Chapter 129 - ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY NINE

Chapter 129: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY NINE

ANGEL

"I spent months in that hospital bed thinking about you." His voice was darker now. A crazed glint flickered in his eyes, followed by a fury I’d never seen since I woke up in this hellhole. "Do you know what that’s like? To want someone so badly it feels like your skin is on fire? Like you’re burning from the inside out and the only thing that could put it out is a thousand miles away, fucking someone else? Letting him put his hands on what’s mine. Calling him Daddy like you’d forgotten I ever existed."

His grip on my hair tightened until I whimpered, my scalp screaming in protest and pained tears burning in my eyes.

The mask of control he’d always worn was slipping now. "I would have died for you, Angel. And you repaid me by letting another man use this body. By giving him what belongs to me."

"FUCK YOU DAMIEN!" The words exploded out of me. "You should have just fucking died! I wish you had burned! I wish they’d scraped whatever was left of you off that floor and thrown it in the garbage where it belongs!"

His expression went terrifyingly still.

"I dare you to repeat that again." His voice was sinister, but I was past caring. Past fear. Past everything except the grief and rage that had swallowed me whole.

"I wish you’d suffered more! I wish you’d rotted wherever the hell you were! I wish—"

His hand closed around my throat, cutting off my air supply.

"After everything I went through to get back to you, I don’t want to hurt you so soon." He breathed roughly against my face, his eyes boring into mine with sharp warning. "Don’t push me, Angel. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret."

"And you’re not already hurting me?" I choked out the words, my vision starting to spot at the edges. "You’re pathetic. You couldn’t even die right."

Something flickered across his face. His grip released slightly—just enough for me to breathe.

I lunged.

He didn’t expect it. My teeth found his neck and I sank them in, going for the jugular, wanting to tear his throat out with my bare hands. It was stupid. Pretty very stupid. But I wasn’t my sanest version at this moment. All I wanted was to make him bleed.

I bit down as hard as I could, feeling skin split, feeling something hot and metallic flood my mouth.

He groaned.

And it wasn’t a sound of pain.

It was pleasure. Dark, twisted, undeniable pleasure that vibrated through his chest and into my teeth, into my bones.

"You’re right," he growled, not pulling away. If anything, he pressed closer, tilting his head to give me better access to his throat. "I should have died. So kill me now. Hurt me. Get it all out, baby girl. Take all that rage and sink it into my flesh. Tear me apart if that’s what you need. I can take it. I can take anything you give me."

I bit harder. The taste making my stomach retch even as some twisted part of me felt satisfaction at his pain.

And I felt his cock twitch against my thigh. Hardening. Thickening. Growing rigid against my skin through the shirt I wore.

He was getting off on this.

"You’re so fucking perfect," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. "You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever touched. Do you have any idea how hard you make me, Angel, when you fight like this?" His laugh was dark, breathless. "When you bite and scratch and try to destroy me, knowing I’ll soon break it out of you? It makes it so much more fun when you finally submit. And you will submit, baby girl. You always do."

I released his neck and spat blood in his face, watching it splatter across his cheek.

"You’re a pig. A delusional, scarred-up pig who thinks he deserves something he never earned."

He grinned even wider, his eyes dark with hunger. He looked absolutely unhinged. Completely deranged. "Your pussy loves this pig’s cock." His voice was crude, filthy. "I can already feel you getting wet. Your body’s already preparing itself for me, isn’t it? Getting all slick and ready even while you’re spitting in my face. That’s what I love about you, Angel—your mouth lies but this body never does."

"The only thing my body is preparing is vomit."

"Is that so? I think you’re an easy slut." His grin turned cruel, his hand sliding down my body with possessive intent. "Any cock gets you wet now. Is that what Vincenzo did to you? Turned you into such a desperate little whore that you drip for anyone who bothers to touch you?"

His fingers found my breast through the shirt, squeezing roughly, his thumb circling my nipple until it hardened against my will.

"Look at that. These tits remember me too." He pinched my nipple hard, making me gasp. "Remember how I used to slap them, until you were begging me to stop?"

"Get your fucking hands off me before I bite them off too."

He ignored my threat,"Was that how you let Vincenzo pipe you?" He rolled my nipple between his fingers, the pleasure-pain shooting straight to my core. "On your back with your legs spread like a cheap slut, begging him to fill you up? Did you let him play with these pretty tits while he fucked you? Did you moan for him like the desperate little whore you are?"

"Daddy was twice the man you’ll ever be." I spat the words like venom, wanting them to cut. "Every time he touched me, I forgot you existed. Every time he was inside me, I thanked God you were dead."

Something dark flashed across his face. I’d hit a nerve.

"And guess who’s dead now? Oh wait... your precious Daddy," He laughed. "It isn’t up to a full day and you’re getting wet for me, so you’re an easy slut like I said,"