Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1) by Rachel Leigh (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

I fight against the rush that courses through my body, begging myself not to give in. “How do you know all of this stuff about me?”

“I’ll tell you,” he sucks my earlobe into his mouth while his teeth graze my cartilage, “but not until I finish you off. I want you to come so fucking hard that it gushes.”

Shutting off my mind, I escape this room. I unfeel his fingers sliding in and out of me. I pinch my eyes shut and carry myself away to another time. I picture my family at Thanksgiving dinner when I was seven. When Dad kissed Mom on the cheek and she accepted it because she wasn’t whoring around just yet. A life before the affair she had. Before cancer struck and took her away from us. Though we didn’t see Dad much, he used to smile back then. Axel was still a little jerk, but never to me. If he knew what these guys were doing to me, there is no doubt in my mind that he would kill them all. That’s why he can never know.

He can’t know that I’m letting Zed have his way with me all because I’m weak and pathetic. Because I want answers. It’s a sad truth that if you want something from a man then you either show some skin or spread your legs. All I’ve ever wanted is to be wanted. I just want someone to touch me like this and stay when it’s over.

“Come for me, Marni. I know you want it.”

I can’t. 

I don’t. 

He sits up, straddling my legs, and as his intensity slows, I begin to question myself and how disconnected I am from my body. Two fingers slide in and out at just the right speed, while he uses his other hand to rub against my clit. A suppressed moan unleashes and my back arches as my chest rises. Trying to regain my focus on something other than the way my body is inviting him in, I think of Talon. Lying there on that floor with no clue what is going on. As much as I hate him for what he’s done with that video, I need him to wake up.

Wake up and stop this, Talon. 

I close my eyes and don’t allow myself to feel anything other than the glide of his fingers and the adrenaline that floats through me. I let out a breathy exhale and clench myself around his fingers, bucking my hips up and forcing myself into oblivion. I want this. I lie to myself.

His face is right in front of mine, and I know, without a doubt, that he’s watching me intently. It’s pitch-black, but I can feel his eyes burn into my skin. Leaving an imprint that I’m not sure will ever fade. This memory will forever be etched in the back of my mind. One day when I’m old and depressed and have to seek counseling because of PTSD, this sin will be my first confession. I let the devil have his way with me, not because I was scared of the hell he was dragging me into, but because I liked the way it felt.

“You like that don’t you?” he says with a raspy pitch.

“Don’t fucking talk,” I hiss, bucking my hips higher to gain momentum.

How can something this unwanted make my body feel this damn good?

His pace picks up, and this time, I embrace it. Taking everything he’s giving me. He wants to make me feel good. He’s hungry for it. So much so, that I firmly believe he will go mad if I don’t give him the satisfaction of making me come.

“Oh yeah,” he moans, “you’re soaking wet for me. Just for me.”

“You’re fucking sick.” I groan as my body is taken over by a warm current that spills out between my legs. Reality slaps me in the face as soon as I come down.

Zed’s body drops down onto mine and I turn my head to the side to avoid him kissing me. Pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek, he whispers in my ear, “I am sick, but you drugged the guy you care about and let me shove my fingers in your pussy while he slept on the floor.“ I squirm out from underneath him and get to my feet.

“I don’t care about him. I hate him and I hate you.” My arm stretches back and I swing my open palm, just hoping and praying that it lands somewhere on his body.

When my hand meets his face, I smile. “You fucking bitch.” He spits.

Digging around on the floor until I find my pants, I untuck the leg sleeves that were turned inside out, then slide them on.

Before I even have them over my hips, Zed is gripping both of my wrists. “I’m not above hitting a woman who hits me first. Next time, I’ll fuck you and choke you at the same time. Then again,” he chuckles, “you’d probably like that, you little slut.”

Jerking my arm away, I stumble over Talon’s comatose body and almost fall to the floor, but I’m stopped by the wall that I slam into. Pushing myself off, I grab hold of the handle, just as I pull it open and light shines through, his breath hits my neck again. “What just happened in here is our secret. Unless you want Talon to know you took his phone, drugged him, and had this made.” I turn around and see the SD card.

“No!” I cry out as I try to take it from him. “That’s mine.”

That’s fucking mine. I worked my ass off for that card. That’s my escape from this hell. It’s my proof and my only chance to hold something over their heads.

“It’s mine now. I might not care what happens to your boy right there,” he glances over his shoulder then returns his gaze to me, “but I refuse to go down because he’s too stupid to know when he’s being played. You did good. I’ll give