Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
O liver
Oliver tugged her to her feet, his large hand cupping her elbow. She was shaking, her cheeks wet with tears. She wiped her mouth with a trembling hand and swiped the moisture from her face. A deep, shuddering breath escaped her lungs when Oliver reached out, pushing her hair back until it flowed over her shoulders.
A twinge of shame threatened the glow of satisfaction that suffused his body. He had used her without mercy, holding her hair in an iron grip as he thrust over and over into the warm softness of her mouth. But she had not fought him, not even when he plunged so deep that she gagged on his thick length, and those pretty tears streamed down her flushed cheeks in tiny, salty rivulets as she swallowed him as deep as she could.
She did not fight him because she got off on it, too.
Oliver’s hand encircled her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but Londyn grabbed his wrist to keep him from holding her tighter, her breath coming in soft gasps. With his free hand, he flicked away the lingering tears while she stared wordlessly at him, her legs shifting.
“You want to come, don’t you? Sucking my cock made you wet,” Oliver murmured. “Answer me, Londyn.”
Her lips tightened, but she nodded, eyes squeezing tightly in defeat.
“I won’t allow it, dove. That’s part of the punishment.” Releasing her until she sagged against the wall for support, Oliver yanked his trousers and boxers back up and retreated a few steps. He raked a hand through his hair, watching as she kept her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Londyn replied softly, but there was a thread of rebellion in her tone that she could not conceal.
“Be a good girl today, and maybe you’ll be rewarded.”
Her eyes flew open at his taunt.
“You realize that I can make myself come, Oliver.” She glared at him, eyes narrowed and flashing sparks. “I don’t need you to accomplish that.”
Oliver laughed. “You’ll need me for the most basic functions if I tie your hands behind your back like I want to. Let this be a warning. Do anything on your own that results in an orgasm, and I’ll spank that little ass of yours until it’s ten shades of red.”
Londyn clamped her mouth tightly, fists clenching until Oliver decided this approach was getting him nowhere. Changing his methods, he moved until she was flattened against the wall. Her breathing spiked, her pulse hammering in the hollow of her throat so hard he could see every erratic beat. It was difficult, but he restrained himself from exploring the shallow space with the point of his tongue. But fuck, how he wanted to taste her. To lick and savor every inch of her skin until she was crying his name and pulling him closer.
“Let’s call a truce, dove.” Sliding his hand along her jaw, he cupped her face. Tilting it back, he stared into her eyes. He didn’t like the tears he saw in the silvery depths, which was entirely out of character. He usually loved watching a woman cry, and in particular, he loved Londyn’s tears. “Even if it’s only for a single afternoon. Agreed?”
“Do I have any other choice?” she asked bitterly.
“You do.” His tone was husky with desire. Fuck. He was ready to go again. Something about Londyn Juliette Skye made him absolutely feral. “You could spend the day down in my basement. Tied up. Gagged. Completely at my mercy. Is that what you want, Londyn?”
She slowly shook her head as Oliver leaned in, brushing his mouth over hers. She accepted it with a sigh, frowning when he did not deepen the kiss. Her body was trembling with need. He could do whatever he wanted, and she would love it. However, with a self-deprecating nod to his fragile self-control, he let her go.
Striding over to a tall cabinet on the opposite side of his office, Oliver pressed his thumb to the biometric reader and punched the corresponding code. The door popped open, revealing an array of weapons and ammunition illuminated by interior lights. He quickly selected a semiautomatic, the bullets to go with it, and a shoulder holster. Once the weapon was loaded and secured, he glanced at Londyn.
Her anger had dissipated, leaving behind a frightened girl with pale skin and wide eyes. She stared at the gun as though she believed he would shoot her between the eyes on the spot.
Oliver shook his head, giving her an amused smirk. “This is not for you, dove.”
“Why should I believe that?” she replied, her voice as shaky as her hands as she tugged at the neck of her sweatshirt. “Why should I believe anything you say after what you’ve done?”
Oliver shrugged. “You’ve enjoyed most of what I’ve done to that tight little body of yours, so maybe you should trust me?”
A shadow of uncertainty crossed her features before her chin tilted upward in that adorable gesture of defiance. “I can’t afford to trust you, Oliver. That would be suicidal.”
A pang of something, foreign and sharp, pierced Oliver in the vicinity of where his heart once was. It was infuriating that he suddenly wanted what she would not give him. Disappointment and regret made his voice rougher than it should have been.
