Chapter 1 #2
“You like that, Little Bird?” he asks, pressing a finger into an open wound on my back. His other hand comes between us and pushes down onto the tight bud at the apex of my thighs. Sharp fire races across my skin to meet the flare of pleasure flowing from my core.
“Yes, fuck yes, Daddy. That feels so fucking good,” I reply in a husky, sultry voice, filled with a longing that I rarely feel when I’m with one of the Soldiers.
My father’s men do not inspire feelings of desire, and I find my stomach feeling heavy with the anticipation of dread that never materializes.
I want him badly, and that might be the most surprising thing that has happened to me since my capture.
I shamelessly grind against his hand, electric pulses zinging over my skin at the heady mix of pleasure and pain.
“Please, Daddy, I need you inside me so fucking bad.”
I give no shits that I'm pleading with this god-like man, one of my supposed enemies. I'm suddenly burning with a need that only he can ease.
My arms leave his neck, shakily coming down to his belt buckle and undoing it, the clanking sound loud in the room.
He doesn’t stop me, just holds completely still, and I pause, my gaze flitting upwards to see if he wants this.
I might be willing to use him, but I’d never do anything that he didn’t want.
I know the feeling of being forced all too well.
Seeing his hooded gaze on my peaked nipples and his tongue coming out to lick his plush lips has my fingers popping open the top couple of buttons on his jeans, a breath hissing out of me at the slight pain from my missing fingernails.
I pull his hard length out and my knees almost give way at how silky he feels in my palm.
At how big he is, and how delicious his cock looks.
“Little Bird…” he groans when I wrap my fingers around his length and pump my hand up and down, relishing the piercing pain of his fingers digging into my ripped-up back. “Fuck it.”
In the next moment, both of his hands are under my thighs and are hoisting me up so that I have to wrap my legs around his waist. My own arms come back up, hands grasping his shoulders as I steady myself.
A keen leaves my lips when he slams me up against the wall next to the door, the pain from my back ricocheting across my entire body and leaving me dizzy.
He pins my body against the wall, as one hand leaves my leg, and I look down to see him lining himself up with my entrance.
I’m not quite wet enough, but my eyes roll as he forces his way inside me, inch by thick inch, the burn fucking exquisite.
His hand returns to hold me under my thigh, squeezing as he pushes inside me.
“Shit, Little Bird,” he rasps out, pushing the last part of his length inside me until our bodies are flush. “Your pussy feels like fucking heaven.”
“Less talk, more action, Daddy,” I tease him, voice breathless with just how incredible he feels. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, the mix of sharp pain from my back and the pleasure of his cock sheathed inside my aching pussy a heady feeling.
It’s fucked up. His people—the Tailors—have tortured me for fuck knows how long.
I’m broken physically and mentally into small, shattered pieces, lying in a dungeon with a stained mattress on the floor and a bucket to piss in, but this guy, whatever his name is, makes me feel more alive than I have in a long time. Even before I came here.
“You giving me orders now, Little Bird?” he questions, his voice deep and gravelly as he holds still inside me. My pussy walls flutter round him like a moth to a goddamn flame. “Maybe I should leave you now, cunt aching for me to fill it again.”
“No!” I clamp around him, my inner muscles squeezing his dick like a vise, and he lets out a grunt.
“Please, Daddy. Make me scream your name and come all over your beautiful cock.” I feel fraught, even more so than when I was tortured.
Having this escape from my current shitty situation makes me beg like I never have before. “Please, Daddy.”
He stares into my pleading eyes, his own filled with lust, and something else. Perhaps sorrow or resignation. I don't care if this is a pity fuck though. I’m too desperate for him not to stop, not to leave me so cruelly unfulfilled.
“If I were Aeron, I’d leave,” he murmurs. I know who Aeron Taylor is, and pray that I never meet him in the flesh if he’s that much of a cunt blocker. “But fuck, you feel too good to stop, princess.”
He pulls almost all the way out before slamming my back on the hard, unforgiving concrete.
It feels like my entire body is burning, the opposing sensations almost too much.
A low moan falls from my parted lips, my eyes closing as I give myself over to him completely.
It’s something that I’ve refused to do when other men have taken their pound of flesh.
Both here and back at Dead Soldier HQ, but I want to relinquish control with this stranger.
