13. Katelyn
I wake with a start, the creak of the mattress pulling me out of a restless sleep. My eyes snap open to find a shadow moving above me, his hand clamping over my mouth to muffle any sound. My pulse spikes, fear surging as I instinctively try to tug my hands free, only to remember the handcuffs binding me to the metal frame.
“Shhh,” Alex whispers. “Don’t make a sound.”
I can smell whiskey on his breath, but he doesn’t appear to be drunk. Not that I can see clearly, anyway. It’s dim, and the oil lamp on the bedside table provides very little light. It flickers in the corner of the room, causing shadows to dance on the walls.
His heavy weight settles on top of me, and he slowly drags his hand off my mouth.
“You came back,” I whisper.
“I never left.”
Part of me is relieved that he didn’t abandon me. But the other part is confused, unsure of exactly why he crept back into my room at this hour. I want to believe that maybe he’s thought of an escape plan, but the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my thigh leads me to another conclusion.
“What do you want?” The rush of adrenaline makes my voice tremble slightly.
“You.”
He says it in the same tone he always uses. He’s not asking. That’s a demand . I see it then, the undeniable lust burning in his eyes. I’ve seen it before. When he flipped me over at the gym. When he unzipped my dress the other night.
He was blowing hot and cold with me, so I convinced myself I was reading too much into it, seeing things that weren’t there. But after the way he kissed me in the bathroom earlier, I know exactly what that look means.
“Remember...” I swallow, trying to gulp down more air. “Remember what your boss said. No one’s allowed to touch me.”
“He’s not my boss,” he spits out with the same hostile tone he used earlier. “I don’t give a fuck about his orders.”
My breath catches, panic causing a hard lump in my throat. “But you...I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
It’s more of a plea to his conscience than a statement of fact because I don’t know him or what to expect. I don’t know what he’s capable of.
He stares at me for a long time, his eyes caressing every inch of my face. “I’m going to caution you not to make assumptions about me. Don’t assign any virtue to me because I’m a man who has none. I have no moral compass to steer me away from you. Your body is virtually unexplored. It doesn’t know its limits, how far it can be pushed, and I don’t have the required restraint to resist that kind of temptation. This mouth...” His hand moves to my mouth, and he traces his thumb over my lower lip. “It’s so plump...so ripe...so capable of fulfilling every fantasy I’ve had about you. It’s enough to make any man lose his self-control. And mine is long gone. By the time I’m done with you, these perfect lips will be bruised and swollen.”
Those husky words fill me with equal parts of fear and...anticipation. What is he going to do to me? Panic grips my throat, trapping a scream. Trepidation claws its way through my insides. But I freeze, becoming completely immobile when his hand moves to the zipper of the black hoodie, and he slowly pulls it down.
“These supple tits are going to be sore and tender.” His fingertips trail down my chest and slip beneath the thin material of my silver dress. He cups my breast, and I don’t mean to, but my back arches up slightly, pressing myself more firmly into his hand. “When I’m done, every inch of you will know only me, will want...Only. Me . Your pussy is going to feel raw and used. Your legs will be stiff. Your muscles will be quivering from overexertion.” He pinches my nipple hard enough to extract a small cry from me. “And when your body is limp and has nothing left to give, I think that’s when you’ll realize...just how much I want to hurt you.”
The heat of his breath tickles the shell of my ear, and the hair at the back of my neck stands on end. Again, my back arches as if I’m seeking more of his touch, more of his attention. This man just explained what he wants to do to me, how he wants to hurt me, and instead of feeling dread and distress, I’m...intrigued, curious to see if my body can handle such an assault.
I shut my eyes, chastising myself for responding that way. What is wrong with me? I’m chained to a bed in some dilapidated abandoned warehouse, and I’m lusting for the man who put me here.
He shifts onto his knees in front of me, gray orbs leisurely perusing my body like a predator scans his prey. His intentions are clear. He’s going to devour me.
