God of Pain: A Grumpy Sunshine College Romance (Legacy of Gods Book 2)

I blink and pause as the world comes into a blurred focus.

I expect to find myself in my room, but the walls that greet me are entirely different.

Elegant modern wallpaper, a sophisticated sofa, a nightstand, an extravagant lamp.

What the…

All sleep vanishes from my eyes as I jump up in bed and pull the sheet to my neck, flinching at the sound of rustling clothes.

Where am I?

The last thing I remember is having that glass of champagne with Cecily and then falling…

Falling…

Into Creighton’s arms.

No. Nope.

That one was a cruel dream.

Slowly, too slowly, I let go of the sheet and swing my feet onto the plush carpet.

I’m still in my dress, so that should be a good sign.

My gaze roams around the hotel-like room for some sort of a clue, but I still come up empty. No idea what this place is, but it reeks of money and an ominous feeling.

I search for my bag, my phone, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Even my smartwatch is gone.

Okay, don’t panic.

Don’t. Panic.

I open the door and step into an equally elegant hall filled with modern paintings. After walking a while, I reach a patio that overlooks a cozy living room downstairs.

My fingers latch onto the railing, using it as an anchor while I descend the glass stairs.

I don’t think twice as I head to the entrance. To my surprise, the double doors aren’t locked. When I open them, I slam into a hard chest.

For a moment, I think this is a continuation of the dream from earlier.

For a moment, I stop and stare as if I’m caught in a trance.

Gorgeous, absolutely haunting ocean eyes swallow me in their dark depths with a promise of complete destruction.

It’s been a long time since I last saw Creighton in person, and being in his presence right now is nothing short of being shoved down from a height that’s meant to kill.

It’s being thrust into the fog and having no hope of finding a way out.

It’s breathing but getting no air.

It’s crazy how everything can change in the span of a month. There were times when I found Creighton overbearing, a little bit frightening, a little bit assholish, but this is the first time he feels…intimidating.

Like the type you’d deliberately change paths upon seeing to avoid being smashed by his disastrous energy.

He’s in his usual jeans and hoodie. His now longer hair flops to one side, kissing his forehead.

I almost forgot just how tall Creighton is and how small I feel in comparison. How his broad shoulders block the sun and he becomes everything I see. Unlike the past, though, right now, the difference in height and physique feels downright threatening.

It’s in the aura. In the way he stares at me with enough dispassion to dry up the blood in my veins and watch me as I shrivel and die.

I blink twice, but he’s not disappearing. If anything, he gains more presence.

A real presence.

My heart beats wildly in my rib cage and I could swear he feels it through my skin and my clothes.

It dawns on me then.

At this moment where my breasts are crushed against his chest and my space is filled with his cologne.

This is not a dream.

It’s more real than the breaths I’m inhaling and the air that’s mixed with his distinctive clean scent.

I step back, not-so-subtly forcing some distance between us.

Creighton’s brow dips from my breasts to my waist and down to where the dress stops above my knees.

It’s a miracle I don’t catch fire under his ruthless intensity before he slides his scalding attention back to my face.

“It’s you,” I murmur.

“You expected someone else?”

I’m not ready for the onslaught of his perfectly calm, deeply rich voice. That voice does unpleasant things to me, like turning me absolutely obsessed to the point where I attempted everything under the sun just so I could hear it again.

Including watching and rewatching some old videos in which I was bugging him to speak more than a few words.

But that’s neither for here nor now.

I take another step back. “Where am I? Where have you taken me?”

His expression, cold and callous, gains a sinister edge. “Somewhere no one can find you.”

“W-what?”

“We’re on a faraway island no one can reach. Not even your father and his gang of serial killers.”

My lips quiver, but I force myself to remain calm. “Where’s Cecily? What have you done to her?”

“Probably back to catch her classes.”

“You…made her trick me?”

“No force was involved. She agreed to help on her own, though she thought I only wanted to talk to you. I told her nothing about this plan.”

My limbs tremble the more I stare at his lifeless eyes. It’s like I’m looking at a stranger, a person without a core, a heart, or morals.

A being that’s designed for vengeance.

That’s all Creighton ever wanted, and that’s the only thing he’s actively pursued ever since he found out about my family’s involvement in his tragic childhood.

I was and always will be a tool with which he’ll use to exact revenge on Mom and Papa.

And although I figured that out a long time ago, this is the first time it’s slapped me across the face with enough strength to cause a sting in my eyes.

It takes everything in me to speak in a composed tone. “I want to go home.”

