Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
L ondyn
“Londyn, look at me,” Oliver commanded in a smooth, low voice. He waited until her gaze drifted back to him before continuing. It seemed he was choosing his words with care. “If you please me, if you do exactly as I say and give me your complete submission, I’ll do what you asked of me that first morning. I will end your life rather than send you back to Diamond Lake Ranch.”
Londyn’s eyes watered at the finality of his tone. “You could let me go. I-I won’t tell anyone what happened. I’ll go back home. Take care of my sister. Find justice for her and punish the man who hurt her. Let me go, and I won’t say a word about you. About us. This. I swear it.”
Oliver shook his head, eyes darkening. “I can’t let you go, nor can I keep you. Because once I fuck that tight little virgin cunt, I won’t rest until I’m certain no other man ever experiences the pleasure of you squeezing his cock like you will soon squeeze mine. The only way to ensure you aren’t sold to another man is to watch you take your last breath while I’m buried deep inside you.” His blue eyes glittered like diamonds. “Be a good girl, and I will make it quick and painless.”
The unspoken threat of what would happen should she fail to meet the vague qualifications for being a good girl hung in the cool air of the underground playroom. Her chest tightened until she felt faint, but she nodded in agreement.
A smile tugged at his lips, but it was a cold one. It never reached his eyes. Londyn closed hers, swaying with terror while tremors swept her body. She gritted her teeth to control the shaking as her bare toes curled against the stone floor. Her legs were suddenly so weak that she teetered on the verge of collapse.
“How do I know you will keep your promise? How can I be sure you let my sister have the money once I’m dead and gone? How do I know you won’t just take the money back?”
Oliver’s head tilted at her accusation. For a moment, he looked offended. Then he shrugged. “You don’t know, Londyn. I can’t even swear that I’ll keep my promise because there’s not a fucking thing in this world that I hold dear enough to swear against. So, bad luck on that. You’ll just have to hope I keep my word. If it makes you feel better, you can haunt me from the afterlife if I fail to keep my end of our deal.” He smirked at her, his features darkening as he softly commanded, “Down on your knees, Londyn. Hands behind your back. No more speaking unless I permit it.”
The room spun as she quickly obeyed. The black slip was too short to cushion her bare legs, but the discomfort of kneeling on the hard floor was overshadowed by apprehension.
She could not see what he was doing. The clink of something metal ratcheted her breathing to the point of hyperventilation.
“Deep breaths for me, dove. I don’t want you passing out yet. Not when we are only just beginning.” His breath brushed the hair behind her ear as he stood behind her. Taking her wrists, he then clicked a pair of handcuffs around them.
When she gave her hands an experimental twist, Londyn realized the cuffs were constructed of butter-soft leather. The sound she heard was the chain linking them together.
Oliver spoke again in low, soothing tones. “For the last week or so, I’ve gathered items essential for our time together. The furniture in this room, the St. Andrew’s Cross, the bedframe, the couch, and the swing were installed before I purchased the cabin, but they’ve never been used, not even by the prior owner. The restraints and the implements I will use are new.”
Londyn’s fists clenched at the unspoken revelation. “There’s never been another… you mean...”
Oliver’s fingers laced through her hair, tilting her head back until she could see his face from where he still stood behind her. “You are the first, Londyn. I’ve never felt strongly enough about another woman to do half the things I plan on doing with you.” From this awkward position, he kissed the tip of her nose. “And you’ve earned yourself a punishment.”
Keeping one hand entangled in Londyn’s hair, Oliver moved to stand before her. He held the tresses tight for a long moment, then abruptly released her. His mouth curved with the ghost of a smile as he unbuttoned his white shirt, slowly rolling up the cuffs to reveal muscular forearms. When the shirt fluttered around his chiseled body, Londyn could see the white, square bandage from the stab wound. Her pulse accelerated with dread.
“Open your mouth.”
Londyn did not move. Oh, God. What is he going to do?
Oliver’s hand curled around her throat, snapping her back to attention. “Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth.”
She complied, a tear running down her cheek that Oliver immediately scooped on the end of his forefinger. He sucked the teardrop before sliding the digit so deep into her mouth she nearly gagged. His smile grew wider at her involuntary response and the way her legs clenched together.
“Sweet as nectar. Oh, Londyn. Everything about you is so fucking delicious. I’m going to devour every part of you. Worship every part of you. And I will possess every part of you. Starting with this beautiful mouth and throat.”
Withdrawing his finger, Oliver’s large hands went to the black leather belt around his trim waist. Deliberately, he slid it free from his jeans, then passed its end through the buckle so that it fashioned a loop.
Londyn closed her eyes as he gently placed the noose around her neck. It hung loose, but the implication was quite clear. He meant to choke her with it. To extinguish her life at that very moment. A sob escaped before she could swallow it back down.
