Maniacs (Depraved Sinners 4)

Tears pool in my eyes and I blink them out, letting them stain the sheets by my head.

He slams into me again and again, gripping on to my heavy thighs as I just lay here, unable to fight, unable to scream for help. He groans and grunts as darkness washes over my soul, picturing exactly how I’m going to take his life from this world, picturing how I will tear him limb from limb, how I will cut his fucking dick off with a serrated knife and feed it to him, how I will tear his intestines right out of his body and listen to his scream.

Giovanni quickly grows sweaty, and I realize that this is going to be a quick game. “Is that all you got?” I mutter, my fingers clenching in the sheets. “You’re like a fucking jackhammer. This is embarrassing. No wonder Ariana was so desperate to fuck literally everyone but you. I bet you’ve never got a woman off in your life.”

He growls, trying to block me out as he focuses on fucking me raw.

“If I had to guess, I’d say Levi has the biggest cock, a million times bigger than that little jack rabbit you’re trying to fuck me with. I didn’t realize they even came in size micropeen. But Levi, he’s a girthy motherfucker. Angry veins with a long shaft that I have to use two hands on. I bet you’ve never made a bitch even gag before.”

Anger burns in his eyes, and I feel his dick quickly start deflating and I laugh. My DeAngelis men would never face such an issue. In fact, they’d use my taunts as a fucking weapon, desperate to prove they can get me off harder and faster than their brothers, but there is no competition. They all come with individual gifts, but it’s when all three of them have me up against a wall … that’s when the magic happens.

Giovanni fucks me harder, desperate to hold on to his erection, but with every snorted laugh that tears from deep in my throat, his will to fuck quickly dies. By the time it feels like nothing but a floppy cock trying to jam itself into my cooch, the second-hand embarrassment is too much. “Fuck, man. Give it up,” I laugh. “This is just shameful, but don’t worry, it’ll be a good story to share with your sons when we’re standing over your dead body.”

I don’t see his fist before it’s too late, but one second I’m laughing, and the next his fist is slamming into my temple, knocking me out cold.

13

A heavy thump sails through my room, so loud that I feel it vibrating in my chest and my eyes pop open. A gasp tears through my lips, remembering exactly what happened, and within moments, the emotions hit me hard.

Guilt. For allowing it to happen.

Anger. For not being able to fight.

Sadness. For not being able to save myself for only the men I love.

Shame. For having that vile man use my body for his own wicked games.

I don’t know what happened after he knocked me out. I don’t know if he kept fucking me, if he somehow got his limp dick hard again, if he even had the stamina to keep going. But it doesn’t matter if he made himself finish or not, all that matters is that it happened against my will and that the fucker will pay for it.

My fingers brush past my temple, and I wince at the sharp pain. There’s definitely a killer lump there that’s going to seriously fuck with my day, but at least I’ve regained some kind of control over my limbs.

Another loud thump comes from deeper in the castle, and my head shoots toward the door, certain that someone is going to come for me again, but when the door remains shut, I give myself a chance to breathe.

Pushing up from the stained mattress, I rest my back against the headboard and pull my knees into my chest, holding them to me as though curling into a ball could offer me some semblance of safety. Minutes pass, and I drop my forehead onto my knees as tears flow freely down my face.

He raped me.

He took my body and stole from me, abused me, held me down and forced himself inside of me without my consent. How am I ever supposed to be okay after this? I know I fucked with his head, took away his power over me, but that doesn’t change the fact that it still happened. Doesn’t ease the ache between my legs, doesn’t help the bruises to fade any faster.

Giovanni ruined me, and for that, I will destroy him and his whole goddamn army, but to do that, I have to put this behind me. I can’t break down into a sobbing mess every time it’s thrown in my face, every time the memories come back to haunt me. At least, not until he’s dealt with. I can break after that, once I have the boys to lean on. They’ll help me to find my value just as they’ve done in the past. They’re my rocks, and I won’t be able to do this without them.

They have to be okay.

Marcus … he … there’s not enough time.

Fuck.

Raising my head from my knees, I hastily wipe my tears. I’ve already wasted so much time. The boys are locked up in the underground playground with no food or water, no way to help one another. Roman and Levi have to just sit there in their cells watching Marcus slowly fade away. Hell, it’s been hours since the wedding, since I saw that live footage, he could already be … No. I can’t think like that. I have to believe that they’re going to make it because, without them, I won’t survive this. They hold three equal parts of my heart and without them, I’ll never be whole again.

They’re my everything, even Roman’s broody assholery.

Quickly taking note of my body, I check over my injuries. I’m bloodied and bruised. No one has bothered to come in and tend to the gaping wound in my arm, but on some level, I’m glad. I don’t think I can handle anyone else coming in here uninvited. As for the rest of me, I’m mostly unharmed. Lines of blood decorate my skin and matted hair, and there are bruises mainly on my thighs and hips. My jaw stings from the guard crash-tackling me like a fucking linebacker. My finger is swollen, but it doesn’t feel broken like I’d originally thought.

I’m going to be okay. I can work with this.

Grabbing the shredded material from the wedding dress that lays scattered across the bed, I wrap it tightly around my arm where my contraceptive rod used to be to stop the bleeding before shakily getting to my feet. I’m as naked as the day I was born, only now I’m sporting a shit load more scars and bruises than any woman should ever have to bear.

I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I wear them with pride because these are the marks of a survivor.