13. The Shadow Never Leaves #3
She should have clawed and kicked and bit him. Instead, she submitted. Why? Did she do so out of fear or was this one more way she hoped to influence him?
It seemed sacrilegious to cause such a fierce woman to cower, but he had no choice. She had to bend to his authority like everyone else on his ship.
Just as his crew had signed contracts, so had she. The end.
He wouldn’t actually send her down to the barracks where his men slept. And he’d never force anyone to live off rats in captivity. But he needed her to believe he could go that far if challenged, or she would continue to defy him to the very end.
He truly was a monster.
But there was no going back now.
“You will not confuse me with heroes from your storybooks. Do you hear me, darling? I’m not someone you can save.
Any thoughts of redemption are wasted on me, so keep your gentle caresses and give up any hopes that you could soften me by use of my name.
I’m not your fucking friend. I’m the enemy.
” A truth both of them needed to see. “And that contract you signed says your body belongs to me.”
“I wasn’t fighting you. I was only doing what came naturally to me.”
Bullshit. She wanted to disarm him with kindness to turn the tables on him.
“Maybe you should have fought. At least then I’d believe your sincerity.”
Fisting her hair, he aligned his body with hers and offered no warning as he shoved into her, asserting his total authority with a satisfied groan. She gasped, rising on her tippy toes as he buried himself to the hilt, but then she leaned into him and moaned.
He covered her mouth, not wanting to hear such sweet sounds of pleasure. Every time he expected her to hate him, she somehow had the opposite response.
“Your body fits mine like a glove,” he growled into her ear. She moaned against his hand and he flexed his hips, grinding himself deeper into her heat. He needed her this one last time. Enough to get her out of his system so he could give her back and move on.
Why did she feel different from every other woman he’d had? What was it about her? Perhaps he needed to fuck her out of his system. Maybe that was the only way to get her out of his head and think logically again.
Gripping her by the hips, purposefully leaving marks on her flawless skin, he tugged her closer, fucking her hard, selfishly, intending to bury his release so deep inside of her he’d be embedded in her for days.
She would remember his possession long after the ache in her body faded. Traces of his possession would drip down her thighs so she could see the monster he was. A cruel, unbending, villainous wretch who cared nothing for redemption and could not be saved.
Tugging her hair, he forced her body to arch into him. “Do you see how little I care for your comfort? I’m not your friend, darling. I’m your captor, and you are my filthy little slave.” He shoved her forward, thrusting deep as he forcefully came inside of her.
His muscles jerked, and his spine twitched. Never before had he had such a brutal release.
Gripping her flesh, he spread her thighs wide. His cock slid slowly from her wet pussy, and his mouth curved with a wicked grin when the proof of his claim seeped from her swollen folds.
There, he thought, as her body pulsed in his absence. “Not so virginal anymore, are you?”
When she didn’t move, he frowned and cocked his head. Her arms were trapped beneath her chest, and her dark ebony waves hid her face. He swept the strands away. Her feathered lashes cast shadows on her porcelain skin.
Was she hurt? How was she so still?
“Open your eyes.”
She blinked and looked back at him with that crystal blue stare. No tears.
“Is there something you wish to say?”
She licked her lips, then rasped, “Thank you, sir.”
His heart stopped as he staggered back. He’d been the one to order her gratitude but now regretted such an order. Forcing her appreciation only embedded lies between them, and he much preferred her raw truth.
“I don’t believe you.” They locked stares, and he challenged her to speak the truth. “If you don’t hate me by now, I’ve clearly been too soft.”
He was a mind fuck son of a bitch, purposely trapping her so she couldn’t win whatever game they played. She either admitted she hated him and faced the consequences or embraced his depravity and opened a door for far worse. Either way, she was at his mercy. Who was the master manipulator now?
Her labored breathing was as wild as her eyes as she licked her lips again. “But, sir, I liked the way you are with me.”
He stilled.
She was lying.
She had to be.
He’d stolen her choice and been more than rough with her despite knowing she was innocent and inexperienced. He was growing tired of her duplicity.
“I order you to speak the truth.”
She panted softly, her body still recovering from his use. “I am.”
Fury erupted inside him, tempting something all too alluring he had no right to imagine.
