Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
RACHEL
Between my thighs, I’m sticky, but I don’t hurt. He could’ve been so much rougher.
I twist until both his legs are behind me, and I’m free to move mine. Sasha’s asleep. His breath ruffles my hair. I think about wrapping the chain around his neck to kill him, but I don’t try it.
I also don’t cry. My head tells me I should be upset. He kidnapped me. He chained me up and took my virginity. And he didn’t apologize for any of it. I should be furious and devastated and clawing his eyes out or crying uncontrollably. But instead, I’m calm. I guess I’m in shock?
And a little voice reminds me that when he hesitated, I told him to keep going. What the hell is wrong with me? Haven’t I suffered enough?
Slowly the questions begin. How did he know I’d be at the theater? How long had he been planning to abduct me? How long has he known that he got shot because of me? What else does he know?
The questions make me restless.
I slap his thigh, and he stirs. “Get up.” I hit him again.
He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand behind me, pressing it into the hollow of my back.
“Behave, Raven.”
“I plan to. Step one is to kill you.”
He exhales a small laugh.
I sit up and turn to face him, the blanket twisted around me. “I need to use the bathroom.”
He rises from the bed and the sight of his naked back shocks me all over again. He’s so massive. It never fails to make me stare. I drop my gaze to the black boxers and to his tree trunk thighs emerging from below them.
“You’re so huge.”
He looks over his shoulder before bending over his jeans. He returns with a small key chain full of keys. Using one of them, he unlocks the metal leash from the collar.
I immediately try to work the collar’s clasp open, but it doesn’t budge. “Come on.”
He shakes his head.
I scratch my neck above the collar. “It itches.”
He lies back on mattress.
I rise and drag the blanket with me. “Did you bring any of my clothes?”
“No.”
“Then your shirt is mine from now on,” I say, picking up his shirt and pulling it over my head. It hangs down to my upper thighs.
I toss the blanket back on the end of the bed.
“Don’t try to run, Raven.”
Screw you, I think.
“I won’t,” I say.
I go into the bathroom and lock the door. I pee quickly and then leave the water running after I wash my hands. I step into the shower, hoping for a window I can crawl through. Instead, I find glass blocks where the window should be. Damn it.
I exit the bathroom, peeking into the room with the mattress and then into the living room. The main door has a lock that requires a key. I walk over and try to open it, but it doesn’t budge. I quickly check other windows. Everything is blocked or sealed shut. Fuck.
I stride back into the room where Sasha is lying on his back in the center of the mattress. “Why did you chain me to the wall if there’s no way out of here anyway?”
“To show you.”
“To show me what?”
“What it’s like to be owned.”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t own me.”
He puts an arm behind his head, casually watching me.
“You don’t,” I repeat, but my voice is less sure as I look around. “What are you thinking? Some kind of permanent abduction scenario?” The thought should terrify me, but again my mind just doesn’t embrace the right emotion. I’m more intrigued than anything.
“You’re not afraid,” he says.
“Well spotted.”
“Why not?”
“I’m my father’s daughter, I guess.”
“Your father’s not that brave.”
I shrug.
“If you’re not scared, come here.”
“For what purpose?”
“So I can suck on your pink nipples.”
I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head, even though a wave of arousal washes through me. I’m sick. It’s a sickness. “You’ve had your revenge.”
He nods. “That’s done.”
“So it’s my choice now?”
He rolls from the mattress and stands. He walks to me and looks down, towering over me. “Nah. You had your turn. It’s mine.”
“What turn? What are you talking about?”
“Your turn to put your hands on me when I couldn’t stop you.”
“When you were shot? I put cold washcloths on your head and forced you to drink medicine and Gatorade.”
“You whispered things into my sleep. You kissed me.”
“Once! On the forehead. When I was deliriously tired.”
“I was incapacitated.”
I smile. “And that bothers you? Big bad Anvil, did you feel violated?”
“Nah. Worse.”
My smile drops and my brows rise. “Worse?”
His hands catch the bottom of the shirt and raise it to my ribs. I grab the fabric, trying to stop its ascent.
“Hey,” I protest.
He pulls it hard enough to wrench it from my grasp. It’s over my head and on the floor in the span of heartbeats. I cover my breasts, not sure why them rather than lower. I guess because he stated his intent to suck them.
He puts his hands on my waist and lifts me, making my breath hitch. He holds me in the air, bringing his mouth even with my knuckles where I’m holding myself. He sucks on my knuckles, sending shivers of desire through me. “Move your hand, Raven. Feed me your nipple.”