“This is the only home you’ll have. Get used to it.”

“Creighton…this is called kidnapping.”

“And you shooting me is called attempted murder, but you don’t see me putting a label on that.”

I flinch as if I’ve been punched in the gut.

And it’s not only due to his words. It’s the dispassionate way he speaks with, the coldness that coats his skin, and the cruelty that radiates off him.

I don’t recognize the man who stands in front of me. He’s a mash of particles with no heart or soul.

And I need to get the hell away from him before he does something we’ll both regret.

I let my gaze stray sideways in search of an escape.

The door is behind him, and as much as I want to use that obvious option, there’s no way I’d win against Creighton in the physical department. Not only is he bigger than me, but he literally pummels people for sport.

I’m not ready for what happens next.

I’ve been so caught up in my plans to escape that I completely missed when he started advancing toward me.

The moment I look up, it’s too late.

His body traps mine and his hand wraps around my throat. He squeezes enough that my complete attention homes in on him.

The grip is firm enough to freeze me in place, allowing me only enough air to inhale him, and fall irrevocably into him.

“You don’t need to busy that pretty brain of yours with thoughts of escaping, because that won’t be happening. You’re mine now, little purple, literally and figuratively.”

My nails dig into his wrist. “Creighton, stop this, please…”

“Don’t beg when we still haven’t gotten to that phase yet.” His fingers stroke my throat with no ounce of warmth whatsoever. “I’m going to need you to be real obedient for me, can you do that?”

I purse my lips.

“Answer the question.”

“I’m not your plaything.”

“You’re more than that. You’re the subject of my vengeance, Annika. You shot me and there needs to be retaliation.”

I don’t see it, but I can hear the sound of my heart smashing to pieces. The heart that I thought died the moment I pulled the trigger is obviously not completely gone. It keeps scratching, tugging, and attempting to burst out of my chest.

So I was right.

I had a tiny hope that the time we spent together would at least mean something to Creighton, but I thought wrong.

He’s blinded by revenge and will never see anything past it.

Despite the pain that’s breaking me apart at that bitter realization, I won’t stay to find out what he has in store for me.

I stare at his impassive eyes that I once used as an anchor while my calm voice carries in the air. “You kidnapped Nikolai and forced my brother to come get him, then you made him watch his best friend get his own throat sliced. You forced me to watch you stab my only brother while I had a gun pointed at you. While I was high on emotions. I begged you to stop, I begged you, Creighton, but you made me pull that trigger.”

Tension rolls off his body in waves as his harsh breaths fill the space, snatching mine, suffocating them, forcing me to breathe intoxicated air.

“I didn’t make you do anything. It was you who pulled the trigger. It was you who chose your family. If we were to go back in time, you would choose your family again, wouldn’t you?”

I would choose to shoot myself.

But I don’t say that. Because I need to end this fucked-up charade and make him let me go.

This situation isn’t about him or me anymore. It goes way beyond the two of us, and too many people we care about are involved.

Like his father and mine, who’ll definitely clash if either of us is hurt.

“You’re right. I already shot that bullet and killed us with it. We can’t go back in time, but we can remove ourselves from each other’s lives.”

His hold tightens on my throat until I think he’ll choke me to death. “That won’t be happening.”

I see it then, the determination, the decision he’s already made about this.

He’s keeping me.

Nothing I do or say will change anything. He meant it earlier when he told me that I’m his both literally and figuratively.

No.

No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

I’m already suffering the fallout of my actions and going crazy in my attempts to move on. I’ll simply not allow him to ruin everything by self-destructing.

Because that’s what’s happening right now. He might think it’s payback, but he’s shattering himself in the process.

I don’t think about it as I lift my knee and hit him in the balls.

The moment of stunned silence is all I need. When his hold loosens around my throat, I push him away, dart around him, and run outside.

I have no clue where I’m going, but if I find the main road, a car, or a person, I’ll be able to leave.

The sound of waves reaches me first and then as I run, I notice a shore, a rocky path, and a driveway but there’s no sign of any cars.

The house is near the beach.

Surely, there are other houses around.

I don’t stop running, ignoring the pebbles scratching the soles of my feet.

If I don’t leave, my family will be dragged into this, and I can’t… I just can’t be forced to choose again.

It’ll kill me this time.

Hard footsteps sound behind me, sure and composed, before his rough voice reaches me. “It’s useless.”

“I’m going home!” I scream without looking at him. If I do, things can only make a turn for the worse.

