Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CADENCE
I can’t keep track. Drake came flying to my rescue like a freaking superhero; now he’s switched into the villain.
My arms hurt where I pulled muscles trying to escape his firm grip and liberal use of tape. Now, I glare, wary of what he might do next while my heart thuds hard enough for colours to pulse in my eyes.
Drake smirks and the pressure inside my head increases another notch until I’m close to fainting.
“That’s better,” he whispers, curling his fingers into the back of my hair, his cool touch soothing away the pounding in my temples.
My legs are spread wide, straddling him. When I raise up, trying to shift them together, a hand on my shoulder pushes me down, the weight implacable.
“Help,” I shout, the sound scaring me because the girl making that noise is desperate.
Drake just chuckles, holding a forefinger to my lips. “Shh. Even if someone heard, do you really want them to find you trussed like a chicken?”
“Better a stranger than you.”
He claps a hand to his heart, mocking me, and anger replaces fear as I struggle, chafing my wrists and twisting the tendons in my shoulders in a vain attempt to get free.
He scares me. He does.
But there’s a fluttering sensation in my stomach when his dark eyes lock to mine, stroking the side of my head as I give up, panting from the effort. The crease of his frown softens as he wipes away a trickle of blood from his eye.
“I like it when you behave,” he whispers, lips brushing against my ear, the cold tip of his nose rubbing against the softness of my cheek and igniting another twist of excitement deep in my belly. “But you can scream again if you like. Nobody’s going to come to your rescue.”
Drake presses a soft kiss to my jaw, and I instinctively flinch away, but it’s a million miles apart from the slobbering mess of Hudson’s mouth on mine.
This is delicate, light, a pinpoint of warmth that creates a matching heat inside me.
“You knew I’d make you pay when you got into my car.” The gentle puffs of his breath against my skin are a tease that leaves me wanting more. “I told you there’d be another forfeit, but you still climbed into the passenger seat.”
The pad of his thumb strokes against my collarbone and I gasp as confused signals race around my body.
He shifts his hand, lightly gripping my chin to tilt my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. The intensity makes me feel like I’m drowning, and I shut my eyes before I can sink too far.
“I like you this way,” he murmurs, fingers sliding inside the top of my shirt dress, easing apart the top button, knuckle rubbing the tender patch of skin it reveals.
A tingling sensation erupts where he touches, spreading across my breasts until they’re aching for a firmer caress. I try to pretend my nipples are simply reacting to the cooler air as the night releases the warmer temperature of the long summer’s day. A pretence that does little to fool me and has no hope of convincing Drake, not if his pleased smile is any indication.
His circular movements spread until my chest craves more. I drop my head, letting my hair fall to cover my face as my cheeks pinken with shame.
Drake is taunting, teasing, dangerous … his light touch on my skin sends me reeling until I’m desperate for more.
He’s mad but there’s a screw loose in my head that finds his intensity irresistible. Even as I berate myself for the reaction, my thighs clench tighter against his legs, my chest arching towards his touch.
Drake rubs his thumb across my right nipple, chuckling low in his throat as it tightens further, sensitivity increasing until it feels like there’s a direct line down to my core, stimulating a craving for more.
His head drops next to mine, coarse stubble brushing my soft cheek as he undoes the next button, then the last, flattening his palm against my sternum, just beneath the underwire of my bra. My lungs strain for air, like his touch leeched away their supply of oxygen, leaving me breathless.
“So eager,” he murmurs, chuckling again when I lunge to the side, twisting away. The vibrations of his laugh carry through my body, pulsing lightly where my legs rest against his thighs, skin tingling.
He pinches my nipple through the material of my bra, soothing away the jolt of pain with his palm, the sensation overloading my senses.
“Do you like it when I’m nice to you, Cadence?” He brushes his lips against my cheek, featherlight, soft, punctuating the question, then his teeth clamp on my earlobe. “Or does your body respond more when I’m cruel?”
Any response is driven from my head as his enormous hands cup my ribcage, every thudding heartbeat vibrating into his thick fingers as they splay across my back. The heat of his breath hits against my neck as he lets them rest there, not moving, while the slow-burning fire his touch ignites spreads across my skin, sinking into my flesh, then deeper, penetrating the marrow of my bones.
It’s almost a relief when he moves again, undoing the clasp of my bra, the material sagging forward until he lifts it over my head, brushing away the strands of hair it dislodges on its journey.
“That’s better,” he says with a satisfied whisper. He moves on his seat, the throbbing bulge in his jeans pressing against my defenceless inner thighs as he does, making my hips tilt, seeking a firmer touch.
I rock forward until my shoulders protest, my bound wrists caught at an awkward angle.
What are you doing? He’s already tortured you once. He hates you.
Except it doesn’t feel like hate as Drake repositions me on his lap, his head angled for a better look at his fading handiwork.
The rough pad of his forefinger traces the words, then explores further, circling my areola. His hands move with slow precision, palming my breasts at first, then holding them, his breathing turning as shallow as mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, then groans as his fingers pluck at my nipple, pinching the tender peak until my hips buck, a jolt of pleasurable pain shooting straight through my core.
I tilt my head back, staring at the sky above us, the push and pull of attraction leaving me giddy.
