12. Cara
12
CARA
I lay on the bed, trapped and cornered as I stared up at Declan sulking over me. His hands no longer gripped me with that familiar, brutal strength he exuded. But I was just as much pinned under the intense anger of his glare.
He didn’t move, standing and glowering at me until I felt like a trapped animal. A small, hopeless prey. He was the ultimate predator, staring at me with that intention to do me wicked harm. This would be no sweet lovemaking or gentle intimacy. He planned to rape me. And he would probably take me just as hard, if not harder, than he did against the door of his other home.
What is wrong with me? The question blared inside my mind.
Too many things had to be severely broken with me. Perhaps all those days of being isolated and alone here had snapped me, coaxing my brain to misfire.
As I breathed hard and waited in suspense for him to touch me, I felt a sickening sense of awareness. Tension built deep in my stomach. My muscles braced for him to lean into me. And something dark and twisted in my heart relished it all. The danger. The thrill.
I wanted him to fuck me.
After all that time of seeing and speaking to no one, forcing me to be so alone and listless and idle that I fell back to reminiscing on my fondest and sadder memories, I yearned for his commanding touch.
Somehow, I’d come to need him to ground me.
The last time he unleashed his wrath on me, it felt so damn good. It made no sense, but I knew what was coming. Any time he touched me, I came alive. He didn’t let me wallow in thoughts and worries. He forced me to just feel.
He didn’t move. He stared at me so heavily, like he was trying to see into my miserable soul. And that would mean something else, something worse, was wrong with me.
Because I’d slipped up. I’d mentioned that deal, and I did not need him to know that my father was paying me to be Declan’s wife. My husband did not need the ammunition of knowing about my mother’s condition. I wouldn’t put it past him to use it against me somehow, and there was no way in hell that I would further risk her happiness and health in some twisted game this man wanted to play.
I was already nervous from dinner, when Ian asked me about my family. I tried my best to mask my panic at the mention of my mother, guarded about why they wanted to know anything at all. They were curious about my past, but I didn’t know enough to gauge the threat of their interest. Safeguarding my mother was my priority. Keeping Declan ignorant about her mattered a hell of a lot more than having any orgasm he could force out of me.
“What deal?” he demanded.
I almost shivered at his growl. Why did he have to turn me on to the point of dripping cream with that husky rasp of his bossy tone?
I shook my head, fighting the urge to thrust my hips up to his hand. Damning still, his fingers remained unmoving on my skin. The rough touch of the back of his knuckles so low on my stomach reminded me of what it felt like when he'd stroked his digits over my slit, into me, when he gruffly shoved his cum back up into my pussy that night.
I wanted it.
“Tell me what you were talking about?”
Never. I held my breath, wishing I could beg him to fuck me already. Tension simmered between us, and as he looked me over again, I felt so full of pressure to explode, like my skin was too tight and my lungs couldn’t hold air fast enough.
“Make up your mind,” I retorted. “First, you instruct me to shut up. Now, you want me to talk.”
He grinned, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe I’d fight him. “Tell me.”
His fingers moved, undoing the button and zipper with agonizing slowness.
More. More. Please. I fidgeted. My body took over, and I felt my back arch in preparation to get my jeans off my ass.
“Tell me.”
I growled, glaring at him.
“Do you think this silence is going to earn you any favors?” He wrenched my jeans down, yanking my panties with them. The hit of cool air on my pussy stunned me, and I gasped out loudly.
“Do you really think you have any power here?” He pulled the garments all the way off.
I know I have none.
“Do you plan on holding out on me and winning?” He kneeled onto the bed, his huge body blocking out my view of the room as he crawled up over me, between my legs.
“Do you?” He gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles sliding as he reached up to force my shirt and bra off in one rough shove. The fabric didn’t cooperate. The stretchy top and sporty lingerie clung to me, trapping me over my head. He didn’t bother to remove it, instead leaving it as it was. Bound in my shirt and the even tighter elastic grip of my bra, I lay flat and helpless. My arms shot up, and my face was covered. Turning my head to the side, I avoided being strangled. I could breathe with my mouth and nose to the side, but I was stuck in my own clothes.
