Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives) (37 page)

Beth
spotted the needle on the bedside cabinet. Panic and dread seized her, making
her drop her rolled up clothes and run for him. “Dante!” She patted his face,
praying he hadn’t OD’d. When he didn’t react, she jumped onto the bed and
started shaking him. “Dante! Wake up, wake up!”

He
moaned, the sound the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. She grabbed his face and
started kissing him all over it, relief washing over her like nothing she’d
ever felt before. Then it was all gone in a second as he pushed her away,
yelling at her to get off him. She fell backwards, shocked at what he’d done,
but perhaps she shouldn’t have been, especially after their split.

He
looked panicked for a moment, then his gaze locked onto her, recognition
registering in his eyes. He scrambled across the bed and grabbed her, hugging
her tight. “I thought you were Ant.”

The
memory of what Craven’s son had done to the redhead returned. She pulled back
and cupped Dante’s face, looking into his spaced-out eyes. “Did Ant hurt you?”

He
lowered his gaze, like her question had shamed him.

“What
did he do to you?” she said loudly, praying that Ant hadn’t done what she was
thinking.

“He
hurt my balls.” Dante reached up and touched her face, brushing her hair aside.
“You’re not real.”

“Yes,
I am.”

“No,
you’re not, cos you left me for another man.”

“Why
would you think that?”

“Josie
told me.”

“She’s
lying.”

“I
knew it; I told her you wouldn’t do that to me.” Smiling, he closed his eyes,
like he was going to fall asleep again, his body wavering.

Beth
shook him. “What have you taken?”

He
opened his eyes. “R-relaxant.”

“You
can’t have, your cock’s hard.”

He
glanced down at it, then back up, the look on his face telling her—he grabbed
her head and kissed her before she could stop him. Beth stiffened, her mind
returning to Saul, her body freezing up in the same way. Dante groaned, his
familiar tone breaking through, making her relax a fraction, although she still
felt scared, the urge to push him away strong.

He
pulled away before she could, then flopped back onto the bed. “Make love to
me,” he said, looking vulnerable, as though he expected her to say no.

She
shook her head, knowing both of them weren’t in the right state of mind for
sex. “Not while you’re high.”

He
turned on his side, hiding his face. “Just admit it; you don’t wanna do me, cos
I’m a dirty whore.”

Surprised
by his words, she tugged him onto his back. “You’re not a whore, and why would
ja say that?”

“Cos
I am,” he said, his expression hurt, “otherwise you’d make love to me, not look
at me like I’m filth.”

“I’m
not lookin’ at you like that,” she said, wondering whether she was. She didn’t
think so, but after what had happened with Saul she wasn’t sure of anything.

“Then
make love to me.” When she didn’t answer, he screwed up his face like he was
going to cry. She didn’t want to have sex after what Saul had done, but the way
Dante was looking at her was cutting her in half.

She
lay down next to him and kissed his lips, reassuring him that she still wanted
him. He kissed her back, then grabbed her robe, trying to yank it down. She
pulled back and smacked his hands away. “No touching,” she said, using the
words he’d once said to her. “I’m in control.”

A
smile surfaced across his face, telling her he was game. He watched as she
slipped the robe and blouse off, his eyes instantly latching onto her breasts.
Climbing on top of him, she grabbed his cock and positioned it over her pussy,
then shoved it inside without preparation, the burn making her scream, so
delicious, so painful, so everything she needed, wiping out all thought for that
moment in time.

Dante
sat up, his face alarmed, but she pushed him back down. “I like it,” she
hissed, “I need it.” And she did, because this was how she wanted things: with
the man under her, laid out for her pleasure, not his.

He
stared up at her with eyes so wide, resembling those princes from the Disney
cartoons, innocent and sweet, not understanding what was happening, which she’d
never seen before; Dante usually the aggressor. It thrilled her, but also
scared her, making her think that she was taking advantage of him, like Saul
had taken advantage of her. But it wasn’t the same, Dante wanted this, asked
for it, but still, he was drugged and she wasn’t.

