Chapter 279

Quinn's POV

The silence stretched between us, broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. My lip throbbed, a physical reminder of the damage we continued to inflict on each other.

Then, without warning, Spencer reached for the buttons of my suit. His fingers trembled as he unfastened them one by one, exposing the lace of my bra.

"There's more pain coming your way," he growled low in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. Then his teeth sank into my earlobe, sharp and unyielding.

I didn't flinch. I didn't pull away. What was the point? I knew Spencer too well-his stubbornness, his need to dominate. Fighting him was useless, a waste of energy I didn't have. So I endured, like always. Crazy endurance, that's what it was.

He leaned in, his lips tracing a path down my neck to my collarbone. I stared out the windshield, focusing on the darkness beyond. The car was parked in a secluded spot, the sound of waves a distant murmur, a world away from the chaos inside this confined space.

He slid his hand under my bra, cupping my breast. I felt my nipple harden under his touch, a physical response my mind couldn't control. The cool air hit my skin, making my nipples tighten, but I felt nothing-no thrill, no shame. Just numbness. He didn't care about my silence, my stillness. He never did.

The seat reclined with a jolt, and suddenly he was over me, his weight pinning me down. "Quinn," he said, his voice a harsh rasp, "does it hurt?"

I looked up at him, his face shadowed in the dim light, his eyes burning with something I couldn't name-anger, lust, maybe both.

"No," I lied, flat and emotionless. "It doesn't hurt." It was true in a way. Physical pain I could handle. It was the rest-the humiliation, the emptiness-that cut deeper. But I was used to him by now, used to the way he took what he wanted. If he'd decided to fuck me in the middle of a crowded street, I'd have let him. That's what I'd become in his hands-cheap, compliant, a thing to be used.

His fingers moved lower, yanking my skirt up to my hips, then ripping my panties down my legs. I felt the fabric tear slightly, and then I was bare, my thighs trembling despite myself. He stared at me, at the soft, untouched flesh between my legs, and I saw the hunger in his eyes sharpen. My pussy was exposed, vulnerable, and I hated how it looked under his gaze-pink and delicate, a virgin's body he was about to ruin.

He unzipped his pants, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already slick with pre-cum. It was intimidating, veined and pulsing, a weapon he wielded with no regard for me. I braced myself as he positioned himself, the head pressing against my entrance. I wasn't ready-dry, tight, resistant-but he didn't care.

"Relax," he muttered, more a command than a comfort, and then he thrust in.

The pain was immediate, a searing rip as he forced his way past my hymen. I bit my lip hard, tasting blood, swallowing the cry that tried to escape. He didn't stop, didn't slow, just kept pushing deeper, stretching me until I thought I'd tear apart. The car rocked with his movements, the windows fogging as his breaths came faster, harsher.

"Cry?" he asked, his voice cutting through the haze of pain. I hadn't even noticed the tears until he pointed them out, hot streaks sliding from the corners of my eyes. I blinked, surprised. I'd thought I was past crying, past feeling anything in front of him. But there they were, betraying me.

"I thought you wanted this," he sneered, his hips slamming into me harder. "Wanted my kid, right? So why the tears?"

"Joy," I said faintly, my voice a ghost of itself. "Overwhelmed with joy."

He laughed, a short, cruel sound. "Quinn, you're fucking disgusting."

Yeah, I thought, so are you. But here we were, two disgusting people tangled up in each other, bound by some twisted fate I couldn't escape. His thrusts grew erratic, brutal, and the pain peaked, a white-hot agony that made my whole body tense beneath him. I shrank into myself, my face pale, my hands gripping the seat until my knuckles whitened.

"Who am I?" he demanded, his voice a snarl.

I clenched my jaw, silent, resisting even as my body gave in.

"Don't make me hurt you more," he threatened, and I felt his teeth graze my ear again, ready to bite.

"Spencer," I choked out, my voice small, broken. "You're Spencer." The devil himself, tormenting me without mercy. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve this-marrying him, maybe, taking away his precious freedom. But he'd never been caged, not really. He did what he wanted, fucked who he wanted, and I let him. So why? Why this endless punishment?

"Good," he said, biting my ear hard enough to draw a whimper. "Remember that. You're mine, Quinn. Only mine."

I smiled coldly inside. His first, sure. But me? Just one of his countless women. What did he have to be mad about? What injustice did he see in me that made him hate me so much?

There was no pleasure in it, not for me. Maybe he felt something-men were different, after all. With all those women he'd had, maybe he could find joy in this. But I couldn't. The pain dulled eventually, my body adjusting, but my heart ached worse than ever. I'd rather feel the physical hurt than this hollow, gnawing despair.

When it was over, he came inside me with a groan, his cock pulsing as he filled me with his release. Then he pulled out, leaving me wet and sore, a mess of his making. He sat back, zipping up his pants, and then, with an almost mocking gentleness, he helped me dress-pulling my panties back up, smoothing my skirt, fixing my bra and suit. Like it mattered.

"Can I get out of the car?" I asked.

Spencer's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"I value my life," I explained.

"Quinn Ashford, don't push me to my limits," Spencer said, enunciating each word. "Don't think that just because you've satisfied me, I'll indulge your every whim. You know I have so many women outside, and none of them dare to take advantage of my affection."

"I know my place," I replied firmly.

After a few minutes of standoff between us. The door locks suddenly clicked open. Spencer had given in.

"Thank you," I said.

I opened the door and stepped out.

The ground beneath my feet, my body - everything hurt a little. But I didn't hesitate for a second. The moment I closed the door, the luxury car shot forward. Not stopping for even a second.

And the way he sped away so frantically made me feel that my decision had been absolutely correct.

I didn't believe that Spencer would always be lucky enough to avoid accidents. What if there was that one time? What if it was this time?

I looked up at the sky. It looked like it was about to rain. The gloomy weather matched my mood perfectly.