“You can’t afford not to trust me, little dove.”
Later that afternoon, Oliver collected Londyn from the library and picked up the basket Miss Miller hadprepared for them. Leading her onto the stone deck stretching across the back of the house, he tugged her toward the series of wide stairs and landings that descended to ground level. She dug in her heels, refusing to move forward.
“Wait,” she asked softly, eyes pleading as she resisted this pull on her hand. “Can I— Is it okay if I stand here for a minute? The sun feels so good. And the air is so fresh. Clean.” She let out a pained smile. “I’d almost forgotten how it feels to have the breeze on my face.”
Oliver cocked his head. Fuck. Her simple request twisted his guilt-filled insides. He had locked her inside his prison of a house, never considering how cruel it might be to deny her something so simple as fresh air and sunshine.
Letting go of her hand, he retreated until his backside was against the railing. He set the basket down, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched as she closed her eyes and tilted her face back to feel thesun’s warmth. Her smile did not fade as she stood in the middle of the expansive deck, dust motes floating around her, caught in the sunbeams and illuminating her. She looked like a bright woodland fairy who had landed in the middle of his dark, ugly world accidentally.
And Oliver watched, entranced by the sight of her.
Finally, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. There was such a sadness about her as she stared at him that Oliver’s breath caught in his throat.
“Okay. I’m ready now,” she said, her tone more resolute than he’d ever heard it.
Reaching out, Oliver took her hand again before retrieving the basket. He took the stairs to the forest floor, giving Londyn no choice but to follow. Blue jays and sparrows trilled and cried from the trees as the wind shifted the leaves. The sun’s rays were warm, but in the shadow of the trees, the air was cool and crisp. Once they were on the lower level of terrace steps, he released his grip, trusting she would follow him.
Londyn was silent as they moved further from the house. The trail leading to the lake was well-marked and broad enough that they could walk side by side, but she hung back, her footsteps soft on the fallen leaves that blanketed the dirt trail. He deliberately kept his pace easy and slow, knowing that she was likely still sore from being fucked two days ago. He’d left bruises from gripping her hips so hard. Bite marks along the inside of her thighs. And he’d battered his way inside her tight virginal cunt. Yeah, she was sore, but Oliver could not find it in him to feel sorry for what he’d done, just regret for the way he’d gone about it. He should have exercised some restraint. Some gentleness.
Those thoughts irritated him as he stomped along the trail leading to the lake. Along the way were several spots where large rock slabs served as terraced stepping-stones. They made the steeper areas of the terrain easier to navigate. And for miles all around them, nothing existed but woods and mountains. It was as though the house and lake had been plopped in the middle of a wilderness.
When the trees finally thinned out, the path ended and revealed a small, pristine lake surrounded by foliage and a small range of mountains in the distance. The water was clear, so clear that it reflected the sky above. It shimmered in the sunlight, bright blue in the deeper parts and a dark turquoise nearer the rocky shoreline.
Londyn let out a soft gasp when she saw the beauty before her.
“How lovely it is,” she breathed, walking past Oliver until she stood at the water’s edge. “So beautiful and perfect. It doesn’t look real.”
“You can see this lake from the living room and my bedroom suite, especially during the winter when the trees have lost their leaves. It’s one of the reasons I purchased the house.” Oliver watched as she shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand and took in the scenery. He barely noticed the beauty of the landscape. All he could see was her . And fuck, she was gorgeous like this—the breeze ruffling her hair, the sun warming her cheeks until they were a pinkish glow. She looked like the college student she was before becoming a victim of Diamond Lake Ranch and his own selfishness.
Fresh-faced. Innocent. Sweet.
“Only one of the reasons?” Londyn murmured under her breath, turning to kick one of the several pebbles and rocks littering the shore. Bending, she picked up a few of the smaller stones and threw one into the lake. The ripples from the pebble’s impact spread quickly through the still water. “I thought it might be the torture chamber that swayed your purchase decision.”
Oliver laughed, setting the basket on a patch of grass. “I won’t lie and say the basement wasn’t the driving factor for my initial interest. I’ve not had any use for it, though, until recently.”
Londyn swung around to face him, her shoulders squared and hands pressed tightly at her sides. “It’s strange to be grateful in a moment like this, but thank you for bringing me here. At least when I take my last breath, I will be surrounded by beauty. Not chained up in that basement, begging for mercy.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Oliver scowled, perplexed by her statement.
