20. Bellamy
Chapter 20
Bellamy
E verything hurt and I wanted to die.
I’d torn fingernails fighting Fletcher off of me, screamed until my throat ached, until he’d sealed his massive hand across my mouth and warned me in the most dangerous and low voice to shut the fuck up.
I’d listened.
With every thrust of his hips, Fletcher Sinclair is the only ally you need rang through my head like a bell, and I didn’t know in what world this was what my father had intended. But he had to have known, right? This society was part of his legacy, and now it was mine. He must have understood what fate he’d signed me up for with the scholarship and the invitation to the Thorns.
Nothing my father had told me, nothing I’d done earlier in the week with Daren—or any man before him—had prepared me for the brutal onslaught of the way Fletcher Sinclair fucked. He’d chased, he’d caught, and then he’d claimed. That was the expectation and those were the rules, but I didn’t understand the why of it. Why had my father signed me up for this? What would I get from this?
What would he get from this?
I knew it was meant to be scary, meant to be rough, but this was beyond terrifying. Sobbing, I screwed my eyes closed while Fletcher finished, finally rocking back onto his heels with a frown. He tucked himself back into his pants before I opened my eyes.
“You really didn’t want this,” he said quietly, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his brow.
“Who would want this?” I scrambled away from him, tucking my knees against my chest. My shirt was torn, my ankle throbbed from when he’d taken me down to the ground and climbed on top of me.
“It’s…” He frowned, scratching the bridge of his nose. “You really didn’t…”
“I’m not from here,” I said. “I…my father.”
Recognition flashed across his face, and then regret, and then it was gone and he was Fletcher Sinclair again, the man I’d seen at the pub earlier in the week who’d warned me away from him and instead sent me home with Daren instead. I’d known then; I’d understood that I would have to give myself to him, but I hadn’t been prepared. Not physically and not mentally.
“You knew I was meant to fuck you tonight, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…” I trailed off, and Fletcher had helped me to my feet, dusting me off as best he could.
“You knew it was a chase, a game for us to play.”
I nodded, because I had known. But I hadn’t known .
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, reaching toward me and picking a stick out of my hair. “I…it’s…”
He gave me a wary look, turning away from me and tugging his hair at the roots hard enough to make him grunt.
“You’re bleeding,” I said, reaching out and pressing my fingertips against the small of his back. Thick rivulets of blood ran down his shoulder and spine, some blood fresh and some already dried. At my touch, he startled and pulled away, spinning back to face me head on.
“I deserve it for…”
“For what?” I asked, taking another step toward him.
There was no doubt in my mind Fletcher Sinclair was one of the most dangerous men I’d ever meet, but he was also one of the most magnetic. Undeniably handsome, even as he came apart in front of me. With blood and dirt and sweat streaked across his skin, his hands trembling and unsure, I wanted to throw myself back onto the forest floor so he could finish what he started.
The fear was an aphrodisiac, and I was drunk on it. Scared and horny, all at the same time.
“You didn’t want that,” he said.
I gestured at the erection between my legs. “I didn’t mind it.”
“You fought me.”
“I was scared.”
“Because you didn’t want it,” he said again.
I palmed my cock, hips gently thrusting toward him this time, “I didn’t mind it.”
“But you didn’t want it.”
“I didn’t expect it, but I want it very much, I think,” I admitted, voice barely louder than a whisper. He shifted his weight, a twig snapping under the sole of his boot.
“You liked being chased,” he said. “You liked being forced.”
“I didn’t.” I gave him a crooked shrug. “Not when it was happening, but now…I’m sad it’s over.”
Fletcher exhaled and shook his head, blinking quickly at the ground before looking up at me. He caught my stare and it was like a tractor beam. Magnetic had been an understatement. Fletcher Sinclair was unavoidable.
“After this, I have to take you deeper into the woods,” he said slowly. “I have to gift you to Gideon North.”
“The Beast,” I murmured.
Fletcher grimaced. “He’s just a man.”
“He has a reputation,” I said.
“And don’t I?” He held his hands out at his sides, mouth still twisted into an angry half-scowl.
“You do,” I agreed.
“And what is it then?” Fletcher took a step toward me, bringing into focus how much taller and broader than me he truly was.
“Fletcher Sinclair, heir to the Thorns legacy, the Sinclair dynasty.”
“What else?”
“You’re ruthless.” The twist in my back when I tried to straighten my spine was reminder enough of that. “You’re a cruel villain.”
Fletcher snorted, rolling his eyes. For the briefest moment, even in the dark of the woods, I saw the pain in his face, the lie of the whole thing, but the wind blew, the trees rustled… and it was gone.
Fletcher Sinclair is the only ally you need.
“I don’t think you’re so bad,” I told him, taking a breath and reaching for him once more. He didn’t shy away from my touch, but he went rigid and still beneath my fingers. His pants were still undone, and I slowly moved my fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear. His cock hadn’t softened yet, throbbing against my palm when I wrapped my fingers around him.
“You don’t know a thing about me…” He trailed off on a gasp as I stroked him from root to tip.
“I know you stopped when you thought I didn’t really want it,” I said.
Fletcher moved quickly, collaring his hand around my throat and slamming my back into a tree. He lifted me onto my toes, and I kept my hand around his cock, kept stroking as he tightened his fingers around my neck. His hand was so large I imagined his fingers almost touched in the back.
“You’re right,” I rasped. “You’re right.”
He came across my fingers with a look of agony on his face and he dropped me back onto my feet without so much as a warning. My next breath hurt my lungs, and my dick pulsed in response, leaking hot precum against my leg.
“I’m taking you to Gideon North,” he said, shoving his flagging erection back into his pants.
“I understand.”
“He has the same…” Fletcher trailed off again.
So much power and so often at a loss for words. He was no better than me, just a lost little boy playing dress up and I didn’t think anyone knew it besides me and him.
“I understand now,” I said again. “I know what you both expect.”
“That’s what the society expects,” he corrected, brushing his hair away from his face, and then doing the same to mine with far more tenderness than he’d given himself. “What I expect is for you to find out all you can about him before he sends you back. I want to know everything you can learn about Gideon North.”