Read Online Call Me...Vengeance: Book 1 in the Vengeance MC Series by Natasha Thomas - Free Book Online

groped, pinched, and abused my tender flesh. I fought, pushed, kicked, tried to bite him, none of it had an effect on him, though. He was too far gone. Unreachable.
     
    Screaming and begging wouldn’t work, I tried. Crying, pleading for him to stop only made him angrier. Every whimper made him harder, his erection pushing into my hip as he ripped at my remaining bra and panties. By the time he had me completely naked, my skin red and bruising from the rough possession of his hands, I had screamed my throat raw. Pitiful, hoarse no’s fell from my lips when he thrust inside me for the first time, tearing through my innocence.
     
    There was nothing gentle about the way Oliver treated me that night. He didn’t try to kiss me, something I was glad of. I didn’t want my first kiss to be with a man who was brutalizing me. The sad thought that at least I could have that first with someone was the only thing keeping me sane as the blood trickled down the inside of my thighs. Not even his hands showed any sign of gentling as he took something that wasn’t his to have. Squeezing, pawing, hard, unforgiving hands came down on my body; striking, slapping, reddening the skin as the blood rushed to the surface. Capillaries were broken, welts were left, and hand-sized bruises were evident before he pulled himself free of me.
     
    The burning agony every plunge of his erection made inside of me brought tears to my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. Not one. The pain in my heart was worse. My soul cried out for everything I had lost, was losing, but there was no one to answer its call. I wouldn’t let him think he had broken me. Damaged me beyond repair, though. I wouldn’t give him that power. All I could think of as he tore through my tender flesh was; I hope he finishes fast. I prayed it would all be over as quickly as his temper had surged. But I wasn’t that lucky.
     
    I closed my mind down, shut it off so that I wouldn’t have to accept the memories remembering would bring later. I couldn’t hear his grunts and groans anymore. The smell of his sweat mixed with my blood and tears had disappeared. My eyes were sightless to his body plundering mine violently, seeing only the beauty of the stars overhead. Feeling him moving over me, inside me wasn’t an option anymore, I reached my hands out to caress the moss covering the tree roots instead. 
     
    I don’t know if it was minutes or hours, but by the time I was barely coherent anymore, Oliver drove into me one last time groaning his release as he came inside of me. I didn’t think about it then, I couldn’t, but I knew I would have to get myself tested for diseases and pregnancy. I only hoped that this act of cruelty didn’t create a life because if it had, I knew I couldn’t keep it. I wasn’t that strong. A reminder of the terror I’d lived through wasn’t something I would be able to bear. This was bad enough. But how I would survive having to abort a baby, my baby, a piece of me regardless of how it was conceived eluded me.
     
    Like I said, that night something happened to me. Something horrific. Something humiliating. But also something powerful. Something that changed my life forever. When Oliver was done, he pulled out of me, tucked his pathetic excuse for a penis back into his pants, and turned to leave me there; alone, naked, and debased.
     
    Before he walked away, Oliver looked over his shoulder and said,
    “You’re so fucking weak I can’t stand to look at you.” Sneering he spat, “Strong women don’t snivel and beg like you did, bitch. You deserved what you got. Girls like you aren’t useful for anything other than a fast, hard fuck anyway.”
     
    It might not be healthy, but Oliver’s words struck a chord with me. Not because I believed him, or that any other woman in my position wouldn’t have pleaded for their rapist to stop, but because I knew then that I had to prove him wrong. I needed to show that I could be strong. That I was resilient.