Chapter 4
CASSIAN
Twenty minutes later, Allegra is still bound to one of the posts at the foot of my bed as I walk out of the closet, pulling a fresh shirt on over my jeans. The sweats and T-shirt are ruined.
Her eyes follow me, jaw jutted out stubbornly as I make my way to where my phone still lies on the dresser. I pick it up, glancing at her hands, seeing where the missing finger should be. I text Angelo:
Me: I want to know everything about Allegra Moretti.
Angelo sends me a thumbs up emoji, and I set my phone aside before moving to stand before her, just close enough to make it uncomfortable.
Enzo comes back in after washing his hands. He glances at us.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Want me to take her to the crypt?” he asks.
Her face betrays her panic. She shifts wide eyes to Enzo momentarily before returning them to me.
I grin, turn to my cousin. He knows I don’t, but he’s fucking with her too. “Not yet. But maybe later.” That last part I say to her.
“You want something for the pain?” Enzo asks.
“No. I told you, it’s good for me to remember.” I brush a lock of hair behind her ear, and she jerks her face away. I wonder if she’s aware she’s biting her lower lip, a giveaway of her anxiety. She’s not as tough as she wants to appear. Understandable, considering.
“What about this?” he asks, tossing the letter opener up and catching it. He’s cleaned it at least.
“Leave it. I may need it,” I say with a pointed look to Allegra. “Lock that door though,” I tell him, gesturing to the door that adjoins mine. I won’t be putting her back there tonight.
He does. “All right. I’m going home. Call if you need me. I’ll check in on you in the morning,” Enzo says, setting the letter opener on the table across the room before he leaves.
“Cute little stunt,” I tell her once he’s gone.
She faces me. She’s tiny barefoot like this. “I’d say effective is the word you want to use.”
I grin. She’s tough. Good. This is going to be fun. “Effective if earning a punishment was your goal, sure.”
She tries to look defiant, but I hear her swallow.
I brush my hand over her hair. It’s a wild mass of dark waves and I can imagine what she’d look like on her hands and knees before me, all that wild hair in my fist tugging back her head as I take her from behind.
I’d let her come even after this transgression. Not for her pleasure, but for mine. For me to see her face when her body betrays her.
I wonder how she’d look at me then. After coming on my dick.
Careful. Not yet. Don’t lose control.
“Moth,” I say.
“Reaper,” she responds.
I raise my eyebrows.
She gestures toward my chest. “It’s what they call you. The Grim Reaper. Bringer of death.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know what you are. What your family is.”
“Same as yours.”
“Not the same.”
“Yet you’re not afraid to attack me.”
“I already told you that I’m not going to play good little victim. I will never be that.”
“Been that before?” I ask, gesturing with a glance to her hand.
She narrows her eyes. “No,” she denies. “Now take me down from here.”
I snort, walk to the table against the wall where I keep a bottle of whiskey.
It’s where Enzo left the letter opener. I pick it up, study it.
It was stupid not to check the desk before putting her in there, but no one uses that room, so I guess the soldier didn’t think to.
I’m lucky the thing was small, but fuck it was sharp.
I tuck it into my back pocket and pour myself a glass of whiskey.
Capping the bottle, I take the glass back over to her and offer her a sip.
She turns her head away, but licks her lips.
She’s thirsty, but she’s also stubborn. I sip my drink and look her over.
Her blouse is torn, hanging open, beneath I can see a black lace bra.
Pants are intact. She’s up on tip toe and her toes peeking out from beneath the wide pant legs are painted a deep purple.
“My arms hurt. Take me down.”
“What happened to your finger?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m curious all the same.”
“Well, too bad for you. Take me down.”
I snort, meet her eyes. Amber. A shade of fire. I knew she’d be like this, didn’t I? From the moment I laid eyes on her in her father’s study. “How should I punish you, Moth?”
Her expression changes then. She’s trying to hide her fear.
“Tell me. Should I beat you?”
“You would, wouldn’t you? Was that all talk when you broke my brother’s wrist for hurting me? Hypocritical, don’t you think?”
I swallow my drink, study her. “Maybe I should take another finger?”
She freezes, no comeback. I set the glass aside and move close enough to reach behind her. I cup her skull before gripping a handful of that thick hair and tugging.
She grunts, but doesn’t ask me to release her. She won’t give me the satisfaction.
“How old are you now? Nineteen, twenty?”
“Twenty.”
