30. Eli
30
ELI
F reya’s pretty cream skin goes even paler. She stares at me, her mouth parted, and I want to take my words back, but I can’t. They hang there in the air between us like a fucking guillotine about to drop. If tonight has proven anything it’s that I can’t let her go, no matter how much I should and a tiny, fucked up part of me hopes that maybe she’ll be okay with what I’m planning to do.
She closes her mouth and tilts back her head. Her throat is still red from where I had my hands on her and a kernel of guilt pops inside of me. She is too fucking good for me.
Freya was raised by a murderer, and I just told her I plan to become one.
I should be doing what she asked and ending this between us, that was the plan. But then I saw her at the bar, talking to another man. Turns out I’m a possessive motherfucker and I knew right then my attempts to distance myself from Freya had been futile.
I’m not going to let her go but I’m also not willing to let her father live. Which leaves us at a stalemate because there’s no fucking way she doesn’t hate my guts right now.
I brace myself.
Then Freya, the woman who continues to astound me, looks back at me and shrugs a shoulder. “So kill him.”
My eyes snap to hers. “Say that again?”
She breathes through her nose, her nostrils flaring as she lets the air out. “So. Kill. Him,” she repeats, enunciating each word. “My father is a monster. He deserves to be dead. If you need to kill him, kill him.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Her brow arches, challenge flaring in her eyes. “Don’t I?”
“Freya…” My heart clenches because it can’t possibly be this easy, it can’t possibly be okay for me murder someone. I’m a fucking FBI agent.
Freya shrugs off her jacket. She grabs the hem of her vest top and pulls it up and over her head. The ink Jude marked her with is gone now, leaving her scars on full display. Red, angry slashes layered with older, thicker crosses. “Kill him, Eli. Kill him because I can’t. I can’t be what he tried to make me.”
Maxwell spent years grooming Freya, forcing her to torture his victims, training her to kill. If she were ever to take a life, it might break her. But me? I know in my bones I can kill Maxwell and not give it a second thought.
Does that make me a monster? Maybe. But Freya’s not running. She’s holding my stare, her petite hands clenched into fists.
“River will be mad,” I say, still not quite believing we’re talking about this.
Freya chews on her lip. “Forget River. We’ll make it work.”
“I’d be a criminal.”
“You’d be a vigilante.”
I smirk. “Jude has you watching too much Marvel.”
Her mouth parts in mock offense and my panic fizzles out. Part of me still feels like she shouldn’t be okay with this, that I shouldn’t let her be okay with this, but Maxwell spent years torturing her. Maybe she needs him dead as much as I do.
Freya closes the gap between us and cups my jaw in her palm. “Eli, you mean more to me than my father ever has. Living my life without him in it will be a pleasure. Living my life without you in it would be hell on earth.”
I breathe in deep, reveling in having her hands on me again. “Are you sure?”
Freya nods. “Yes.” She tilts her head to the side. “Are we good, now?”
My hands drop to her hips and I pull her close. Despite our night with River, it feels like I haven’t touched her in weeks. A thrill runs through me as I realize I don’t have to hold back anymore. I’ve just shown Freya the darkest side of me and she’s still here. She didn’t look at me with disgust or tell me I’m a monster. She stepped into my arms and let me hold her. Freya is mine. Except that particular possessive thought reminds me of what she did back in the bar and jealousy floods my system.
I fix my gaze on her and curl my hand around the nape of her neck. Pressing my thumb under her chin, I tilt her head back, satisfaction humming low in my stomach at the wariness that seeps into her cloudy green eyes.
“Well, let’s see. You let another man buy you a drink, so no, we are not good.”
Her throat pulses under my thumb. “I wasn’t actually going to?—”
“I don’t fucking care, and I don’t think River, Jude, or Oz would either,” I threaten.
She looks to the side and bites her lip. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I run the pad of my thumb along her jaw and dip my mouth to her ear. “It’s alright kitten, it’s partly my fault. It’s been too long since I reminded you who you belong to.”
She shudders under me as I nip at her ear. I know the guilt is eating at her because she doesn’t fight me when I drag her down the corridor to my room.
Everything is how it was before we left for Danville and my eyes settle on the lasso hanging on the wall.
I’m not as southern as everyone seems to think, but the western aesthetic reminds me of my grandpa’s house, so I covered the bottom half of my walls with rough black wood and hung my Stetsons off hooks on the top half. I turn on the light and a warm gold glow falls over the black four poster bed.
I lead Freya over to the post on the bottom left with a hand around her upper arm. “Stay,” I order.
