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“Bullshit,” I sneer and shove my cock back into her mouth. Pleasure overwhelms me as I thrust my hips quicker against her face, relishing in the way she fights against me. If circumstances were different, she’d besofucking perfect.
I know I’ll think about this time with her for months to come while I jerk my cock, imagining another night with her. Which makes it even more imperative I find out who she is.
So I can find her again soon.
“Ready to switch?” Talon asks, and I nod. We trade places, and I position myself on the opposite end of her.
“Still don’t want to give us your name?” I ask. I wipe the sweat beading up on my brow before I roughly flip her over. She cries out in pain, and I smirk, positioning her the way I want.
“Tristan, I think you’re going a bit overboard,” Talon says, and gestures to her. “I mean… look at her.”
“She brought this on herself.” I rub a little lube on my cock and position the head of it at her asshole. “All she has to do is tell us her name and this will stop.” I pause for a moment, fisting her hair and pulling her head back. “Ready to obey yet?”
Hot tears sit in her eyes as she glares back at me. “No,” she forces out.
“See?” I say to Talon and then shrug, letting go of her hair to grab her hips instead. “Suit yourself then, little slut.”
Her moans mix with screams and fill the room when I push into her tight hole. I groan as pleasure streaks up my spine and makes my skin warm. Aside from her frustrating the fuck out of me, she feelssogood around my cock. It should be a crime how much her pain turns me on.
There are points where I forget that I’m doing this for information, my mind and body becoming caught up with thepleasure coursing through them as I hurt the mystery girl. “Just give him your name,” Talon says, trying to take the good cop position. But we’re well beyond trying to appease some soft spot inside her.
Bringing her to Hell revealed the monster in us both.
The closer we get to the cutoff time, the more she withdraws into herself to protect her sanity. And the further she retreats into her pain and suffering, the more determined she is to keep her identity a secret.
“No!” she exclaims between sobs, before moaning and hissing at me in anger that I just smirk at.
“Tell. Me. Your. Fucking. Name,” I hiss back, my violent strokes rattling her petite frame. But no matter what I do,nothingis working.
As our time winds down, I start to worry I’ll fail this battle.
Not even Hell can break this woman.
Which makes me realize just how dangerous she is.
TALON
This feels wrong.
I know why Tristan is doing this, but he’s crossing into dangerous territory. There are a few instances where I think Kitten is going to pass out, only for the pain to rip her back to her Hell. She’s strong, I’ll give her that. Despite everything we’ve done to her, she hasn’t cracked, and there’s no sign that will.
Her plan of forcing us to run out of time without knowing her name may work.
I bend down to the girl, her face buried in the comforter, which muffles her sobs and moans.
“Just tell us your name, and it’ll be over,” I plead softly. Bruises are already starting to develop on her ass, blood smearing the inside of her thighs. I can’t help but feel bad for her, but I’m equally curious to know what her end game is. Why is she so determined to keep her identity hidden to the point that she’d rather endure the torment we’re putting her through? Crazy girl…
She looks at me as fresh tears spill from her eyes.
“Talon…please,” she whispers. My heart skips a few beats at the mention of my name. Shedefinitelyknows us. Tristan neversaid my actual name, only my nickname. For her to know my name and nickname, it’s apparent that she knows who we are.
My eyes widen as I stare at her. She looks familiar in a way, but not enough to put a name to her face. Maybe it’s the hair or the messed up makeup, but my brain continuously draws a blank. What the actual fuck?
After a few frustrating moments, I firmly push Tristan backward. He stumbles off the bed and glares at me. “What the fuck was that for?” His voice is angry as his hands curl into fists at his side. His eyes move up to the clock.
“She’s not going to give it to us,” I say. “Unless you plan on killing her, this shit is useless. Fucking look at her.”
I gesture to her bruised body as she lies whimpering on the bed. Tristan’s sweaty chest heaves with each enraged breath he takes. If looks could kill, I’d probably be dead a million times over. While I understand why he’s done it all, it’s overkill at this point. The girl hasn’t caved a bit regardless of what we’ve done to her, so it’s almost pointless torture at this point. It’s impossible for me to let this continue without having her death on my conscience. I’m done hurting an innocent person.