“You
okay?” she breathed out, the pain inside of her making it hard to talk, her
walls clenching around his cock. “You want me to stop?”

He
shook his head, then grabbed the bars of the headboard and tilted his head
back, groaning: “Fuck me.”

Those
words hit her, their crudity exactly what she needed to hear, because she
didn’t want to make love to him—she wanted to fuck him hard. She started riding
his cock, the pain diminishing as her insides adapted, the up and down rubbing
against her clit, causing her to pant. It was too intense, way too intense, but
she needed it,
wanted
it, and right now she didn’t care how she got it.

Dante
moaned, “Bite my nipples.”

Remembering
how he’d bitten hers, she leaned over and took one between her teeth, biting it
softly.

He
arched upwards. “Harder.”

She
did.

“Harder!”

She
bit down more. He cried out, his whole body going rigid. She moved to his other
nipple and bit it too, getting the same reaction, Dante’s cries exciting her.
She sat up and started riding his dick again, grinding herself against him,
pushing so hard she thought she’d crush bone, but too desperate to stop, the
pleasure building up, making her realise she was close to release. She braced
her hands on the headboard and picked up speed, her breath coming out hard and
fast, the need for more pressure, more friction driving her forward, everything
below sending sparks up through her body, totally drawing her in, taking
control of her mind.

Rough
hands grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, making her squeal, the
sudden movement snapping her out of her high. Dante pushed her onto her stomach
then climbed on top of her, shoving his cock inside, going at her hard, his
grunts mingled in with heavy breathing, but not the type she expected. She
glanced behind her, surprised to find him crying.

“What’s
wrong?” she said, trying to turn around, panic starting to swell in her chest,
not only over his tears, but from his roughness, not something she wanted,
because she was supposed to be in control, not him!

Ignoring
her, he spat onto his fingers, then shoved one into her arse, making her gasp.
He moved it around, causing Beth to seize up, her insides trying to repel his
finger, but she remained silent, too stunned to say a word, her mind not
understanding what was happening or why he was doing this.

He
pushed another finger inside of her, then a third, the burn hurting, and so
wrong, wrong, wrong. She wanted to tell him to stop, but couldn’t get her mouth
to work, couldn’t do anything but lie on her stomach, frozen in disbelief. Her
mind went back to Saul, and how she’d frozen up with him, but she’d snapped out
of that, so why couldn’t she do it now, because she didn’t want this any more
than what Saul had done.

After
what felt like an eternity, Dante finally removed his fingers, pulling out of
her pussy at the same time. Beth breathed out, the relief intense. She went to
yell at him, but before she could get a word out he slammed his cock into her
arse, ripping out a scream so loud it hurt, but not as much as the burn below,
the pain so intense, no pleasure involved.

He
started moving inside of her, groaning as he took something she wasn’t willing
to give. She lay still, shock again making her an inanimate piece of nothing as
he fucked her arse, filling a place that should’ve been left untouched. He
continued to rut her like an animal, making sounds that went with it, dirtying
her just as much as Saul had done. Then something changed as a spark of
pleasure ran through her body. She let out a cry, not expecting it. He placed a
hand on her pussy, the pressure from both sides doubling the feeling. Needing
more, she pushed his hand away and started rubbing herself. Grunting his
approval, he moved his hands to her hips and began fucking her raw. She started
crying, knowing she was sick for doing this, that God would punish her, but
needing the release so bad, the pleasure urging her forward. The pressure
continued to build, making her beg Dante to pound her, although guilt still
screamed at her to stop, but she couldn’t, not even if Saul walked in on them.
She imagined the man watching her, then before she knew what she was doing, she
was thinking about his powerful body draping her instead of Dante, his big hard
cock filling her, fucking her. Her body stiffened, her mind trying to force him
out of her head, but he remained there. She glanced behind to get an image of
Dante, wanting to see and feel him instead. Dante had his head tilted back; the
length of his muscular neck and body exposed to her, so beautiful—the man pure
sex.