Her eyes narrow, her brows digging in, but she does as she’s told.
I take the lasso off the wall, smiling to myself as I run my hand over the thick rope. The end’s already in a loop but I take my time as I turn around and walk back over to Freya.
Her eyes dip to the rope, then back up to me.
I watch her fight to keep still, her body vibrating as I lower the lasso over her neck and tighten the loop till it’s flush against her skin. I hook the remaining rope over the top of the bed frame, out of Freya’s reach, and tie it off.
Her lips part, her eyes going hooded.
I grasp her chin and lift her head to the side, sliding my fingers between the rope to check she’s got room to breathe. Satisfied, and unable to resist anymore, I sear my lips to hers, not pulling back till we’re both a little breathless.
She mews a little when I straighten up, her body gravitating towards me only to be stopped by her new collar.
I smirk. “That’s a good little pet. Wait there for your master.”
Fury tints her cheeks but her eyelashes flutter in arousal. I leave her to think about who she belongs to while I go into River’s office and grab what I need.
She’s exactly where I left her when I return, her hard nipples poking through her bra and her eyes glassy.
“I think I like having you leashed,” I say as I saunter back over to her. “Makes you so much… tamer.”
She glowers at me, fire sparking under her arousal. “I’ve got claws, Eli.”
I chuckle. “Don’t I know it.” I dangle a pair of cuffs off my finger. “That’s what these are for.” After her wrists are safely secured behind her back, I take River’s tie out of my pocket and place it over her eyes.
She sucks in a breath, her other senses no doubt heightened now I’ve taken her sight away. Her body tenses when I flick open my pen knife and she jolts as I touch the blade to her skin.
“Just taking your bra off, kitten,” I soothe. “I want to see what belongs to me.” Her tits fall free, and I palm them, the soft globes making my rigid dick even harder.
Her pants and panties go next, leaving her bare to me. The soft ginger curls on her pussy glisten with arousal and I’m tempted to just bury my face between her legs, but this is a lesson Freya needs to learn.
I drop down to my knees and use my mouth to unclip the lid of the sharpie I got from River’s office. Jude was on to something when he inked her up, but what I have in mind is a little less artistic.
She squirms as I touch her. “Eli…”
“Shh,” I hush, “pets don’t talk.”
Freya laughs. “You’re such a dick,” she murmurs but she presses her lips together and stays quiet as I work.
I trail my fingers over her skin, pinching her nipples and rolling her clit before I round her body and get to work on her back and thighs.
When I’m finished, I unhook the rope from the bed frame and use the lasso to lead her over to the full-length mirror in the corner of my room.
I position her in front of me and take my hands to the blindfold before saying into her ear. “No more going to bars and picking up random guys, Freya. If you want to be a whore, you can be my fucking whore.”
I let the blindfold fall away and watch her face in the mirror as she blinks her eyes clear and takes in what I’ve done to her body.
Across her stomach are the words ‘Property of Eli March’. Below that, I wrote ‘fill me up’ with an arrow down to her cunt. Her inner thighs have the words ‘spread me wide’ on them and on her chest it says ‘feed me’ and ‘cumslut’ with an arrow pointing up to her mouth.
She shudders against me and her thighs glisten as she leaks. Her eyes close and she rests her head on my chest, but I straighten her up and turn her around.
“Don’t you want to see the rest?”
Her eyes flick up to me before she looks over her shoulder at the mirror and the ink on her ass. “It says ‘kittens have tails’,” I tell her. Her mouth parts on a soft gasp but I see the way her eyelids flutter in arousal. God, she’s perfect. We’ve talked about degradation before, I wouldn’t have done this if we hadn’t, but seeing her reaction to it is hot as fuck.
I wind the rope around my fist to shorten the leash and pull her over to the bed. “On your stomach, kitten.”
She climbs onto the bed on her knees but with her hands cuffed behind her back all she can do is lean forward and let me lower her using the rope.
I don’t bother to tie it off as I go into the ensuite to the left of my room to get the plug. It’s small, with a fluffy black feather attached to the end. I got drunk and ordered it one night back when I still thought I hated Freya. That version of me did a lot of stupid shit but I’m kind of happy about this particular drunken decision.
I grab some lube from my bedside drawer and snick the lid open, squeezing it onto the cone shaped metal plug. I lift Freya up at the hips, so her ass is high and her cheek is pressing into the comforter, then I slowly start to work the plug into her tight, puckered hole.