His mouth fastens over my nipple, tongue pressing flat against it at first, then licking and sucking, turning greedy, the sounds as his mouth works on me sending another jolt of arousal through my centre.
My fingers pulse, the tape wrapping them tight enough for the blood to pool. It matches the slow throb between my legs as his teeth graze the softening bud of my nipple, then close over it, tugging just a little, exerting enough control there’s only a faint hint of pain.
His tongue and teeth and lips make the same thorough exploration of my left breast, arm now curled around my back, pressing me closer. The soft tickle of his hair against my collarbone makes me squirm. He licks along the path of his writing, the words disappearing now, indecipherable if we didn’t already know what they said.
Then his fingers plunge into my hair and he drags my mouth to his, the softness of his lips turned to a crushing force as he increases the pressure, turning so demanding it feels like he wants to devour me whole.
His tongue teases along the seam of my lips, licking until they part to give him entry. I flinch in anticipation of his tongue, expecting the same wet mess as Hudson, an unwanted intrusion. But Drake plays with me, tongue darting in tiny explorative licks, then disappearing, drawing mine into the game. Our kiss deepens in small increments, his mouth capturing the small cries that erupt from my throat.
This is the kiss I dreamed of from the boy I gazed at during long lazy lessons for years, wanting him and hoping he wanted me. Too shy to approach, but not shy in my fantasies.
My chest clutches in a painful spasm.
It’s everything I wanted, but Drake isn’t the person I thought he was. The disconnect is painful.
Especially when I pull back to see his eyes glittering like black ice. This time, when he shifts position, he thrusts his stiff cock against me, rubbing against my panties until my trepidation turns into a shiver.
I’m vulnerable.
I’m exposed.
Like he’s reading my thoughts, Drake eases my hem higher and higher, pushing it up, up, up until it sits at my waist.
He angles my head for another kiss, this time rubbing against my flimsy underwear, increasing my excitement with every stroke.
When I moan, betraying myself, his mouth captures the sound, swallowing it whole.
“You’re so wet,” he groans, pulling back from our kiss as his fingers clamp harder around my head, massaging my scalp as he moves me where he wants me. “I can feel it through the fabric.” His finger curls, the knuckle finding my slit and pressing until the material is inside my lips. “You’re getting these poor panties absolutely soaked.”
The roaring need that bursts forward at his whispered words scares me. It overtakes my senses, demanding things I’ve shied away from in the past. Demanding his touch. Insisting he fill my pulsing pussy until it drives away the ache that lodges deeper and deeper until it frightens me. Until I can barely think above the throbbing need.
Drake bends his mouth to my ear again, sucking at my lobe, panting until the sound turns my ear into another erogenous zone, shrill and insistent. A finger slips inside my panties, resuming the rhythmic friction on my bare skin, tracing the same path as his touch excites me into a painful storm of need.
His lips find the curve of my throat as he twists our bodies at torturous angles, all for the pleasure of kissing along my windpipe, licking the hollow above my collarbones.
“Who’s Madelaine Summers?”
The question is lost in a rush of sensation, the tiny warning bell ringing in the back of my mind drowned out by the desire that grows stronger with every pump of my heart.
Then his fingers tighten on my hair, twisting it into a rope, dragging at the roots until they’re shrieking in alarm. “Who is Madelaine Summers?” he repeats, drawing his fingers away from my pussy just as I reach the edge, desperate for the promised release.
“I don’t…”
My scalp screams as he twists my hair again, throbbing when he eases his grip. “You do.” His voice is ragged as he demands, “Tell me.”
The change in direction is a slap, shocking me back to reality. I’m straddling him in a car, far from any help, incapacitated.
He lets go of my hair, pulling a flick knife from his pocket and slicing through my panties on each side, tugging away the fabric to leave me exposed. He balls them into his fist, putting the knife away, his hand cupping me with a firmer grip. The touch that would have been welcome a second ago, now sends an icicle straight to my heart.
“You can talk, or I can shove these down your throat to keep you quiet while I do whatever I want to you.”
With one twist of his fingers the top button of his jeans is undone, the zipper dragging down an inch as his hard cock strains against the thick fabric.
His finger rubs along my pussy again and this time, I struggle at the touch, tears springing from nowhere, one trickling down the side of my nose and dropping into his lap, marking a dark circle on the bunched denim.
I’m an idiot.
My arms are restrained, and my legs splayed wide, on display for the world to see. Drake coaxed a myriad of sensations from my body that I’ve never felt before.
Enough to have me near ecstasy, fully alive for the first time in years. I feel close to him, like a part of him is beating inside my heart.
But he doesn’t give a shit about me.
My pleasure is just a tool for him to get what he wants. All his touches were cold, calculated. I’m no better than a bug under a microscope with him testing to see what gets me to talk.
The realisation comes too late to do anything, but self-recriminations still pile in my brain. Pointing out the obvious. That I’m the stupidest girl who ever lived.
And Drake’s smirk grows wide, adding to the whirlpool of panic that tries to suck me into its dark void.
“I’m going to try asking you again and this time, I want you to give me a full and honest answer.” He leans back, withdrawing his hand to stare at my naked lower half with a slippery smile. Then he pulls out his knife again, stabbing the blade into the seat beside my right leg.
“You’ll answer or you’ll pay the penalty.”