Chapter 11
Chained Sin
CASPIAN
My palms greeted the smooth oak door of my captain’s quarters.
Groaning, my forehead landed between them for a moment of reprieve as the influx of mixed emotions continued with their incessant, internalized torment.
It wasn’t just billowing agitation, but a deep-seated yearning, a longing wrapped so tightly with convolution that I couldn’t begin to decipher its purpose.
There was just something about her that threatened to drive me fucking mad.
“Oh, by the grace of Ellira,” I mumbled to myself, a deep exhale filling the cabin.
I was going insane. There was no way—
“Oh, Cas, you sound like a damned soul.” The melodic hum came from behind me, belonging to none other than the other woman who’d nearly been the death of me more times than I could count.
“Careful, Saph,” I growled. “I am far from in the mood to deal with your antics, especially after the sparring session earlier today.”
“Antics?” she mewled, her fingers ghosting against my spine before beginning their trail up toward the nape of my neck. “What antics do you speak of?”
Driving my heel into the planked wood of my quarters, I spun, my palm meeting her throat as our positions switched faster than she could comprehend.
My grasp tightened, and I shoved her back.
As she collided with the wall, my veins ignited with incomprehensible need—a need I knew Saph would never fill, but a temporary fix could satiate me just long enough.
As our gazes locked, there wasn’t an ounce of fear emanating from her caramelized eyes, only fervency.
We’d shared countless intimate moments, the two of us bathing in one another’s need for release and control.
Our shared need for harsh slaps, sharpened bites, and mind-numbing asphyxiation highlighted the concepts of love and longing we lacked.
Outside of her title of navigator and mine as her captain, our sexual engagements were merely that—a means to keep our demons at bay.
Darkened swirls danced up both of her bronze arms, trailing across her collarbones with edges that sank beneath the cut of her light linen top.
The material made her nipples easily visible, and the under the breast corset she wore did nothing to conceal them.
The patterns were ones I’d found myself curious about, but I refused to ponder too long.
It was an exchange that would require me to open the doors of my own haunting recollections, including the reasons I had lightning inked along my entire left arm and across the expanses of my chest and back.
With her neck pinned beneath my hold, she shook her head. Espresso-colored bob swaying, her heart-shaped lips curled into a knowing smile. “Did I hit a nerve, Caspian Vayne?”
“Why would you assume such nonsense?”
“Someone seems a bit more…” her hand landed on my hardened member, palming me as a grunted moan tumbled from my throat, “tense than usual.”
My chest hitched, my words coming out encased in a snarl. “If you wish to test the—”
Silencing me, her mouth collided with mine. It was a kiss molded by heat and near-desperation, lacking tenderness. She worked to consume my soul in ways only she could, her tongue sweeping from molar to molar as our breaths merged as one.
Driven by her passion-infused touch, I slid my hand upward, my fingernails digging into the underside of her jaw.
Yanking her forward, our connection intensified, the space between us shrinking further.
Her pebbled nipples landed flush against me, the chill of the chain dangling between my pierced nipples sinking into my solar plexus.
The frigidity of the links reminded me of its presence, one I often forgot, but one that’d become a rein she’d happily tugged before.
Without wasting another breath, her hand slithered beneath the hem of my shirt, moving across my hair-covered abdomen before finding the very thing my mind had briefly settled on.
Twisting the metal around her forefinger, she pulled down with an intentional yank, pain searing across my chest as I hissed between clenched teeth.
“Gods, Saph.”
“Keep purring,” she crooned, tugging harder. “Because, by the grace of Ysalyne, I love listening to you.”
Fucking gods spite me.
As if I were nothing more than a hound on a leash, she guided me toward the bed by my bodily décor. Once satisfied with my position, her palm drove into my chest, forcing me back onto the mattress with enough force to drive the air from my lungs.
As I worked to refill my lungs, she crawled onto the bed, sinking her clothed core down onto my waist. The striped black and white pants adorning her only seemed to accentuate her thighs, thighs I craved to be between.
With my attention elsewhere, she yanked my arm overhead, shackling it in the cuffs that’d become part of the very design of my bed frame.
“You’re not going to merely tie me to the bed and—”
The unrelenting metal closed around my other wrist, its nip threatening to suffocate me.