I place my bare foot on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance. “Alex...just...just think about this.”
“Katie...” Grasping my ankle, he brings it up to his shoulder and gently nips the skin on the side of my calf. “ This ...is all I can think about.”
It’s not just the words that make me stumble for the hundredth time. It’s not even the tender way he says my nickname. No, it’s the fact that the hand firmly gripping my ankle still has the brown shoelace tied to it. I’m still struggling to get a read on him. Is he soft and sentimental enough to hold on to something as worthless as that? Or is he cold and ruthless enough to hold a gun to my head with no remorse?
I’ve seen both sides, and I don’t know which one he really is. Maybe he’s both. Good and evil. Saint and sinner. At this moment, however, I’m with the sinner.
His hands glide up my thighs and slip under my dress. A second later, he’s dragging my lace underwear down my legs. He wastes no time, grabbing the flimsy material of my dress next. A rough tug, and it rips down the middle.
A sharp gasp bursts out of me, my body stiffening as he slowly spreads the material to reveal my naked body beneath it. I’m completely at his mercy, exposed and powerless. The cool air washes over me, hardening my nipples into tight little buds.
“You’re more beautiful than I imagined,” he says hoarsely.
His eyes rove over me, his gaze so hot I feel it searing my skin. It moves ravenously down my breasts and stops when it reaches the juncture of my thighs. It’s probing, invasive, because he can see the full effect he has on me. He’s acutely aware of how aroused I am. I can see it. I can feel it.
“Fuck, your pussy’s glistening for me.”
The raw desire in his voice makes my thighs clench together. I’m mortified, and I instinctively try to cover myself up, but all I get is the biting sting of the shackles digging deeper into my wrists.
A low groan rumbles in his throat, and then something snaps inside him. His body comes over me so fast, his thigh wedging between mine to force my legs apart again. One hand presses into the pillow beside my head, the other moving down between us. My wide eyes are fixed on him, too surprised to focus on anything else, so I don’t see what he’s doing.
But I hear the hasty clinks as he undoes his belt, the sharp hiss as his zipper drags down, and then he’s shoving his jeans off his hips. His impatience shocks me, scares me... turns me on . Again, I admonish myself for my own thoughts. Yet even as I tell myself that I don’t want him, that I can’t want him, I still feel moisture pooling between my legs.
I feel the blunt head of his cock at my entrance, and my body jerks violently, the chains of my cuffs clattering loudly against the metal bedframe. Somehow, I wasn’t expecting to get to this point so quickly. I thought...
What did I think? That a criminal was going to seduce me first? Kiss me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear? This is not a normal encounter with a normal guy.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers gruffly, rubbing his tip up to my clit and down again. “So fucking wet for me.”
Tears of embarrassment prick the back of my eyes because I don’t want to be this responsive to him. I want to yell at him, tell him to stop. But what if he does? He could pull away the same way he did in the bathroom.
I may not know him well, but the one thing I’ve learned is how he responds to the word no . And it’s there, hanging on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say it, knowing all this could end as abruptly as it started if I even utter that word.
So, I leave it dangling as he continues to rub himself against me like I’m some kind of sex toy he’s using to whet his appetite. I’m caught between a rock and a very hard place right now. On the one hand, I don’t want him to stop. On the other hand, I don’t want to give him a damn thing. After all the mind games he’s played with me, I want him to yearn for me. I want him to suffer because he wants me so badly, but he can’t have me.
However, that option has been taken out of my hands. I have no say, no control, and that’s driving me crazy. I’m completely at the mercy of someone who could very well be a sociopath. He’s cunning and can manipulate me so easily.
He’s manipulating me right now. The way he’s teasing me is infuriating, dipping in an inch only to withdraw before he touches my sweet spot. I fight with everything in me to remain perfectly still. I want to rock my hips, take him in deeper, but I stay stiff as a board because I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“I see what you’re doing,” he says, mischievousness flickering in his eyes. “And we can play this game all night.”