Dante
slammed into her, ripping out another scream from Beth, the pain so exquisite
it swamped her mind, erasing all thought. He dug his fingers into her flesh,
growling at her that she was his, that no one was allowed to touch her but him,
that he would find a way to be with her, his words shooting right through her,
piercing her heart and soul, pushing her further, making her cry out for
release, wanting it, begging for it, no longer caring how she got it—

She
screamed one last time, everything in her body going rigid, the orgasm jolting
right through her, making her come harder than she’d ever done before. Dante
cried out on top of her, his cock pumping away, filling her with his need and
cum, then without warning he pulled out and jumped off the bed, leaving her
lying there, her mind still locked on her orgasm, not wanting it to end.

A
door slammed, making her jolt upright, the pain below causing her to wince. Her
gaze moved to what looked like a bathroom. She went to get up, but flopped back
down, her body feeling battered and bruised, yet satisfied beyond description.
She touched her arse, her eyes widening at the sight of blood on her fingers.
It was only a few spots, but it still scared her. She swung her legs over the
side of the bed, then bolted to her feet as something leaked out of her, but
not from the expected place. She looked down at the bedcover, which had her
blood speckling Dante’s cum, her body rejecting it all, the place it had been
pumped into wrong, wrong, wrong. She glanced up at the ceiling, saying: “I’m
sorry,” shame now battering her conscience, making the pain worse. Was this what
rape felt like? Saul came to mind. No, it wasn’t. Although she hadn’t expected
Dante to penetrate her like that, she hadn’t stopped him, even came while he’d
done it, in a way encouraged him by rubbing herself, but, God, she shouldn’t
have done that, because only homosexuals had sex that way. Anger filled her.
She’d come in here wanting comfort, yet he’d taken her in a vile manner, not
caring about anything but what he wanted. But her body had wanted it too,
ignoring her mind as it screamed
no.

Her
gaze moved back to the bathroom. No light seeped from under the door, the room
completely silent. She headed for it, hissing at the sting below, then pushed
inside and switched on the light. Her gaze brushed over the shower before it
dropped to the floor, where Dante lay curled up, sobbing his heart out.

“Dante?”

He
didn’t react, instead looking like he was lost in his own world of misery.

She
lowered herself gently down, hissing again from the pain. “What’s wrong?” she
asked, wondering whether the drugs were causing it. “Why are you crying?”

“I
fucked him, I fucked a guy, I didn’t wanna, I didn’t, the repo men tried to
take my Holden,” he babbled. “I had to; he said he’d pay it off, but I can’t
work as a prostitute, it hurts, it hurts, but I hafta, cos Craven’s making me,
or he’ll kill you and Ash.” He started to tremble.

She
jumped up and grabbed a robe off the door. Pulling it on, she ran out of the
bathroom and headed for the other exit. Knowing it was locked, she started
banging on the door, screaming for help. After several seconds, she ran back to
Dante, who’d gone pale, his body shivering badly. She grabbed another robe and
threw it on him, trying to warm him up with both the material and her own body.
She screamed for help again, her voice making Dante jolt.

He
started babbling again, “I love you, I love her, I can’t do this, I can’t, but
I hafta. For Ash, for you, I hafta. It’s my fault, I caused this, I caused
this...”

The
sound of a door opening caught Beth’s attention. “In here!” she shouted.

Saul
and the leathery skinned thug appeared in the doorway. “What happened?” Saul
asked.

“He
won’t stop shaking; he’s really cold, too cold.”

Saul
pushed Beth aside and yanked Dante onto his back. He checked his pulse then his
eyes, before turning to glare at the thug. “What the fuck did you put in that
syringe?”