She could not be so proper and hide that much darkness inside her.
She was one of them. Nothing like the cheap women at port or the men on his crew.
This was a game she played. Nothing more. And she was going to lose.
“Is that the kind of filthy little slut you are? You like being used hard and put away wet?”
“I guess I do, sir.”
What had he awakened in her? If she was telling the truth, this behavior would not stop after he let her go. Who else would touch her like that in the years to come?
Furious at the thought of anyone else laying a hand on her, he delivered a punishing threat. “If you enjoy being used so much, perhaps I’ll call my crew in, let each one of them have a shot?—”
The breath knocked out of him as he doubled over, catching himself on the bed where she had just been. Searing pain slashed at his side. Turning his hand from his torso, he found traces of blood.
“You little bitch.”
She was fast. Faster than he thought possible and far more dangerous than he realized.
Glancing down at the gash in his side, he laughed.
He deserved that and more for making such a groundless threat.
The disgusting thought of letting any man lay a filthy hand on her should have cost him his tongue.
And he was proud of her for fighting back. But she was going to pay.
It was far from a lethal wound, but it could have been deadly had she known how to hold a knife properly. And how fucked was he for wanting to teach her?
The knife, which she’d dropped in her escape, clattered to the floor. He kicked it aside. “Not very refined of you, darling.”
Her eyes were wild as she watched him from the other side of the bed. He had the pleasure of seeing the exact moment realization set in and she understood there would be consequence for her actions. A big one.
“I’m sorry.”
A truth or a lie?
He cocked a brow, amused by the riddle she posed but still bleeding all the same. “It’s wise to be afraid.”
She mirrored his steps, backing up every time he strode closer.
“There’s nowhere you can run that I won’t follow now.”
She bolted for the door, but he got there first, slamming it shut before she opened it a crack.
“No!” she screamed and kicked as he dragged her back to his chest.
His hand closed around her throat, his bloodied fingers pressing down on her racing pulse. “Who taught you how to hold a knife?”
“No one.”
“That’s obvious.”
She slammed her elbow into his ribs, and he grunted but didn’t let her go. He dragged her down to the rug, where she fought and scratched like a feral cat.
“What did you think would happen?” Yanking the chains, he pulled her up by her wrist. “When you pull a knife on an enemy, you better be prepared to finish the job.”
“No!” She jerked her arm back before he could lock the cuff.
“Stay still!”
“No! Get off me!”
He thought he wanted her submission, but this fire in her eyes was worth far more. Somehow, he managed to get the chains onto her wrists and locked. “You have only yourself to blame!” He was covered in scratches and blood. “I trusted you, and look how you repay that trust.”
She jerked her trapped hands and growled, “You’re incapable of trust!”
“Enough!” he barked, disturbed by her statement’s accuracy.
She seethed and glared at him.
“I gave you a choice, and you surrendered. I’m not interested in your regrets or second thoughts. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Strike me again, and I really will move you below deck.”
Her eyes were wild, and her hair was a mess.
“This is my ship. No one raises a hand to me, let alone gets away with stabbing me.” It didn’t matter that he’d had mosquito bites that bled more. She’d tried to purposely injure him, and that needed to be addressed.
“You deserved it! You were going to give me away to your crew.”
“Quiet.” Hearing it from her mouth sounded even worse.
“You be quiet!”
He towered over her, and she bent back, finally shutting her mouth. “You want to challenge me? Open your mouth again and see what happens.”
Her lips pressed tight, and she shook her head. “Fuck you,” she growled through clenched teeth.
“Fuck me?”
“Yes. Fuck you,” she repeated, her voice shaking.
“Very well.” He went to the wall to turn the crank. Slowly, the slack on the chains tightened.
Her wild eyes looked up at the ceiling where the metal clinked through the iron hook. She had no choice but to clamber to her feet, and soon she was teetering on her toes, her arms stretched far overhead as the muscles in her stomach contracted and her breasts flattened from the pose.
He dragged a wingback chair to the carpet and set it aside.
“I’ve been too lenient with you.” Moving behind her, he gripped her breast with punishing possessiveness and whispered into her ear, “I’m going to punish you for what you did, darling.
And by the time I’m finished with you, no resistance will be left. ”