He withdrew, removed the belt from his loops as he shuffled back, and brought the strap down on my pussy. I squealed like a pig, the pain so searing, he might as well have used an electric prod.

“Say it again.”

“Zach!”

“Scream it!”

“Zach!” I sobbed. “This isn’t you. Please, remember us. Please. You used to make me feel safe.”

“And you never appreciated it.” He tossed the belt on the floor then rammed me so hard, my ass slid up the mattress a few inches. My cries echoed, hoarse from screaming for him to stop. I don’t think he even heard me.

He’d snapped, and I couldn’t reach the human part of him. The part that was my brother. This untamed creature was unrecognizable, blind with bloodlust and rage. He’d waited until I crashed from the ecstasy to unleash the beast, mouth snarling and teeth gnashing, knowing how I’d be incapable of becoming aroused after coming off the drug. Every thrust of his cock bruised, burned, and rubbed me raw. Whatever tenderness he’d shown in the past couple of weeks had vanished. He was wasted and pissed, and no one was coming to save me.

“Zach…stop…” My voice failed me, coming out as nothing more than a whimper. “Stop.”

“You don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do.” The rip of tape screeched through my ears, and he secured a strip over my mouth. “Go on, Lex. Say his name now. I dare you to try.” His laughter tingled down my spine. He withdrew his knife from the pocket of his jeans. “I’ll make sure you never forget who’s fucking you again.”

The cool edge of his blade pressed into my stomach. On the inside, I screamed in agony, but only a pathetic whine escaped my sealed lips. My heart pounded in my chest, panic rising as I struggled, digging my feet into the mattress and pushing up the bed a couple of inches. His forceful hands grabbed my thighs and yanked me back in place, and his cock plunged in again.

“Hold the fuck still.” His knife sliced into my skin, deeper this time. I kept my attention on his face, terrified of seeing the damage he was doing, but also giving one last attempt at reaching him with my eyes.

“Fucking gorgeous.” He swiveled his hips and moaned. “Fuck…your cunt never felt this good.” He continued carving, saying more, but the words were indiscernible beyond my smothered cries. I feared he would kill me, dig the blade in too deeply, slash an organ. With that last thought came the disturbing discovery that maybe he’d finally give me a way out. No more pain. No more guilt or shame. No more surviving.