“Shhhh. I’ve no intention of killing you right now,” he laughed softly, pulling the belt until it tightened around her throat. It did not hurt, but the implication of what was coming next made her quiver. “Remember what I said. Please me and I will do what you want. Now, open your eyes.”
She did, staring up at him from her knees.
“Normally, I would have you pull my cock out, but with your hands bound, I’m afraid that’s not an option. Next time.” Oliver undid his jeans before pushing the material down to ride low on his hips. “You see what it says, don’t you? Good. Now, take your punishment like a good girl.”
Londyn’s eyes watered, a cry bubbling up in her throat.
SWALLOW.
The word was tattooed in an ornate script across the lowest portion of his sculpted abdomen, stretching from one side of the V to the other. His large cock loomed below it, thrusting up from the neatly groomed pubic area studded with things that looked like barbells. She counted six of them; shiny silver bars that captured the light and reflected it. With his free hand, Oliver stroked himself as Londyn watched, his thumb caressing the barbells and the head of his cock until a groan was wrung from his lips. The noose around her neck tightened like a leash used to control a wayward pet.
“Take a deep breath, little dove. You’re about to get all nine fucking inches of me. I’m going to fill that sweet throat with cum, and you will swallow every drop. Now, open for me.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion and a very surreal fashion. Londyn automatically parted her lips, and then he was pushing his way inside, gliding past the barrier of her teeth and hitting the back of her throat until she gagged. Oliver tsked and withdrew a few inches. Reaching down, he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his icy-blue eyes. They had noticeably darkened until the irises were indistinct from the dark-blue ring surrounding them.
“Have you never given head before?”
Londyn shook her head the best she could with the belt holding her head immobile. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Not because Oliver was hurting her but because her own response frightened and confused her. Trembling with emotion, her body was betraying her. Between her legs, moisture gathered, and beneath the silky gown, her nipples were diamond-hard points so sensitive that every brush of the fabric had her swallowing back a moan.
Oliver huffed out a laugh. “I’m going to be all your firsts, Londyn, and all your lasts.” He slid back in and quickly withdrew so she could breathe. “Fuck, your mouth is amazing. Open wider for me and flatten your tongue.” He thrust deeper, the cold barbells on the underside of his shaft clinking against her lower teeth. The mushroom-shaped head of his cock impaled the back of her throat again until she choked. “Breathe through your nose, dove,” he instructed in a rough voice. “Fuck, I’m not going to fucking last long. Not when your mouth is so goddamn hot and tight. Even your fucking teeth feel good.”
Dropping the end of the belt, Oliver’s hands buried themselves in the thick waves of Londyn’s hair. He held her, cradling her head in his palms as he began steadily fucking her mouth. When she tried pulling away, salvia dripping down her chin, he jerked her back into place, his grip tightening as he chased his pleasure. But although it was brutal and degrading and easily the most frighteningly arousing thing she’d ever experienced, Londyn sensed Oliver was restraining himself from losing control. His thrusts were shallow enough that she could breathe but still so deep that he brushed the back of her throat, swelling her cheeks with the thickness of his cock each time his hips flexed.
Was he really trying not to hurt her? The flash of gratitude she felt even as his hands cruelly held her in place was both illuminating and disgusting. How could she be grateful for this spec of kindness after everything she’d suffered at his hands? Why wasn’t she biting his dick off? Or ripping out one of the barbells with a quick snap of her teeth? Why, why was she allowing this? And why did she want his hands to snake between her legs and make her come?
“Goddamn, you’re gonna make me come before I’m ready,” Oliver warned, the words coming out in a strangled curse that invaded her disjointed thoughts. “Swallow me, Londyn. Swallow every inch of my cock and every drop of my cum.”
Hearing his filthy words, Londyn clenched her thighs tightly, rubbing them together to get some relief. From what, she wasn’t sure. Something was wrong with her. Something so terrifying that she couldn’t begin to understand it. It was dark and insidious. Overwhelming. A craving that must be fed. Something must be done to ease the ache deep inside her. She needed something to quiet the roaring in her head. To soothe the blood rushing through her veins.
“Fuck…” Oliver hissed, hands clenching her hair with such force that she would have screamed if her mouth hadn’t been so full. Then he was exploding, warm salty liquid pouring down her throat in what felt like a gushing river. She was drowning. Coughing. Semen and spit mingled together, spilling from the corners of her mouth. Oliver did not stop rocking his hips as his release filled her. A groan of immense satisfaction rumbled through his body, and Londyn was lightheaded as the sound washed over her.
For an eternity, Londyn waited. Accepting. Crying. Swallowing.
Just like the tattoo across his lower stomach predicted she would.