“What game?”
“You’re clinging to any form of control with both hands. It won’t work, not with me.”
My eyes widen slightly. I told him so many details about my ex, how I hate not being in control because it makes me feel vulnerable, and this bastard is using it against me.
“Step out of your comfort zone, Rebel.” He lightly grazes my chin with his teeth. “Just let go...and give yourself to me.”
He shifts his hips, pushing in an inch deeper. I squeeze my eyes tight, closing my throat to stop the moan that’s about to escape. I hate...No, I loathe that he knows all my secrets. He knows my weaknesses and insecurities, yet I know nothing about him. I don’t even know what his real name is. And the fact that he’s still calling me Rebel , like there’s some kind of intimate bond between us, grates me even more.
I turn my head, choosing to focus on a dirty spot on the wall instead of him. He grips my face, moistening my skin with his lower lip as it moves across my cheek to my ear.
“You can fake it all you want, try to pretend like you’re not affected by me. You can shut your eyes and grit your teeth and act as if you don’t want me as bad as I want you.” His tongue lightly traces over my ear lobe before he nips it with his teeth. “But trust me when I say that before this night is over...you’ll be begging for my cock.”
His arrogance only makes me want to dig my heels in deeper. Something about the way he said it angers me to the depths of my soul. He has me chained to this bed, putting me through the worst humiliation I’ve endured in my life. He’s talking to me in a way no man has ever spoken to me before, and he has the audacity to tell me I’ll be begging him later.
When he lifts his head, I meet his eyes with a flare of indifference. “I’ll never give you the satisfaction. I refuse .”
My defiance excites him more. “You refuse?” He smirks, an actual smirk, and it makes me angrier to know that it took this kind of encounter to get anything close to a smile out of him. “Strong will. Let’s see how long it lasts.”
He reaches above my head to the small bedside table. I hear a gentle tinkle of ice tapping against the glass before he rubs a cold cube over my lips. Droplets of whiskey drip into my mouth. It’s not enough to intoxicate me, yet that’s exactly how I feel when he drags the cube over my chin and down to my neck.
He shifts off me and onto his side. Those gray spheres are intense and fixated on every movement of his hand as he slides the ice cube around my locket and down to my chest. Even as goosebumps break out all over my body, I keep still and unmoving. I don’t even allow him to see the change in my breathing. My hands clench into tight fists when he rubs slow circles around my nipples. Water trickles over my breast and down my ribs. It’s so cold, almost painful.
His hand slides across my chest to play the same erotic game with my other nipple. Each movement is slow and deliberate, like he wants me to feel the effect of every second. When my nipple goes numb from the cold and the ice has melted, he grabs another cube and continues his descent.
I wince when the chill reaches my navel. My body seems to be overcompensating because a slow burn ignites beneath my skin, spreading to my fingers and toes. My heart races, and I can feel the rapid beats all the way up to my throat. His hand moves lower, and the shock when it hits my core is enough to make me jerk. I yank against the chains, the metal clanking loudly.
That reaction earns me another smirk, but he says nothing as he rubs the ice over my clit. He shifts onto his knees again, positioning himself between my legs. His jeans and boxers are still halfway down his thighs. My greedy eyes eat him up, roaming over his muscled torso down to the V at his hips, but they stop when they reach his cock. He’s so big, much bigger than Jason, thicker too, and I start to wonder what it would feel like to—
“If you want it,” he says, wrapping his hand around his girth, “all you have to do is ask.”
He pumps it a few times, and I have no idea why that excites me so much. I shut my eyes because I’m afraid he might see every dirty thought running through my head, thoughts I shouldn’t be having about an ex-convict.
“I’ll take that as a not yet ,” he quips. “Guess I’ll just have to keep myself entertained until you’re ready. Maybe I can persuade you.” His hand moves lower at the same unhurried pace, languidly rubbing my entrance from top to bottom. “You’re persuadable, right?”
