The invisible hold that had been on my throat loosens and a cry pours out of me at the sensation of being split in two. Fire spreads from the point of pain and I swallow the scream building in my chest, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
I look away from him and start to think of anything else, to get away from the moment as swiftly as possible. I begin to count one to hundred, my chest heaving in a sob.
But Ruin doesn't let me escape.
He pinches my nipple between his thumb so hard that the sound loosens from me. But it is not a scream of pain.
It is something far worse.
The sound of my mind fracturing to accommodate the thought of what is happening, and the fire spreading up to my middle, the fogginess that has nothing to do with pheromones slipping into my senses.
Four, five, six...
Ruin pulls out and thrusts back in.
What number comes after six? What number...
