12. Blood and Lies #3
“You can. You can say whatever the fuck you want.” He pulled her legs apart, pressing two fingers inside of her, stretching her.
“Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll make you a woman once and for all.
” He pressed deeper, showing her how close they’d come to irrevocably changing everything. “Say it, and it’ll be done.”
“I can’t!” she yelled, as frustrated with her inability to communicate as she was with her need to please everyone before pleasing herself.
His fingers disappeared, and then he was holding her down and glaring into her eyes, nose to nose, as he pinned her hands over her head.
“A cage is still a cage, darling, no matter how big or lavish or invisible the walls. Silence won’t make your darkest desires any less true. Neither does conformity. You’re only lying to yourself, and you’re doing so because you’re afraid the world won’t like what’s hidden inside.”
He was right. She was scared. He was awakening parts of her she could never admit to hiding.
She lived in the real world, where polite conversations and modesty still mattered.
Who would she become if she unchained herself from society’s reins?
What would her value be if she were no longer the woman her mother and father raised her to become?
He was asking for authenticity, but that level of truth terrified her. She feared rejection, her parents’ disapproval, and her reputation burning like a bridge until all she’d worked toward was nothing but soot and ash on the wind.
The thought left her mute. It wasn’t by choice or stubbornness. Her silence was truly a result of fear. Fear that once she admitted such things, the words could never be unsaid. The thought paralyzed her.
He dragged his lips to hers and kissed her slowly. “I can taste it on your tongue. You have so much inside you want to say. Whisper it to me, and the cage will fall. Speak your desires, and I’ll make them yours.”
“I need…”
He hung on her silence, his eyes alert and his desire to free her clear, but her words were trapped, and she couldn’t get them out.
“Say it. Tell me, and we’ll demolish the cage together so you’re finally free.”
Her gaze snapped to his, her enemy shifting into a dangerous enabler who could destroy her but also liberate her from the crushing weight that came with aligning with polite society. She couldn’t be a part of her destruction, but she didn’t want it to stop.
“Say it.”
It was there, lodged in her throat like a poison she couldn’t get out. “I want…” she swallowed, but the truth stayed wedged in her throat. “I like it when you…”
“When I what?”
She didn’t know the words. Mortification choked her. She needed him to be the big, bad wolf, to take all the choices and responsibility away.
Her eyes closed. “I can’t say it.”
His hand closed around her throat. “Is it here?” His grip tightened, and she nodded, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. “Do you need me to force it out of you?”
Her lashes lifted, and she met his stare. What did he mean?
“I can, you know. I can make you do all the horrible things you’re too embarrassed to say.
It’ll be easy because you want to. And the moment you stop hating yourself for wanting such sinful things, all that resistance will disappear.
” He leaned down, his breath teasing the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Whose approval do you want most, darling? Theirs, or mine?”
Her heart raced wildly. It was a horrible betrayal.
He was her enemy who planned to vanquish her, not her hero. She needed to keep sight of who and what he was and not romanticize this into something it wasn’t.
But the paradox was pulling her in. In relinquishing power, she was liberated from the weight of decision, from the endless labyrinth of choice and consequence. Submission offered an escape hatch, a space where her mind could unlatch and her body could simply be .
How had he stripped her so bare so quickly?
He’d narrowed her focus to the immediacy of sensation, the rhythm of command and response.
It was uncomplicated art, simplistic and raw.
And she craved feeling so untethered, wondering what it was that he did to anchor her so completely in the present moment.
A tear seeped from the corner of her eyes as she looked up at him—a dark and dangerous stranger with his hand cuffed around her throat. His was the only approval that mattered at that moment.
“Yours, sir. I want yours.”
His victorious smile was slow and wicked. “There it is, the truth you were so afraid to admit.” He rocked his hips forward, grinding his arousal into her thigh as his finger pumped shallow dips in and out of her. “There’s so much I’m going to teach you.”
His kiss was a devastating show of promise and desire that further pulled her under.
She feared she might never see her family again.
What if he changed her so much that she lost her sense of connection to the girl she was?