He’s toying with me. I can hear the somewhat playful mockery in his voice. He’s using everything I said to him that night against me.
Very slowly, he slips the ice cube between my folds, his thick fingers pushing it deep inside me. I gasp, my eyelids flying open at the unexpected intrusion, my thighs clamping tightly around his hand. It doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He lodges it inside me and leaves it there. I want to scream. It’s so cold, yet the discomfort heightens every sensation pulsing through me.
He reaches for another cube. That one, he takes into his mouth, and then it follows the same path as the cube before. Starting at my lower lip, he kisses a slow path down my neck. I force myself to lie there, non-responsive, but I can only ignore him for so long.
A moan is wrenched from my throat when he reaches my breast. I bite my lip as if that will retract the sound. My back arches off the bed, as if my body is offering itself to him. A pagan sacrifice to this God of deception and desire. He accepts without hesitation, taking a swollen nipple into his mouth, a nipple I thought was numb, but the raw nerve endings tingle when his cool tongue circles around it.
My breaths become more uneven and ragged as he moves lower. He kisses a path down my stomach and over my navel. Gripping my ankles, he pushes my knees up and apart and settles himself between them. Moist kisses are placed along my inner thigh, and my anticipation builds.
Not once did I ever think I would find myself in this position. I was vehemently against any kind of foreplay because I never understood the appeal. I understand it now. The light breaths on my skin are tantalizing, making me crave something, yet I don’t know what.
He spreads my legs further apart and dips his head between them. It happens so fast I have no time to prepare.
I jerk again, the cuffs slicing deeper into my wrists. “Alex...”
It’s a guttural sound, stemming from a deep, aching place inside me. I get a reciprocal sound in return, a low groan of appreciation, and the vibration against my clit is electrifying.
I don’t know what I’m feeling. Some parts of his mouth are warm, others are cold, and the mix is indescribably erotic. And when combined with the velvety feel of his tongue, it totally and utterly unravels me.
He lifts his head a fraction to look at me. “The taste of you is driving me fucking insane.”
He dips his head again. Eager and unrestrained, he eats me out, his tongue flicking my clit before delving inside me. His rough stubble grazes my inner thighs, adding another layer of sensation. My eyes roll back. I’m gripping the edges of the cuffs, trying to hold on to anything as my body writhes uncontrollably beneath him.
With every fervent stroke of his tongue, he takes me higher, but right before I reach my peak, he stops. He waits, and after a few seconds, his mouth closes over my clit again, his teeth lightly nipping the sensitive nub as he shoves two fingers inside me.
I shriek, the mixture of pain and pleasure almost unbearable. His skilled hand works me into a frenzy, and it doesn’t take long to push me to my peak again. But he abruptly stops just before I orgasm.
“Alex...please...”
“Tell me what you want.”
I grit my teeth. Beads of perspiration trickle down my neck. Pressure is building inside me and I’m desperate for release...but not so desperate that I’ll relent. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
He does this again and again and again, taking me to the edge and then reeling me back before I topple over. I’m a sweaty, heaving mess, so frustrated I could cry.
My body thrashes against the bed. It’s titillating torture, agonizing ecstasy. It’s too much. Gripping onto the metal bars of the bedframe, I use all my strength to pull myself higher on the bed and away from him. I want the tiniest bit of reprieve, but the bastard won’t even give me that.
Grabbing my hips, he yanks me back to him. His icy hand presses on my abdomen, pinning me down, punishing me for my defiance. He waits, daring me to say something, to challenge him. When I remain silent, he slaps my sex. Hard enough for me to wince, but the sting that comes after the cold wears off is exhilarating, a thrill I’ve never experienced. And then his mouth is on me again, as soothing as it is menacing.