She groans, her cuffed hands grasping at thin air. “Shh,” I say, rubbing her rounded ass. “I’m just following instructions, kitten. Be a good little whore for me and relax. Let me get your tail in.”
My words have her pussy clenching but then she breathes out and I’m able to ease the plug all the way in. I give her butt a tap, making the feather sway, and I swear to fuck I almost come in my pants.
Done messing around, I undo the zipper to my jeans, flick the feather up onto her lower back, and slam into her pussy.
She cries out and I almost lose it as she squeezes around me like a vise. The plug makes her that much fuller, and I can feel the metal pressing on my cock through her inner walls. I’m a fucking idiot for thinking I could ever live without this. Without her.
It might be harsh of me to punish her for acting out when I’m the one who pushed her to do it, but I saw the guilt in her eyes. She needs this claiming as much as I do. So I give it to her, my hips slapping against hers as I pound into her from behind. The muscles around my shoulder blades tighten and my breathing speeds up.
I grab the lasso, wind the loose end around my fist, and pull it taut, yanking Freya up onto her knees till her back is to my chest.
“Eli, please,” she pants.
I bury my face in her shoulder, kissing and nipping bites up the length of her neck. “Who do you belong to, Freya?”
“You,” she says, her pussy clenching around me with the confession.
“And?” I ask, hammering my cock deep inside her.
“River, Jude, and Oz.”
I grit my teeth against the roiling pleasure as my balls tighten. “Who else?”
“Nobody. No one else.”
“That’s right. There’s no one else. You’re ours, Freya. Don’t you fucking forget it.” I let go of the lasso and drop my hand to her pussy. I gather her arousal on my finger before finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. There’s nothing soft and delicate about this. It’s rough and desperate and I force her pleasure to build until she’s exploding around me, her tight cunt squeezing my cock.
I pull out before I follow her over the edge.
“No, Eli.” She arches her back, trying to press her ass into my cock but I hold her hips still.
“Next time you’re mad at me, are you going to be a brat about it or are you going to talk to me?”
She freezes then slowly looks over her shoulder. “That depends. Are you going to shut me out again?”
My heart cracks. “No. Never.” I find the quick release on the cuffs and flip her over onto her back. I bury my cock inside of her cunt and hold myself over her so she can look into my eyes. “I’m a fucking idiot, Freya. I was messed up and I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I didn’t deserve you. Shit, I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go and I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you.”
She lifts a hand, cupping my cheek in her palm. “Don’t let me go, Eli. Never let me go.”
I set my jaw and nod. “I promise.”
“Now fuck me.”
I give her what she wants, thrusting in and out of her and pinching her nipples until we’re both teetering on the cliff.
Then I pull out.
“Eli… Come back.”
I ignore her complaints. “Hush now, kitten, I’m just doing what I’m told.” My finger traces over the words on her chest—feed me. I follow the arrow up to her mouth and tug on her lower lip. “Open up, my little cumslut.”
Her eyes roll back and she obeys me beautifully, letting me lower my thick cock, coated in her arousal, into her mouth.
I reach behind me to grind my palm against the soft peak of her mound and her scream when she comes has me spilling myself all over her tongue. “That’s it, baby, swallow me down.”
Her throat bobs and then she’s cleaning me, every swirl of her tongue sending ecstasy ricochetting around my body.
“Christ, Freya.” I withdraw from her mouth before she gets me hard again.
Freya sinks back into the pillows, and I lift the lasso over her head. A slight rope burn reddens her skin, and I wince. “River’s going to kill me.”
Freya’s hand covers mine on her throat. “It’s fine. I’d have said if it wasn’t.”
I nudge her nose with mine before pressing my lips to hers, imprinting every regret and apology into the kiss. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll put some aloe on it.”
After I’ve removed the plug, bathed her, and used some makeup remover to wipe off the sharpie, we settle back in bed.
“Are you okay with what I wrote on your body?” I ask, my thumb running circles over her stomach as I hold her from behind.
She hums, still a little floppy and spaced. “I liked it.”
The tension in my back softens. All four of us noticed how she reacted to Oz calling her his good little slut, and we may have talked about something like this, but I still wanted to check in with her afterwards. “You’re fucking perfect,” I say, pressing my lips to her shoulder.
“I know.” She smirks, her eyes closing as she drifts off to sleep.
“I love you, Freya,” I whisper.
I don’t know whether I don’t get a reply because she’s fallen asleep or whether she’s just not ready to say it back. I can’t blame her if it’s the latter but I’m not going anywhere anymore. I’ll keep saying it until I’ve earned it back.