Wicked Stalker (Captives of the Onyx Brotherhood #1)

Fourteen

Gabriel

“You need to get the bad news out of the way immediately,” Kendrick advised me during one of several meetings preparing for Eve’s arrival.

“If you start to build a rapport with her, then hit her with the truth, she’ll feel betrayed. Do it immediately, as soon as she wakes up. I won’t lie to you. It’ll be hard, especially as you have feelings for your Eve. But a hard truth is always better than an easy lie.”

Nothing, not a lifetime of advice and preparation, could have prepared me for the heartbroken look on Eve’s face as I delivered the news. The pure betrayal. My fault. I should have just taken her without the games, gifts, and acts of kindness.

Unable to resist, I led her to believe she was part of some grand adventure. Something fun and exciting she’d be able to gossip about with Billie next time they were together. But they won’t be, because of me.

Because I wanted her.

Because I couldn’t live without her.

Because I stole her from her life and locked her into mine .

Her lip trembles, and I feel the vibration of the oncoming sob in my cupped hand. I want to kiss it better, but I can’t. She wouldn’t welcome it yet, and besides, I can’t show her any weakness. I’ve shown her too much of myself already.

She needs calm, stern authority. She responded to me so well over the nudity that I could hardly believe it was real. I expected her to run from me, attack me, yell and scream. But instead, she behaved like a perfect natural little submissive.

I’m not sorry I took her. She’s the perfect girl for me, and we’ll be happy eventually. But fuck, I’d give everything I own to take away the agony she’s feeling now.

“No,” she whispers, and her shoulders strain as she tugs on her bonds again, the calm I’d managed to bring her shattered. “No. Please. Let me go.”

“I can’t.”

I’m sorry.

I can’t say the words, but I feel them.

“Please. What about Billie? She’ll be so worried.”

Her first worry is for her best friend. It squeezes my blackened heart as I deliver the final piece of bad news. “There’s going to be a staged accident. Everyone will think you’re dead.”

It shatters her. I can see it, the cracks in her soul reflected on her face. How the fuck do people get past this? So many Wards and Brothers end up as happy couples. I’ve seen them together, eating lunch or just walking down the corridor, hand in hand. I’d let myself believe this might not be as hard as it seemed like it should be.

I was wrong.

“No.” Quiet, this time, and it seems to be the only word she can say. She turns away, and I want to hug her; but I put the damn handcuffs on, and I can’t go against what I said and take them off now. I got so caught up in her responsiveness that I forgot Kendrick’s lesson and did everything out of order.

I’ve only been Eve’s Patron for a few hours, and I’m already fucking it up.

Her body shakes, and a muffled sob splits the air. As I twist to look at her, a tear runs down her cheek. More stick in her eyelashes, and she blinks at them, unable to wipe them away. She glares at me as I do it for her, with my thumb.

That’s good. I’d rather be the target for her rage than the source of her sorrow. I need to distract her, give her something else to focus on, until I can free her hands and leave her alone to grieve her life in peace.

I take a deep breath and find the scattered pieces of my Dom persona. Before the Brotherhood, I dabbled in the edges of the local BDSM scene. I learnt the voice, looks, and mannerisms that had submissive girls happily dropping to their knees. I’ve been looking forward to giving Eve the full benefit of that and more.

And it was going well, right up to the point I shredded her world into tiny pieces.

With slow, careful movements, I gather her hair up into a ponytail and grip her by it. She stares at me, lips parted and a wrinkle between her eyes. I’m confusing her, too much back and forth. Well, this is the side of me she’ll get from now on. For a while, anyway.

I tug her hair, forcing her head back so I’m staring down at her. The perfect position to play with her tits, but it’s too soon for that, her mind too scattered. When I really touch her for the first time, I want her mind 100 percent in the moment with me.

Instead, I tilt my head to the side and frown. “We had a conversation about hiding yourself, didn’t we? That includes your cunt. Spread your knees for me. ”

I use the roughest term I can just to shock her, and it works. Her beautiful green eyes widen, then narrow. She tries to pull away and winces when I tighten my grip. “No. F-Fuck you.”

The hesitation when she swears is so fucking adorable I want to cry. Instead, I raise an eyebrow. “Tough talk. You want me to force you?”

She blanches, freezing in my grasp as I grip her knee and dig my fingers in with deliberate pressure. Her chest heaves, tits rising and falling in the most tempting way. I keep my gaze locked on her face as she stammers, “N-No. You’re sick.”

She’s not wrong. Something in her eyes gives me pause, though. A quick flick to the left, then back.

A well-known sign of a lie.

What the hell? There’s no way she wants me to do anything of the sort. Right now, she hates me more than she’s probably hated anyone, except maybe Cole and her mother.

She doesn’t want me .

But maybe some deep, buried part of her wants this .

I think of how desperately she whimpered even in her deep sleep. How long has she deprived herself of touch? Of pleasure? She drank the damn champagne. She wanted something from me, and she can’t have thought it would be all sunshine and flowers. Part of her was unhappy with the locked-up, celibate life she lived.

I give her my best, most sadistic smile. “You’re a little liar.”

