Page 39 of I Was Born Ruined (Death by Daybreak MC 1)
I don’t want to be a princess at all—especially not that kind.
“I’m his property,” I say, and Grainge doesn’t argue. So I pick up a wooden husky carving—a gift from Reba—and I throw it as hard as I can in the man’s direction. He lets it hit him and grunts, narrowing his eyes on me.
“So what? There are worse things.” The laugh I give in response to Grainge’s statement is so raw, so caustic that it burns even my ears. I still smell like blood by the way; I reek of it.
“Worse things than being trapped in a cage of chrome?” I ask, shaking my head and moving back into the bathroom. I try to close that door, and there the bastard is again, stopping me with a palm and pushing it inward. When he starts to take the screws off with his multi-tool, I lose my shit. I grab the showerhead and spray him in the face with hot water.
Grainger curses, and then he’s up and at me in such a quick, hot second that I don’t even have time to take a breath. He slams me against a wall with his hands on my wrists.
“You’re gonna pull this childish shit after the crap you put us all through today? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. You think you’re so goddamn mature, but you’re nothing but a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how good she’s got it.” Grainger’s hair drips in his face as the showerhead thrashes on the ground like a snake, spraying us both and sticking my robe to my body. Grainge dips his gaze down and stares at my nipples, clearly visible through the thin, white silk.
I do not expect his mouth to drop down and capture one.
Hot heat surges over me as he sucks me through the silk, playing with my nipple through the fabric and keeping me on my feet with my pinned wrists.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls at me. “Some hot, quick, dirty fuck? Will that make you feel better, Gidget? Will that make you feel more grown-up?”
“Eat shit, Cade,” I snap, and I feel that hot rage spike through me again. Before I lose it, I grab his face and try to kiss him, but he jerks back, yanking me along with him and then planting me on the bathroom counter. He tears my robe unceremoniously from my shoulders, ripping his pants open and pushing my legs wide. I can barely breathe, my heart thundering so fast, the darkest, most wicked parts of me whispering horrible things in the back of my mind.
Someone died tonight.
Someone was shot.
The Grey Wolfe Mafia is after me.
Cat is going to kill me.
“Fuck me, Grainger,” I say, and it’s so hard to make even those words come out.
You’re going to regret this in the morning. You’re going to regret this so hard, Gidge.
Grainge slips a condom from his pocket, slides the ribbed latex over his shaft, and thrusts into my aching core before I can even think to take my own advice.
And oh.
Oh.
It feels so good and so horrible at the same time. When he kisses me, it’s like licking poison and loving it. I might die, but I won’t stop. I won’t stop drinking in this tainted water and wishing it would kill me. And his cock … that’s beautiful poison, too. He slides it into me with wicked thrusts of his hips, parting my folds, filling me up to the point of tears. These I try to blink back, but they’re physical, not emotional, and so I can’t stop them. One falls before I can catch it, and Grainger licks it off. But not in a nice way.
No, there’s nothing at all nice about him.
I’m fucking a monster right now, I tell myself, but it doesn’t matter. I was raised by monsters. Fuck, maybe I am one? As much as I know that I should run from this life, pack up in the middle of the night, steal some money, and start over somewhere else … I also know that I won’t. I can’t. Maybe I hate this life as much as I’m addicted to it?
Grainger doesn’t say a damn word as he grips my ass so hard he bruises me, thrusting deep and fast and hard. He joins his body with mine, and yet he doesn’t look at me. When he kisses me, all I taste is the ashy darkness of hate. He hates me. He really fucking hates me.
That’s exactly what I want.
I put my arms over his shoulders, but only for leverage. I don’t need to touch Cade Grainger anymore than I have to, just enough to make this hurt go away. My lids feel so heavy, I let them close, let him drive into me with all the ire and frustration that I’m feeling inside. With the hot burn of his shaft inside of me, it’s hard to summon up old memories, and impossible to contemplate new ones. For a moment there, I just pretend that I’m a club whore, and Grainger is some face I won’t remember in the morning.
