The meaty-faced man returned with my cousin, who looked as sick as I felt.
“Let us see how long Roya’s pride lasts now.” The nasty sneer on Uncle’s face only magnified when he glanced between me and the hulking bodyguard with the vicious scar.
“Rafiq is too soft to do what’s necessary. He needs to see how a woman should be treated so she understands the rules of her lesser station. No need to save your virtue for the wedding bed, and you’ll have to be broken in properly, Roya.”
He beckoned the scarred thug forward then stepped away. “She is all yours.”
The goon grunted—a greedy, guttural sound—and pressed his body against mine. His cold, hard lips slammed over mine, his fat tongue thrusting straight into my mouth.
Before I could bite the offending thing off, he whipped his head back. He ripped the scarf from my hair and tossed it away. He bit the juncture of my neck and shoulder, breaking skin, drawing blood.
His hands latched onto my buttocks, squeezing hard, pinching and rubbing.
I shouted, a terror-filled sound as anger and shock fractured inside of me. I fought against being invaded in this way even though I could hardly move a muscle.
When my abuser got close to my face again—one of his thick digits dryly digging into the crease of my buttocks—I found his ear and struck with my teeth.
The bastard howled, breaking free.
In the background, I heard Uncle’s eerie laugh.
The guard slapped both palms onto my breasts, and he squashed them together. With my nipples popped up, he chewed on them, twisting them with his snapping teeth until I worried he’d pull them right off my body.
I screamed again, my head thrashing back and forth as my very body was taken advantage of against my will.
I hurled out every invective in every language I knew. At first the rapist seemed amused by my outburst. He released my sore nipples and spanked both mounds as white pain ripped across my vision.
And then he backhanded me.
“How does she feel?” my sick uncle asked.
My debasement only continued, the brute shoving a finger into my painfully dry vaginal sheath.
“She is tight but not untried,” he muttered before forcing another digit inside of me.
“Then fuck the whore as you wish. As many times as you wish. But make sure to give Azil here a turn too.” He mentioned the man who could only be the other guard. “I want her violated until she passes out.”
A pained whimper parted my lips as the groping asshole took another turn at chewing my excruciating nipples.
Over the rapist’s shoulder, I saw Uncle with his hand on the back of Rafiq’s neck, making sure he watched and couldn’t turn away from my defilement.
And then I became aware of the scarred guard unzipping his pants . . .
Knowing now what would be done to my body—that I’d be breached possibly many times—I was never more grateful that I’d given that most precious gift to Aris. My virginity only to be had once.
Aris alone would know me—possess me—completely and truly because I wanted it. Wanted him.
This was nothing more than a corporeal trespass.
With him, the sex had been transcendent, a feverish, fervent connection.
I’d hold onto that like a talisman and I would survive. I’d make it out of this gloomy cell.
I’d come back from this.
Uncle watched with pure malicious zeal as my torturer prepared to penetrate my unwelcoming body.
And I looked at him, not at what was being done to me. “Aris will come for you.”
He cocked his head, assessing me in my debasement, thinking about my threat before dismissing it. “The Russian will never find you now.”
I looked over at one of the gold cuffs, my blood congealed on it, tarnishing it.
Aris had let me go, passed me off.
He’d wanted to be on my body at all times.
Storing a small seed of hope inside, I remembered everything about Aris.
He was beautiful.
He was cunning.
He was never reckless.
He’d taken me. Fucked me.
Possessed me.
And he didn’t like his possessions being touched by anyone else.
I lifted my eyes and gave a deadly smile. “He is Bratva. And he will destroy you.”