My mind swam, moving toward the abysmal darkness of my past. I’d been sold off to the crown at the age of ten, tormented and used for the king’s desires before he carved me into the very weapon I’d grown to be.
He’d robbed me of my childhood, leveraging my dreams of becoming a pirate against me the day he tossed me overboard into the Cove of Ellira, knowing damn well I didn’t know how to swim.
He’d—
Sapphira freed the buckle from my waist, drawing me back with fingers that wasted no time in exploring my hardness.
Working over the pants still clinging to my lower half, the desire to drive me to the brink before granting me the grace of release pulsed within her darkening gaze.
At the very thought of her control over me, pleasure numbed my senses, locking the shadows of my demons in the confines of my subconscious.
With their sudden disappearance, I rocked my hips skyward.
Grinding against her touch, a huffed pant left me as she pressed down to follow my intention.
I matched the motion, every buck a display of the aching burn building in my lower abdomen.
She mirrored each thrust, granting me what I wanted, knowing exactly which buttons to push to get me off.
“Do you like that, Captain?”
My chest hitched, a panted moan tumbling from between my lips. As her wrist rolled across my length once more, my head slammed against the bed frame, my back arching in response to the overwhelming influx of euphoria.
Still clinging to the chain, she pulled back forcefully, a sharp sting erupting across my chest. “I believe I asked you a question, Cas.”
Hissing between clenched teeth, I peered at her beneath hooded lids. “Yes, I fucking like it. Now stop toying with me, Sapphira.”
“Oh?” she hummed, trailing her fingertips from the decorative piece to my throat. “Maybe I want to hear you beg for my cunt, Captain.”
“I don’t beg anyone for—”
“You will.” Pushing herself upright, the warmth of her body vanished as she slid from the bed. “I mean, or you won’t, and then I will leave you chained here with a hard prick and the complete inability to get off. I’m sure Syoran would looooove that.”
Growling, I yanked against the cuffs, knowing damn well they were forged to be inescapable. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I wouldn’t?” She pressed her hand to her chest, feigning offense. “After all these years, you really don’t know me, do you?”
“Saph get the fuck—”
“Beg,” she commanded as she began unlacing her corset with an intentional slowness. “And I will ride you until you see stars, Caspian Vayne.”
My jaw feathered as I watched the taut fabric fall to the ground, the light linen beneath it failing to conceal her assets—not that she’d ever wanted it to.
Her hands trailed up her sides, caressing her curves as she worked the material up her abdomen to reveal her bare breasts beneath.
Their fullness evoked a deep snarl from me, summoned from the depths of my internalized hunger.
It was a need so insatiable I feared only one would be capable of satisfying me to completion.
The fucking bitch in holding.
Gods, what was it about that scrawny whore that drove me so mad? I’d never had a thing for redheads, let alone women who barely had an ounce of meat on them. And somehow, someway, Rohen Levitte had snaked her way into the dark recesses of my mind, threatening to consume me whole.
And the worst part of it all was that I wanted her to.
The snap of leather brought me back, the sound barely registering before the pleasurable ache spread across my bare skin. Its red-hot anger pulsed with an intention shared with the wielder, one indicative of an impending outburst.
“Are you still thinking about that bitch?” Saph snarled, wrapping the belt once responsible for holding up my trousers around her knuckles.
A smile consumed my lips. “Oh? Is someone jealous?”
“Jealous?” she spat, in clear denial of how easily readable she was. “Why the fuck would I be jealous of any woman warming your bed?”
My tone dropped a few octaves as my tongue swept across my canines. “Perhaps because you are one of the women warming my bed.”
“Shut the hell up, Cas—”
“Come. Fucking. Make. Me.”
She pounced with the order, quickly shedding her clothing before she settled her nude body back over me.
Like a starved commoner, she unbuttoned my pants with a quickness that gave away the slickness coating her thighs.
Pressing them together, she attempted to hide the very thing I’d already sniffed out as she pulled my pants and underwear down with a simple tug.
My length sprang free, slapping against my lower abdomen. The audible gasp she released at the sight of it never ceased to amuse me. It was a sound that encased a compliment, one that often left women and men unable to walk for days following my explorations with them.