His steps get closer and I yelp when his closed voice sounds near my ear. “Then you better run. If I catch you, it’s over.”

I jerk but I don’t stop.

I don’t look back.

And I certainly don’t think.

I speed in the direction of the beach. Surely someone will be there, like how Brighton Island’s beach was never empty, even during the windy, cold days.

My heartbeat picks up when my toes get buried in the white sand.

Aside from the tropical-like water and plants, there’s no one in sight.

I whirl around, my back to the water as Creighton closes in on me. He looks bigger than a god and as dangerous as the devil.

We’re supposed to be strangers again, enemies even, but no amount of bullets could kill the memories between us. If anything, it made them jaded, edgy, and full of tension.

“Stop it.” I raise both hands. “Or I swear I’ll scream.”

“Do it.” His voice drops as he strides toward me. “Scream.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I.”

With his every step forward, I take one backward.

“Help!” I yell at the top of my lungs until my throat gets scratchy. “Someone help me!”

Creighton remains unfazed by my calls, absolutely detached. The more I shout, the closer he comes, the coldness on his face matching freezing ice.

“No one can hear you,” he says, keeping up the cat and mouse chase. “This is a private island.”

“A what?”

“Private island. In the middle of nowhere. No one will be able to save you from me.”

I jump when something cold hits my leg. The water. I’m at the shore now, the sea of an island at my back and this emotionless man in front of me.

And I know exactly which option I’m willing to take. I dash in the direction of the water.

“Don’t,” his voice calls behind me.

But I’m not listening as I keep going on and on, despite the chattering of my teeth and the sting of the salty water.

“Annika, stop.” The authoritativeness in his tone would’ve brought me to my knees once upon a time.

Now, other things are at stake, so I ignore it.

Water reaches my waist but I keep pushing forward.

“Annika! It’s deep on this end—”

His words are cut off when I take another step and find no sand. I fall into the water with a sudden yelp.

I’m fully submerged within seconds. I try to swim up, but it’s like an invisible hand is pulling me into the depths of nowhere.

Bubbles explode from my mouth, and panic explodes beneath the surface. I’ve never been a good swimmer and always held on to a float in the pool, which I should’ve thought about when I chose the ocean

Shit.

I kick my legs underwater and fling my hands up, but the more I push, the lower I sink.

The light coming from above dims into a dark blue and my vision blackens.

If I’d known this would be the end, I would’ve…done something different.

I would’ve—

A hand grips me by the elbow and hauls me to the surface. I cough and splutter, unable to get the air in my lungs fast enough.

My blurry vision is half camouflaged by my hair, but I manage to focus on the man who’s gripping me by the waist. With one hand and bold strokes, he swims us in the direction of the shore.

His clothes are soaked, his hair sticks to his forehead, and a muscle clenches in his jaw.

It’s unfair that he looks drop-dead gorgeous. That he drips with feral masculinity without having to do anything.

It shouldn’t be allowed, not when I’m trying my hardest to make him cut ties with me.

Once we’re in shallow water that reaches our knees, I try to pull free. Not only does he not release me, but he also stops in the middle of the water and slams me against his front.

The breath is knocked out of my lungs as I stare up at his raging eyes. “Creighton…”

“Shut the fuck up, Annika. I’m so close to being completely unhinged. Don’t test me.”

“What’s wrong with you now?”

“What’s wrong with me? I don’t know. You tell me. Since you thought it was a brilliant idea to jump into deep waters.”

A map of shivers covers my skin, and it has nothing to do with the air and is more related to the lash of his voice, the worry in it, the care that he probably doesn’t want to show it.

My voice softens. “I didn’t know it was that deep.”

“Did I or did I not tell you to stop?”

“Well—”

“Answer the fucking question.”

“You did,” I whisper out of habit, then glare. “But you were blocking me. I had nowhere to go.”

“And you never will.” His lips slam against mine, and for a second, I’m stunned.

For a second, I think I’m back in that cruel dream’s clutches and imagining Creighton’s full lips on mine.

That thought is soon dispersed when he thrusts his tongue inside. One hand fists in my wet hair and the other shoves me against him by the waist.

Creighton doesn’t just kiss me, he ravages and devours me. It’s a clash of teeth, lips, and tongues. It’s an animalistic claiming meant to remind me that I’ve always belonged to him.

I plant both palms on his chest, trying to push him away, trying with everything in me to put an end to this madness.

But he delves deeper, kissing me harder, feasting on me in ways I thought would never be possible again.

And I just can’t fight him.