“Well, you’re young and I’m sure daddy kept you shielded, living in a bubble.”
“You don’t get to talk about my father.”
“I get to talk about whoever I want. I’m going to give you some advice—”
“Save it.”
“Be careful. My patience only goes so far, Allegra.”
“Allegra? Not Moth?”
“I’m getting bored of this game. You’re owed a punishment.
And I always pay what I owe. So, take care with that smart mouth of yours,” I look down at that pretty, albeit big, mouth.
I drag my gaze back to hers. “There are many wonderful ways to use it, and it would be a shame to have to cut out your tongue.”
Her breath trembles, her eyes betraying her yet again. I release my hold on her hair.
“What? No comeback? No smartass comment?” I ask, stepping backward.
“Go to hell.”
“I’m already there, sweetheart.” I look her over. “Let’s get these off. See what I’m dealing with here.”
I reach into my back pocket to take out the letter opener.
Her eyes grow wide, and she presses her back to the post, tensing her entire body as if readying herself for an attack.
She’s not new to violence. Maybe her father didn’t keep her as sheltered and protected as I thought.
I slide the flat of the blade carefully over her chest, down her belly.
I don’t want to hurt her. The two remaining buttons pop.
She sucks in a sharp breath as if having expected pain. I’m curious about her reaction.
Next, I slip the sharp edge beneath one shirt sleeve, the expensive material easily coming apart, so I barely have to tug.
I’m careful not to break skin as I do the same with the second sleeve and soon, the blouse is in tatters at her feet.
Next come the pants. It’ll be a shame to ruin them.
They’re nice. But I do all the same and moments later, she’s standing before me naked, but for a strapless bra and panties. Matching set. Pretty.
“Better,” I say, making a point of looking her over. She’s petite, her breasts small, but her hips are nicely rounded. They’ll give me something to hold on to. Her arms and legs are lean with muscle. Not a runner, no gym for her, but yoga maybe.
“Get enough of an eyeful?” she asks, a tremor in her voice I don’t miss even for her bluster.
“Not yet,” I say with a grin before slipping the blade between her breasts and tugging, the lace of her bra snapping and dropping to the floor along with the rest of her things leaving her small, pert little breasts exposed.
Her nipples tighten beneath my gaze, and she tugs her restraints, curling in on herself in an effort to shield herself from me.
“Get away from me!”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I start, laughing, which infuriates her. Good. “We’re just getting started.” I close my hands over her shoulders and force her to stand upright. “Now show me those lovely little tits of yours. Show me what’s all mine for the taking.”
She twists this way and that and if her arms weren’t fully numb, I have a feeling she’d try for some acrobatic move and swing her legs at my face, but after the night she’s had, I’m sure she’s exhausted.
“Stay still. I wouldn’t want to stab this into your side by accident,” I say, holding the letter opener up for her to see.
She looks at it, then up at me, fear clear in her eyes. Her father did her a disservice shielding her from life. If I had a daughter, I’d teach her how to fight. I wouldn’t allow her to become a victim. But no need to ponder that. I’ll never have a child.
“Last little bit,” I say and slide the blade into the side of her panties and snip the tiny bit of lace to strip her fully.
I give a cursory glance, appreciating the patch of dark hair. Nothing to tug on when a woman is shaved bare. I pick up my glass and cross the room to refill it, setting the letter opener down and turning to study my lovely little captive.
She keeps her gaze averted, clenching and unclenching her hands. I lean back and cross my ankle over the opposite knee and watch her for long minutes until she finally turns to me.
“What the hell do you want with me?”
“For starters, an apology for stabbing me.”
“You kidnapped me!”
“Now, that’s an exaggeration. Your family knows exactly where you are and how they can get you back. Although, honestly, I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.” I finish my drink and set the glass down to walk back toward her.
“What does that mean?”
I brush her hair over her narrow shoulders, take in the deep pink points of her hard nipples. When I brush a knuckle over one, she catches her breath. I look at her, watch her lick her lips, and I grin.
“Allegra,” I start, bringing my nose to her cheek, her throat, crouching as I go lower, letting the scruff of my jaw scrape along all that soft, smooth skin until I’m at eye level with her hairy pussy. I draw in a deep, audible breath and she whimpers.
I grin, straighten to my full height and search her face.
“If I’m not mistaken, I’m picking up a scent alongside that fear now,” I say, looking into those fire eyes which have gone a dark, rich amber. “You curious what that is?”
“No. Fuck you.”