His wicked tongue, his ruthless hands—they show no mercy. He sends me into orbit. I’m dizzy, spinning wildly in a whirlwind of passion and powerlessness, and I can’t escape.
“Alex... please ...I need...”
“Tell me what you need, Katie.”
I still can’t bring myself to say it.
Slowly, he crawls over me. “Tell me.” Long fingers wrap around my neck, and he lifts me off the pillow, angling my mouth toward his. “Tell me how bad you need me, how desperately you want me inside you.”
My body is yearning for him, the force so fierce I’m actually trembling. I’ve been holding out, trying to stay in control and not give in. But this man seems to know exactly how to bend me to his will.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” he says, gently sucking on my lower lip. “No biting.”
It’s an order I mindlessly obey. I don’t know how he discovered that his kiss is my biggest weakness, but he exploits it ruthlessly. One touch of his mouth and I already feel the irrepressible urge to raise my white flag and surrender. I sigh, drinking him in, loving that lingering hint of whiskey on his breath.
“I can hear it,” he murmurs, the words tickling my lips. “In every moan. In every whimper. I can hear how you’re aching for my cock. Just say it.”
He’s gentle at first, but he wasn’t lying when he said the taste of me drives him insane. His tongue slips into my mouth, and it’s like he loses his damn mind. That kiss is rapacious, ferocious, like he’s trying to consume me. It’s that insatiable hunger for me that inevitably makes me succumb.
“I want...” I pant. “I want you inside me.”
“Not like that,” he whispers against my lips. “Say, Alex...I want you to fuck me.”
My eyes widen slightly. I don’t talk like that, but he clearly wants to push me so far out of my comfort zone that I become unrecognizable to myself.
He notices my hesitation and tightens his grip around my throat. “Say it.”
“Alex...I want you to fuck me.”
It’s a breathless, aching whimper, and I get a low growl of satisfaction in return. He enters me with one powerful thrust, slamming in right to the hilt. The sheer brute force of it leaves me gasping.
Something about the way his body stiffens, the way he shuts his eyes and tries to breathe through the feeling of being inside me, sends me over the edge. It’s such a turn-on to see him lost in ecstasy like that, to know I have that kind of effect on him. He bites into my shoulder to steady himself. I need a moment, too. He’s so thick I have to shift my hips to ease the discomfort.
When he’s recomposed, he lifts his head and gently strokes my hair off my damp forehead. “Did I ever tell you that I love the sound of my name on your lips?”
Even in my lust-filled haze, confusion creeps in. I thought his name was John Turner, yet the sincerity in his voice makes it sound like his name is Alex.
I don’t get a chance to overthink it. His hips start to rock, and I’m instantly flung into a storm, a cataclysmic, devastating storm. He kisses me again, and the moment our lips meet, all the pent-up aggression that was simmering between us unleashes.
Alex kisses me with the same urgent hunger that leaves no space for restraint. His mouth crashes against mine as he claims my lips and my body at the same time. The air between us sizzles with an intensity that feels alive, electric, a violent collision of emotions too fierce to contain.
His hand tangles in my hair. His ragged breaths mingle with mine as though he hadn’t expected the sheer ferocity of my response. I can feel his heartbeat pounding against my chest, frantic and wild, mirroring the erratic rhythm of my own.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as if proximity could somehow quell the tempest brewing in this dingy warehouse. But it doesn’t. It only fuels the storm, pulling us deeper into its chaos.
I’m so close, and I just want him to topple me over the edge. But he’s still doing the same thing, taking me right to that point before he slows down.
“Alex,” I hiss through gritted teeth, not even trying to hide my frustration.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You know,” I pant.
“I do...but ask me nicely. Say, Alex...please make me cum.”
I offer no resistance this time. I’ve recently discovered that I’m not above begging. “Alex, please... please make me cum.”
His thrusts become harder, rougher. Each slap of his hips is a thunderclap, deep and resounding, shaking me to my very core. Damp and desperate, the smell of sweat and whiskey fills the room, our bodies overheating as he pounds into me.
