easy. Makes me wonder if I was right about what happened.” His eyes shot down my body, taking their time to drift to me. “When you saw me, you wanted me to do very dirty little things to your body, didn’t you? You wanted them so badly you came for me hard and fast like the obedient woman I know you can be.”
 

Winking, his hand slipped down, tracing the outline of my breasts and touching a sensitive spot I didn’t know I had, the curve of my waist. “Having me as a friend is your best chance at survival.” He jerked my chin to face him, pressing his lips toward me, almost to a kiss.
 

“I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.” My lips parted without my permission, inviting him to go through with what he intended.
 

“I changed my mind,” he said with a skewed smirk. He abruptly released me, snickering to himself. “You’re going to be more fun than I thought you were, Keaton. I’m touched.” He clutched his heart, the sarcasm in the moment became so thick it could be sliced thinly and served as sustenance. “How badly are you aching for me to fuck you right now?”

I kept silent, having difficulty maintaining eye contact.

“With the way you’re shaking like a newborn deer, I know the answer whirling around in that stubborn head of yours is yes. You really want me to keep your secret about what really breaks you, Keaton. Because if Reven knows…?” He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “His patience only extends so far. It would be very easy to destroy you so severely you’ll lose your fucking mind and crawl the walls searching for your sanity. You’re going to pray for mercy.” He puckered his lips, kissing the air between us. He backed away, heading for the door, allowing me to take in the breath I couldn’t with him touching me—looking at me.

“Make me feel it again,” my hoarse voice rang out so quietly I didn’t think he heard me. I hoped he hadn’t heard me, but when he abruptly stopped, my heart sank.

I brought my trembling hand to my face, wishing away what I’d said to him.

He looked over his shoulder at me. The shadows in the room prevented me from determining if he was smirking or staring at me with inexpressiveness. “That…didn’t sound like a question.” Turning around, he glanced at a particular spot in my room. “Matter-of-fact, I know it wasn’t. It failed miserably at being a plea.”

I slid down to the floor, wincing as I felt the soreness in my belly and back. “Please, please make me feel it again.” I covered my mouth. Not only had I begun to hate my body, but now I’d begun to hate my mouth. It spewed things I wanted to keep hidden. Things I wanted to pretend I didn’t want and pushed them down to a dark place to never be exposed. But here I was, naked, pleading, begging for the touch of a man who never should’ve touched me in the first place.

His head slowly snapped to me, no longer staring at something in the distance. As he began to walk, I was sure he was going to leave, but instead, he drew the curtains, making the room something just short of pitch black.
 

My vision was unable to adjust. At the touch of his hands, helping me to stand, I squealed. He stilled me, whispering in my ear. “Shut the fuck up, Keaton. No matter how hard I make you come. Shut. Up.”

“I-I don’t understand. Y-you’re going to…?”

“Did you really think I was kidding, princess?” He picked me up until my feet no longer touched the ground and threw me on the bed.

I covered my mouth as another verbal protest of my pain escaped.
 

“I’m going to show you the very,
very
nice guy I can be.” He grabbed my thighs, tossing me around and directed me partially down on the bed. My tender stomach was pressed against the mattress. My legs dangled off the edge touching the floor below. His hands wrapped around my thighs, slowly spreading my legs. I reached out for the sheets, pulling them around me. His fingers touched the cleft of my behind, tracing a path to my slit. Two fingers pressed in on either side of my labia and slowly opened me. The cooling sensation of his breath against my wet clit made me moan. I stuffed the sheets in my mouth to keep quiet. His hands grabbed my ass, his nails digging into my flesh as I felt his tongue lick slowly up the center of my sex.

My eyes watered as I tried to keep silent, but the sensation coursing through me was nearly impossible to keep quiet about. I quickly reached for a pillow, burying my face into it until I felt like I was suffocating. His licks became faster, more hurried and intense. When his lips wrapped around my clit and he began to suck, my body completely tensed up. He sucked harder with slurping sounds so loud I was sure they were heard over my attempts to keep my moans and cries quiet. As I began to shake, he stopped and slapped my ass. His fingers slowly and gently circled my swollen nub, keeping me at a level, but never allowing me to ascend or decline.
 

“Supplicate, Keaton,” he whispered, his breath bouncing against my ass before he bit into the flesh, making me wince and feel the pain of the welts. “Beg.”

The fire he ignited was consuming and altering. I would’ve done anything he asked me to. “Please, please let me come.” I chanted the words quietly, over and over again until they satisfied him.
 

The moment his lips surrounded my clit and his tongue lashed at the sensitive head, I shook violently with an ecstasy that made me dizzy. My entire body began to convulse as I fought not to scream. I buried my face completely in the pillow and relented. The electricity cooling my body to a temperature unknown and impossible.
 

He immediately released me in the middle of the never-ending ride to cure the unwanted ache. The back of his hand wiped roughly against my ass, leaving my arousal there.
 

His heavy footsteps faded away from me; the door latched closed upon his departure.
 

It didn’t matter what and where the pain was. My knees were too weak to stand, and I slipped off the bed and fell into a heap on the floor.

Day after day—counting seven sunsets—the silent chef brought food to my room. Every day, three times a day, she brought me home-cooked and warm food. The tray was consistently accompanied by the same salve and the same two flowers bound together with one of my three meals.
 

On the eighth day, when I was able to move without the pain reminding me to be still. I tried to hold on to the one piece of beauty I had, the roses. I utilized the salve, kicking myself for not using it earlier because it provided all the relief I needed, ensuring the burn on my stomach and backside were completely numbed. I placed the flowers on my windowsill inside a drinking cup. If I couldn’t have the fresh air, I’d at least have something to distract me from my dire circumstances. I savored each piece of chocolate, taking minuscule bites and enjoying the dark silk as it melted in my mouth.

After the twelfth sunset, my tray no longer contained the flowers, chocolate, or the salve.