The light in her gray eyes hardened to flinty steel. “Please stop with this farce now. It’s pointless. If this is where my life ends, you can, at the very least, give me whatever honesty that cold heart of yours can muster.” Her gaze dropped to the gun holstered across his chest, one eyebrow lifting to accentuate the path of her thoughts.
Oliver sighed, raking a hand through his thick hair. “Londyn, I told you. This is not for you.”
Londyn waved an arm, her words sarcastic and cutting. “Oh? Who else would it be for? Are you expecting assassins by your perfect, beautiful lake?”
Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, pinning her with a dark glare. “No, although I never rule any possibility out. The truth is it will soon be fall. And winter is right behind that. Bears in this area will be more active. Snakes—rattlers, to be precise—are still out. And let’s not even mention the mountain lions. I’m not carrying this gun to use on you. It’s for protection from the wildlife around here. Your protection, for fucks sake.”
Her features were stone-like, the twist of her lips accusatory. “The only animal I need protection from is the one standing before me.”
Tilting his head, Oliver regarded her for a long moment. “You are racking up yet another punishment, dove. Are you sure you want to continue down this road? Are you that hungry for my hands to be on you? My dick inside your mouth again? Or even better, buried deep inside your tight cunt?”
Londyn stomped her foot. “Stop this! Stop equating everything with sex!”
“Why should I?’ Oliver stepped closer while she took an unsteady step back, tripping over the stones beneath her feet. “You love the things I do to you, Londyn. You just don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to admit that you’ve been dripping wet for me since you sucked me off this morning. You don’t want to admit that when I made you bleed, you came all over my dick like a bitch in heat. And you don’t want to admit, especially to yourself, that you want me to fuck you again and make you cry at the same time.”
“You’re sick,” Londyn whispered in anguish. Her features paled with the truth of his words, and she looked as though she might throw up. “Sick. Twisted in the head…”
“So are you, dove. But don’t you think we make a pretty pair?”
Before he could grab her by the arms and shake some sense into her, Londyn reared back and threw a handful of rocks at him. She’d cleverly concealed them in her hand, and now they became stinging missiles. Most bounced harmlessly off his chest, but one larger stone, the size of half-dollars, struck his cheek with enough force to make him stumble.
Londyn dashed toward the woods surrounding the lake. She was smart enough to avoid the trail, recognizing that Oliver could easily overtake her there. She was extraordinarily quick, disappearing into the thick foliage before he could stop her. Maybe she thought she could elude him; her smaller size letting her squeeze through the dense trees and narrow spaces hewn into the rocks by the force of nature. But Oliver was fast on her tail, just heartbeats behind her as she nimbly ducked and scrambled over the obstacles.
But her feet quickly tangled in the thick vines snaking across the forest floor. Like leafy, green chains, they wrapped around her ankles as she cursed and tried kicking free. Within minutes, Oliver had her within his grasp, her flowing hair captured tightly in his grip as he yanked her to a halt. She fought like a wildcat, biting, scratching, kicking until he sank onto the trunk of a fallen tree and hauled her over his lap. Before she could wiggle free, one of his legs had both of hers anchored in place. Her wrists were captured and pinned to the small of her back as he shrugged out of the gun holster and placed it behind him.
“I’m shocked you have it in you to run from me, Londyn. I was thinking to myself that I should have been gentler with you these last few weeks. More patient and careful because I know I hurt you. Now, I can see that I was wrong. I’m beginning to think you only respond to punishments. Punishments are the only way you will ever learn, and any mercy I show you is completely unappreciated. So, I will oblige you on this point. I will punish you until you beg my forgiveness and accept the fact that there is no getting away from me. Until I’m done with you, you will not know a moment of freedom.”
“Go to Hell, you fucking monster,” Londyn cried, wrenching her body back and forth, trying to free herself of his grasp. “What do you expect me to do? Calmly let you kill me? Sit still while you slice my throat? You are a psychopath, and I’m just one of your many victims.”
“Little dove, I have no intention of taking your life today.” He ripped her shorts off her body while also wrangling her legs back under control as she struggled in real panic. Her sweatshirt was jerked toward her shoulders, exposing her back and the tally marks he’d given her. The sight of those thin, scarlet lines made his dick immediately rock hard. The tiny pair of cream-colored panties she wore were ripped away next, the thin fabric shredding in his hands. Londyn shrieked as the cool air touched her bare buttocks, but Oliver was unmoved. “But by the time I’m done with this punishment, you will probably be wishing you were dead.”