Sex God by J. A Melville

Author:J. A Melville [Melville, J. A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J. A Melville
Published: 2017-05-08T16:00:00+00:00

Shay

My father’s fingers bit into the skin of my arms and his voice was harsh in my ear. “Keep still.” I could feel his spittle spray across my cheek. “You owe me for raising you, you little bastard. We both have our debts to pay off.”

The man behind me was thrusting into me so hard it hurt. Why wouldn’t my father or that man listen to me when I told them to stop? It hurt. It always hurt and the pain would stay for a few days afterwards. It would hurt to sit down. It would hurt to use the bathroom. There would be blood…

“No.” I cried, tears flowing down my cheeks. “No…it hurts…stop…it…you’re hurting me.” I sobbed but the pain just kept going on and on, unrelenting. “No dad…please…make him stop.”

“Don’t call me that you fucking little shit.” More saliva sprayed against my cheek as my father snarled the words at me, his fingers biting into my wrists as he held me still so I couldn’t fight the invasion of the man behind me.

“Shay…Shay…wake up. Please wake up. It’s ok. You’re safe.” A woman’s voice came to me. It got louder and louder until it drowned out the voices of my father and the other man. It dragged me away from the blinding fear. It dragged me away from the anger I saw in my father’s eyes. But most of all it dragged me away from the pain. That searing, unrelenting pain I felt, each time that man who made those god awful grunting sounds, fucked me over and over again.

My eyes shot open and with my heart pounding so hard I wondered if it might burst free from my chest, I looked into the panicked face of Lyla.

“Shay, are you ok? Jesus Christ, you scared me half to death. You were crying out. You must have been having an awful nightmare. I couldn’t leave you like that. I had to wake you.” She sat down by the bed, her fingers brushing against my cheeks and it was then that I realised I was crying.

“Fuck.” I muttered, swiping at my tears, suddenly embarrassed that she was seeing me like this. Damn dreams were doing my head in and I was revealing too much to Lyla. I could tell by the sympathy I saw in her eyes. I didn’t need her sympathy. I didn’t need her pity. I was fine. I’d been dealing with these dreams alone for years and survived.

“What happened to you baby?” She asked, her hand coming up to cup my cheek and for some inexplicable reason I instantly fell apart. I should have just raged at her, driven her away by being an asshole. I’d already proven I was good at that, but I didn’t.

Maybe it was something about the tone of her voice? Perhaps it was her hand on me? It could have been the soft way she called me baby. More than likely it was because I was weakened by the virus ravaging my body.

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