What if she forgot where she came from and no part of her life fit her anymore?
It was more than surrender. This ship, this place, this man…they were reshaping her into something she couldn’t fully envision, but she knew she would never be the same once this was over.
“A symbol of broken resistance.” He sank his fingers deep, and she gasped when he fully penetrated her. It was quick and complete, the physical barrier of her innocence gone.
His long fingers dragged down her stomach, leaving a pale smear of pink. “Crocodile tears won’t help you now, little mouse.” He softly caressed her breasts. “Though you are beautiful when you cry.”
She was glad to be rid of one hurdle, though she never expected it happening this way. “Thank you, sir.”
His mouth twitched as he sensed her genuine gratitude. Then he slowly admitted, “It was my pleasure.”
She weakly smiled. Yes, it was. But the relief of being rid of such a barrier was hers.
He gave her a choice, and she chose to surrender.
Power was ceded, and now she must make him her greatest priority, as he commanded. “I’m glad you’re pleased.”
He cocked his head as if trying to decipher any motive behind her words. “You’re as dangerous as a siren, aren’t you?” He caught her by the back of the neck and pulled her into a possessive kiss.
Once more, awakening something inside of her. Should she ever get off this ship, she wasn’t sure she’d ever go back to being the proper, well-mannered, conforming woman she’d been groomed to be.
The longer he kissed her, the more unhinged her desire to have him grew.
She clung to his shoulders as he pressed another finger inside of her, stretching her more than before.
He countered every ounce of pressure with pacifying pleasure, stroking and kissing her breasts, nibbling her ear, and delicately licking her lips.
He used pleasure-pain to build her tolerance for more, and the duality of his touch showed her just how far her body could be pushed.
Sensations built and transcended into an overwhelming unknown as he mastered her like a fine instrument. Soon, she was digging her nails into his flesh and tugging at his clothes, searching for purchase as the mounting pleasure spiked.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, stroking those long fingers deeper. “Take it like a good girl.”
The tension burst inside of her like a collapsing star rushing through the galaxy.
Her toes pointed, and her muscles locked as pleasure poured from her, slickening his fingers so he could slide deeper still.
She moaned and writhed, but he kept going, hooking his fingers inside of her, probing and rubbing until she lost control of her responses, and he took full command of her body.
“Beautiful.” He kissed her possessively, her thighs wet with her climax, the proof of her arousal covering his skin.
Tears wet her face, but she had no memory of crying. It was too much, too fast to catalog every little sensation and emotion. She lost sight of where she ended and he began. A scary thought that tugged a jagged breath from her lungs and caused her to sob in shame.
His lips dragged over her features with entitled possession. “Hush, darling, Daddy has you now.”
His tongue stole into her mouth, tender and protective, a complete contrast to the rough way he had handled her before.
She stared through her damp lashes, wondering how many women actually knew pleasure like this could exist. He spoke of degradation, which might possibly be what this was, but she didn’t feel destroyed.
On the contrary, she felt taken apart and set free.
She was never meant to enjoy it, but she had. And while she should be sick with shame, she felt too good to feel anything other than liberated, even as his captive.
“I hate you,” she rasped, unable to hide her internal struggle from him.
He chuckled and kissed her throat. “Does such a lie bring you comfort?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll allow it.”
She relied on such a lie because facing her emotions at the moment was too confusing. She’d barely fought him. And he was right. She wanted to thank him.
“You’re twisted.”
His hand stilled for a split second, then he continued stroking her. “Imagine your gratitude when I fully break you. This is only the beginning, little darling.”
She shivered and closed her eyes, unable to imagine feeling more transformed than she already felt. He’d opened her mind to untold pleasure, and somehow, she was still a virgin.
She’d imagined how it would be and had a thousand different fantasies, but her mind was so limited. She never imagined anything this all-consuming. It was no wonder people found sex addicting. But she hadn’t even had sex yet.
He was right. This was only the beginning.
He slipped out of the bed, and his absence hit like palpable pain. “Where are you going?”
“Rest. I’ll only be a moment.” He moved to the table and took a sip of wine.