I exhale in a rush, my pussy clenching. “Sasha.”
“What?” he asks, blowing on the back of my hand, which is wet from his mouth.
Gooseflesh rises on my arms. “What are you doing?” I whisper, transfixed.
“Getting what I want.” He opens his mouth, waiting.
I shake my head, but then I move my hand to cup my breast. I stare into his eyes and then at his mouth. Inexplicably I arch and bring my nipple forward. His mouth latches onto it, and I close my eyes as he sucks on me. It feels amazing and stirs something deep in my core.
My other hand slides to the back of his neck.
He takes more of my breast in, the suction rough. I press my thighs together against a growing need.
He releases me, exhaling and blowing on my wet flesh. “Fits perfectly in my mouth.” He turns his head and takes the other breast, making a pleased sound.
“Oh,” I groan, tugging on the back of his neck.
He doesn’t hurry, and it feels so good. I don’t want to enjoy it, but I do. My legs try to wrap around him. He lets go of my breast and walks into the living room, still carrying me. “I’m going to do that to all of you. Later.”
ANVIL
I set her down long enough to shove my boxers off. There’s a difference in our nakedness, and I know she feels it. Without clothes, my every bulging muscle is on show. I’m powerful.
To me, she’s fragile. Small breasts topped with pink nipples. Slim curves. Smooth pale skin. Bones as delicate as a bird’s, as a raven’s. That nickname suits her in a lot of ways.
She shifts nervously.
Lust pounds through me.
I sit on the couch and beckon her to me. I fist my cock. “Climb on. You’re going to ride me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She mounts the couch and straddles my hips.
As soon as she lowers herself, she sucks in a breath, her eyes widening. She bites her lip as she impales herself on my cock. I stretch her and push against her womb. She’s soft and wet, squeezing me tight.
“Oh, God,” she whispers and then groans. “That hurts and feels good. No, too much,” she says, pushing herself up, so only the head’s inside.
I fist my hands, working to control myself.
She tightens her hands, scraping my chest with her nails. I pull her forward and kiss her long and deep, savoring this.
Then I lean back, my hands under her ass, guiding her back down. She’s slippery, but tight. The snug grip is perfect, and so is the view.
“Sasha,” she gasps.
“What?”
She’s on top, but I have all the control.
She grinds against me, and her body’s reaction drives me wild. Her chest is flushed, her lips parted and wet, and inside, she’s tight and warm.
My finger traces the shallow curve of her spine, loving the silkiness of her skin. It’s nothing like my own, which is weathered and callused.
I lift her up so I can suck her breast back into my mouth. I swallow like I’ll drink her up. My heart pounds, my cock straining. I can’t think about anything except the primal hunger that grips me.
“Careful,” she husks when I bite her nipple.
I don’t listen. I’m even rougher with the other strawberry bud.
She cries out, arching and struggling. I don’t let her escape. She’ll have to use words if she wants it to stop. As long as she acts like prey, my beast is free to take what it wants.
I put my cock back inside her waiting sheath. Juice drips down to coat the base. We both need this.
She drags her fingernails over my shoulders. I grab her arms and pin them behind her back, pumping upward with my hips.
Her head shakes in anguish, sending her shoulder-length hair flying. Her teeth sink into her lip. She jerks forward and bites my chest.
I growl, tightening my grip on her wrists. I don’t slow down. I can’t.
When she comes, wailing, it tips me over. I jerk many times, spilling my seed in a thundering rush.
She collapses against my sweltering body. Hers is cool and damp and feels like heaven.
She kisses the tender spot where her small teeth bit and marked me.
“Bad little bird,” I murmur. “Your beak’s sharp.”
“Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t sound it. And in truth, I don’t want her to be. I’ll take this little raven’s teeth marks for days.
She rises up, freeing my cock, and then collapses against me again.
“You’re huge, but we… we fit,” she says, sounding surprised.
I rest a hand on her back, holding her against my chest. It feels right.
RACHEL
I take a shower, and Sasha gives me one of his clean T shirts to put on. When I find Lady Indigo’s case on top of the fridge, I excitedly stand on tiptoes to retrieve it. I open the case and find my precious violin undamaged.
“Thank God!”
“The bag’s yours too,” he says, taking a small brown handle bag from the fridge and handing it to me.
I open it and find several books. I take them out. Two young adult novels, one moody with a message, the other a sarcastic paranormal. There’s also a psychological thriller that I’ve been meaning to read, and a nonfiction book on the history of music. They’re all award winners or bestsellers.
“Why?” I ask, looking up.
“You read a lot. I thought you’d want books.”