Then I release her hair, crouch in front of her, and force her knees apart.

She fights it, crushing her thighs together with surprising strength. But I’m stronger. Soon, her perfect pussy is spread out right before my eyes. She freezes, all her struggles halting as I breathe in her scent. I lean in and take a deep, dramatic breath so there can be no doubt about what I’m doing .

Her body trembles. A little shudder, right up her spine. “My God, Eve, you smell delicious. I can’t wait to taste you.”

That shudder again. I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s practically vibrating. But with what? Terror? Pent-up need?

I pull back, studying her face. Glassy eyes, parted lips. Oh yes, this worked. I’ve got her full attention.

“Hold that position exactly. If those knees move in even an inch, you’ll spend the next two hours tied to one of my dining room chairs. Do you understand?”

She swallows, then nods. Not good enough. “Say ‘Yes, Gabriel.’”

She licks her lips and whispers. “Yes, Gabriel.”

The look on her face is precious, like she can’t believe what just came out of her mouth. I’ve tapped into something primal hidden deep in my Eve. She needs this.

I can’t believe my fucking luck.

I want to question her. To demand to know how long it’s been since she had an orgasm. To force her to tell me any dirty fantasies she’s had in the dark. But right now, I need her to focus on the physical. I don’t want to give her a chance to slip back into thinking.

I bring my hands to the soft skin of her inner thighs. I have to take this so, so slowly. If I grab for her breasts or pussy, she'll freak out and the spell will break. She squeaks when my fingers land, but it’s quiet. She's still in the same hazy headspace.

I start to play. With the tips of my fingers, I draw patterns on that sensitive skin. I don't look up at her, too afraid to shatter the moment, but I feel the tension as it grows in her limbs. Her breathing becomes erratic.

And, level with her spread pussy as I am, I can smell the change in her. The sweet scent of her arousal .

Closer. Closer. My finger grazes the edge of her outer lip, and she gasps, legs twitching inward. I stop them from closing with a firm hand on each thigh.

“You get one warning. Keep those thighs spread for me.”

A little crease appears between her brows as she tenses then obeys, chest heaving. I return to her pussy, tracing my fingers along the edges of her. A desperate little noise almost shoots me into a frenzy as I force myself to go slowly. She’s never felt a man’s touch here before. I need to make it count.

I speak to her in a low whisper. “You must have wanted to touch yourself so badly. How many times have you gone to sleep frustrated? My poor girl. You just couldn’t let yourself, could you? How much did you crave that release?”

I glance up at her and get a glimpse of wide eyes before she shakes her head.

I laugh and drag the tip of my finger over her clit. She jerks as if I’d stung her. I give her a second to settle, then swirl my thumb through the wetness at her entrance.

“Liar. You’re soaked. You need pleasure so badly it hurts, don’t you? It’s why you drank the champagne.”

I glide my thumb up to her clit and over it, rubbing her in firm circles. She whimpers and twitches.

“I won’t stop. You don’t have a choice, Eve. None. You belong to me, and if I want to touch you, I will.” I speed up the motion of my thumb, pressing harder as she lets out a series of strangled squeaks.

“No choice,” I repeat, voice low and hypnotic. “No choice, no shame. All you can do is close your eyes. Eve. Close them and relax. Focus on the pleasure, nothing else. Nothing at all.”

A quick upward glance shows me she’s done as I asked. Her brows are forced down in a tight line, and she’s biting her lip. Not relaxed, but focused. And she isn’t fighting me .

“When I tell you to come, you’ll come. I own your pleasure, too. I own it, but I’m so, so generous with it, Eve. It’s time. You’re going to come for me.”

I speed up my thumb again, rhythm never faltering. I can feel Eve getting closer. She’s fighting it, but there’s a part of her that wants it. I’m relentless, working her until finally, she makes a different sound. A mournful yell, half ecstasy and half defeat. Her body stiffens, and fresh moisture coats my hand as I wring every last little bit of pleasure from her.

Christ, I’m as hard as stone. She slumps, body gone boneless, chin dropping to her chest. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. And she’s all mine. She might hate me for the pleasure I forced on her, but she’ll crave it, too. She’ll want more.

I could force her to her knees right now and start to teach her how to suck my cock. I could, and oh, how badly I want to. But she’s given me enough for her first day. More than I’d dared to hope.

Time to care for my girl.

I fetch her more water and hold it to her lips. She sips it vacantly, eyes half closed, exhausted. Then I unfasten her wrists. Not quite two hours, but it’s not as though she’s in any state to be looking at the clock. She’s wilting like a flower, and even though she probably wants a shower, she needs rest more.

I lay her down on my bed and pull the cover over her. Even the thin covering of the sheet irritates me, but I can give her that much. She deserves it. She curls up right away in a tight, protective ball.

“You did so good. I know you don’t believe it, but we’ll be happy here together. I’ll leave you to rest. It’s past midnight. I’ll be in later.”

If I stay, she might not get the sleep she needs. I’ll join her later, when she’s asleep. Even as she screws her eyes tight shut, I can’t resist adding, “We have a big day of training ahead. You need your sleep.”