“Look at me, Little Bird. I want to watch you come undone on my cock,” he orders, voice strained. My lids obey immediately, snapping open to stare into the hazel depths of his irises. They burn me up from the inside, obliterating me as surely as his hard length pounds into my cunt.
“Daddy, fuck that feels…” I can't even finish my sentence, the pleasure-pain reaching a crescendo until I’m just a being made from it, and everything else melts away.
The dark, dank room.
The fucking drip.
It disappears under the heavy glow of my impending explosion, and I marvel at this thing I’ve only ever experienced with my own hand a very long time ago.
“Knox,” he groans out, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his temple. I lean in and lick it off, the saltiness bursting on my tongue and making my taste buds tingle. “Say my name when you come, Little Bird.”
Unbidden, my mouth forms his name. It leaves my lips like a prayer with every hard, punishing thrust between my thighs until I can no longer form coherent thoughts as I shatter from pleasure instead of just pain this time.
A strangled cry echoes around the room as I climax.
My inner walls clench and grip him, making him work harder to thrust into me, extending my orgasm until I’m a shuddering, hot mess clinging onto him for dear life.
With a deep, desperate moan, Knox reaches his own peak, biting down hard on my neck and triggering another orgasm to tear through me. I whimper, my throat even more raw than it was before.
“I see you got waylaid,” a drawling voice sounds from next to us.
My heart thuds hard in my chest, but the endorphins racing around my body coupled with the way Knox holds me tightly has my initial panic quickly receding.
I languidly turn my head to find startling, ocean-blue eyes staring back at me, filled with amusement and a heavy dose of lust.
Something about them gives me pause and holds me back from falling into their watery depths.
I realize with a tremor that underneath the apparent desire there’s a coldness, like the fathomless deep where deadly things live.
There’s a deadness in his stunning, blue orbs that tells me this guy is someone to be wary of.
“Ah, shit,” Knox whispers, pulling out of me and gently lowering me down to the ground. A rush of wetness leaves my pussy, our mingled release tracking down my thighs, and looking down, I see it's tinged red with the blood from my back.
“You made the Dove bleed, Knox,” the blue-eyed stranger admonishes, but not like he cares much.
When I look back up, I can see that he’s excited, like a shark who’s caught the scent of blood in the water.
His tongue darts out to lick his lower lip as he stares at the mess dripping down my inner thighs, and the move makes my core clench.
His pitch-black hair is slicked back, not a strand out of place, and his tailored suit is pristine.
He’s even got a fucking pocket handkerchief.
I smirk and extend a trembling arm, my back smarting somewhat now that the endorphins are leaving my system in the aftermath of our violent fucking.
Taking hold of the square of navy silk that matches his eyes perfectly, I pull it out of his pocket, his cold contemplation never leaving me.
Breaking his stare, I look down and use the handkerchief to mop up the bloody cum, folding the fabric up messily once I'm done, and placing it back into his pocket.
“Something for later, Devil Man,” I tell him with a wink.
The skin around his left eye twitches—yay twinning!
—but other than that, he gives me no reaction.
The heat in his eyes flares, and I’m not sure if it’s because of my challenge, or if he plans to wank off over the cum-stained hankie he now owns.
“Don’t say I never give you anything,” I tease, feeling Knox’s chest shake with laughter behind me.
“She’s fucking funny, right, man?” the blond god says between chuckles, finally stepping back and tucking himself away again.
“A regular comedian,” the devil man replies without so much as a twitch of his lips. “Bring her upstairs so the others can meet the Dove.”
And with that, he turns on his polished heel and stalks down the dark corridor.
“It's Lark, asswipe! A completely different type of fucking bird!” I hoarsely yell after him, huffing and placing my hands on my hips, ignoring the fire that's taken over my back and making my limbs tremble.
“Others?” I question, turning around and looking at Knox with my brows arched into my hairline, feeling a pooling sense of dread mixed with excitement at the word. At the possibilities.
“Yeah, they sent me down to come get you before we got—”
“Waylaid?” I supply, unable to stop the goofy grin from lifting my lips.
“Yeah. Waylaid,” he replies, emphasizing the last part like I did, which makes me giggle. “Come on.”
“Already done that, big boy,” I sass him, taking a step and feeling the entire room spin, my vision darkening. Ah shit.
I expect the slam of my body onto the concrete floor, my body tensing in preparation, but the pain never comes as I’m wrapped up in cloves and petrol, and lifted into the air before the darkness makes me its bitch and claims me.