Blindfolded and bound.
“Are you feeling so powerful and confident now, wife ?”
I wasn’t. He had all the control here. While I wanted to fight it, while the stubborn need to claim my independence burned within me, I came to understand how freeing it was.
To let go.
Not to think at all.
No plans or strategy.
Just to give in and surrender, knowing that he’d deliver such deep bliss.
He lowered over me, closing his mouth on my breast and sucking my nipple between his lips, hard. At the same time, he thrust his hand down my body and slid his fingers into my wet cunt.
I cried out, wincing at the dual hit of pain. Once I breathed through it, the sweeping wave of pleasure warmed me from the inside out.
“Who’s in control now?” he demanded, pumping his callused fingers into my tight entrance. Each push in had me crying for more. Every bite and forceful suck of my beaded nipple forced another gasp.
Writhing and shaking, forced to the buildup of an intense climax, he played me. Bruised me. Violated me. And forced me all the way to the brink of coming.
He stopped, leaning up from my chest with his breath whipping down on my wet flesh. His fingers remained splayed on me, holding my folds open but not driving his thick digits inside.
I cried out, panting and bucking to make him finish me off. I knew he was cruel, but this was agony.
“You still think you have power, Cara?” he taunted as he moved again.
Not seeing him aggravated me, but when I heard the rustle of clothing, my heart raced faster. I swore that I leaked more juices, imagining him staring at my pussy, soaking wet and wide open for his taking.
“You wanna stay quiet and not answer me?”
The bed dipped as he crawled back onto it. The friction of his hairy, hard thighs pushed against my legs, urging me to spread open even wider.
He shoved his big cock into me.
I tensed, curling forward and arching up at the brutal thrust. He hadn’t waited. He didn’t bother to notch himself and give me a warning. He slammed in, all the way in, and ground his hips against me to add in an extra rub.
Crying out louder, I struggled to breathe and surrender. My body was one step ahead of me. I was slick, soaked with my arousal. He slid in, stretching me quickly, but I wasn’t unprepared. He worked me open, and I sucked him in deep.
But my mind…
I fought it. I struggled against this power play, knowing I’d never have any where he was concerned. I resisted the urge to let go and just tell him what he wanted to know.
Battered between the unrelenting and hard, hammering pounds of his body against mine, I tried to think and remain coherent. This would not be an ideal time to blurt something out. I could not risk losing control to the point that I shared the details about the deal that saw me married to him.
And in the end, I lost sight of it all. Thinking. Planning. Worrying. None of it was possible.
Forced under the wave of painful thrusts and merciless grinds against my clit, I could only feel. Drowning under the need to splinter and come apart, I lost track of what I had to keep secret.
He gripped my tits, squeezing so hard that I wondered if I’d ever lose the bruises and marks there, and used the hold as leverage to ram into me faster.
I lost it all. My sanity. This need to stay independent and not give in to him.
He freed me from it all.
As I came, milking his cock with tears streaming down my cheeks, he severed the ties that kept me suffering in my mind.
I gave in and rode the tide of pleasure, so hot and hard-earned after the painful and torturous wait.
I wasn’t alone. He followed me, spilling his hot cum into me as his dick twitched and speared up even higher, as if he feared any minuscule gap between our bodies would allow a drop of his semen to escape.
“You’re not,” he growled, breathing hard as he released my breasts. “You will never have power. Not as my wife.”
I sobbed, so overwhelmed with the ecstasy of coming that hard. I didn’t care what he said. I wasn’t able to think yet.
“And you will be wise to forget about keeping a single fucking secret from me.”
He pulled out, and again, he thrust the dribbling cum back into my pussy.
A long, low groan left my lips at his fingers sliding in along my sensitive flesh.
“All you’re here for is to give me what I want,” he reminded me as he stood, his weight off the mattress causing me to shift.
“Nothing more.”