The bed creaks, the legs screeching as they scrape against the concrete floor. The noise is exacerbated by the metal chain of my cuffs rattling against the bedframe, piercing clangs that echo through the room. His hands glide over mine and onto the bedframe to dull the sound.
Tightly gripping the metal bars, he uses it as leverage to shove himself deeper inside me. That’s all it takes. I burst, seeing a million stars as the world swirls around me. I moan loudly as an orgasm shudders through my body. His mouth slams on mine to keep me quiet, and he swallows every rapturous cry I release. He slows his pace and rides out the last waves of pleasure with me.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Your pussy is throbbing around me, and...aaah...I’m gonna cum.”
Without warning, he withdraws. He wraps his hand around his cock, gritting his teeth as he pumps. He shuts his eyes as he climaxes, hot liquid spilling over his hand and onto my stomach. A moment later, he collapses on top of me, heaving, his harsh breaths hot on my skin.
I don’t know what I just witnessed, but I’m in shock for a second or two. Shocked...and oddly aroused.
“You know,” I say, still trying to make sense of what happened. “I have an IUD...so that wasn’t really necessary.”
His head snaps up to look at me. He’s bewildered, staring at me with questioning eyes, so I help him figure it out.
“It’s...a little unsanitary, don’t you think?”
Amusement slowly replaces his confusion, and then he smiles.
It’s small at first, tentative, like he’s not entirely sure how to do it. But it grows, stretching across his face and softening every sharp edge. His stormy gray eyes, so often filled with intensity and shadows, light up in the cutest way. The harshness I’ve always seen is replaced with tenderness, and it’s so disarming I can’t look away.
I’ve never seen him like this, so open and unguarded. It’s as if, for the first time, he’s letting me see the man behind the hardened mask. That smile is so rare, so real, it’s heart-achingly beautiful.
And it does something to me. My chest tightens, warmth spreading through me, and I just melt.
“You smile now?” I ask.
That smile turns into a chuckle. “Maybe I finally found a reason to smile.”
“Surely, there’s an easier way to get a smile out of you. One that doesn’t involve me chained to a bed.”
“Actually, that’s the bit I liked most.”
“Hm?” I nod. “Are you going to let me go anytime soon?”
“No.” He lifts himself off me, shifting onto his knees once more. “I was in prison for four years, and when this is over, I’m probably going back for a very long time.” Using both hands, he grips my sides just below my breasts. “If this is all the time we have, I’m gonna take enough to get me through every lonely night that I can’t be with you.” His hands slowly move down to my waist. “I’m not letting you go until I have my fill of you...and I’m nowhere near done.”
The playfulness I saw just a moment ago disappears, and in one swift motion, he flips me over like a rag-doll. I land on my stomach with a thud, my wrists twisting over each other. He yanks my hips up, positioning himself behind me. He’s already hard again, and I bite into the pillow to brace myself for the impact.
With a quick jerk of his hips, he rams into me, dominating me in the most primal way. He wraps my hair around his fist while his other hand grips my hip to secure me in place. And then he goes wild, losing himself in me and this moment.
I don’t know how long I stay trapped in that bubble of euphoria. I don’t know how many times I orgasm or how many times I feverishly whisper his name. All I know is that when he finally stops, the birds are chirping outside. The sun is slowly creeping up in the sky.
When he unlocks the handcuffs, my arms are stiff, and my whole body is aching. He told me my breasts would be sore and tender. They are. He told me my muscles would be quivering from overexertion. They are. He told me I would feel raw and used, and I do.
But the thing that stands out scares me the most. I don’t know how this is going to end, but it’s very likely that I’ll never see him again. That means that I may never feel this kind of passion again, this kind of pleasure. He told me that when he’s done, every inch of me would want only him.
And it’s true.
All of it is true.