Physically, emotionally, or mentally.

Still, I manage to pull back, breathing heavily. “Don’t…Creighton…”

“Don’t what?” His grip tightens on my hair and his other hand cups my breast through the transparent dress and pinches an achingly hard nipple. “Touch you? Own you like you’re mine?”

A zap of pleasure starts where he’s touching me and ends between my thighs.

It’s been so long. And no matter how much I’ve touched myself, no matter how many times I imagined his face and his ruthless touch, nothing could bring me the unbound ecstasy only he can trigger.

“Just stop whatever you’re doing.” I dig my fingers in his hoodie. “Let me go home.”

“So you can be your parents’ perfect little doll and marry whoever they pick for you?”

“What if I do? It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” His voice darkens in sync with his eyes. They’ve become dim now, a pure imitation of a starless night.

He twists my nipple so hard that I gasp, but he doesn’t stop there. He tugs on my dress’s zipper and yanks it off me and then the bra follows. His hands are quick, meticulous, and so savage that I’m out of sorts.

My dress and bra are thrown to the shore, but my panties don’t have the same fate. He all but shreds them, letting the massacred pieces scatter in the ocean.

When he pinches my sensitive nipple again, it’s skin to skin, flesh to flesh, and with so much command that I melt. I’m so lightheaded that the crash of the waves against my legs causes me to sway.

“Everything about you is my fucking business.” He releases my hair to unzip his jeans and pull out his hard cock. “You might have thought it was over, but it’s not. Far from it.”

He hooks his hands beneath my thighs and lifts me up so that I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist and circle his neck with a hand.

The moment I search his eyes, he rams inside me in one go. My head falls on his shoulder from the force of it, coupled with a strangled sound.

It’s been only a month, but it feels like a year.

He stays there for a bit, unmoving for a second as we breath each other in, fall into the lull of us. The sound of the crashing waves echo around us as we dig our fingers into each, both literally and figuratively. Just when I’m falling into the moment, he thrusts all the way inside until I physically jerk.

Then he does it again, and again, ramming his cock inside me in a ruthless rhythm, fucking me, owning me.

Punishing me.

My head falls forward and I dig my nails into his back.

It’s a useless attempt to hurt him as much as he’s wrecking my world apart. He fucks me with enough command and assertiveness that I have no choice but to let it happen.

I want him with so much desire that drives me insane. I want him as wildly as he wants me.

“This cunt is mine. You are mine, Annika. Nothing and no one will change that. Not your father.” Thrust. “Not your brother.” Thrust. “Not even you.”

He’s like a madman. There’s no stopping him and certainly no reasoning with him. He drives inside me with a power that I’ve never felt before, and that says something since he’s always been intense in some way.

This time, he doesn’t even need to inflict any pain. He’s the pain that’s brimming with pleasure.

The sliver of light in the middle of the darkness.

He’s both day and night and I have no escape from his orbit.

“Creighton…” I moan, shoving a hand against his chest. “Slow down…I can’t take this.”

“You can. You always did.”

“This is too much.”

“You know what’s too much? Thinking you can marry some sorry fuck after I’ve claimed you. After I put my fucking mark on you.” He slides his hand up to cup my jaw, tilts it back, then bites on my throat. Hard. So hard that I gasp. “It’s believing I’d ever let you go.”

“But you hate my family,” I sob the words that have been plaguing me, the words that make this pleasure so screwed up.

“I can still fuck you.” His tongue darts out and he licks my tears as he whispers, “Remember this, Annika. There’s never been a day where you haven’t been mine.”

Then he drives so deep that he hits my sensitive spot over and over.

And over.

The moment his teeth find the sensitive flesh of my throat again, a powerful orgasm hits me and I release enough noises to disturb any living creature around.

Creighton doesn’t slow down, doesn’t take it easy, and he certainly doesn’t stop.

He goes on and on like a machine that’s bent on destruction. He fucks and spanks my ass. He pulls my hair and bites my neck, my shoulder, the top of my creamy breasts, anywhere he can reach.

By the time he stiffens and spills inside me, I’m spent.

Completely and utterly done.

“Mine,” he growls against my lips as he devours them again, rips them with his teeth, and fucks them with his tongue.

It’s a possessive kiss.

A declaration of a savage claim.

I can’t help the fresh tears that slide down my cheeks.

I hate myself for wanting the man who only sees me as a form of revenge.

I hate myself for not trying harder to run.

But I will.

Sooner or later, I will end this ill-fated relationship. This time, without getting my family involved.