Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
ADELINA
From how I was bound to the motorcycle and how we sped back to the warehouse, I would’ve thought Sas had some choice words for me, but he said absolutely nothing. He faced forward, darting between cars and barely braking when we turned.
I could barely peel my eyes open, hoping and praying he wouldn’t crash, or we wouldn’t be plowed into by a semi. It was late at night, sure, but LA was like Las Vegas. It never slept.
He pulled into the clubhouse parking lot, cut the engine, and jumped off the bike. For a split second, I was sure he was about leave me on the bike and outside for the rest of the night. It was just the type of bastard thing he would do, punishing me just to punish me without admitting his part in our mess.
Maybe forcing me to stay outside all night would’ve been better, because once he unhooked the bungee cords, he wrapped his fist in my hair and yanked me off the bike. My wrists were still bound together as I stumbled, his captive. He barely caught me before I fell, whipping back my head and nearly breaking my neck in the process. The stars danced above me until his face blurred.
And then . . .
He slammed his mouth to mine.
What the...? I lost any words as he penetrated my mouth with his tongue, his teeth grazed my lips, and I tasted pennies. It was like he intended to swallow me whole. I wanted to get lost in him.
Or anyone.
But damn, he tasted good. Like the sweet cigars I’d tried in one of Papà’s clubs. My mouth watered for more.
No, all of it.
Where had this sexual minx come from?
Was I really such a sick little slut that I needed this abuse to be so turned on?
He balled his hand up further, and I bent backward. Years of dance and gymnastic practice made my body flexible. But he seemed intent on finding my breaking point.
I wouldn’t break.
Ever.
Caving under pressure wasn’t in my blood.
Wasn’t in my heart or my head.
Finally, he pulled back from the kiss, both of us gasping for breath. I couldn’t see his face clearly with the light blocked out, but his heaving chest pressed against my body told a story he clearly didn’t want to admit.
He was as breathless as me. I licked my lips to gather the taste of him.
He pushed me away. “If you want to play this way, there will never be an escape.”
“You made that very clear,” I said through clenched teeth. “And where I come from, marriage only ends when one of us dies.”
He grabbed the bungee cords and pulled them over my hands. They scratched my skin so hard, they’d probably leave marks, but I didn’t care.
“Go to the storage shed out back and grab some rope. And carabiners.”
I swallowed. “Why?”
“Don’t fucking question me, princess,” he growled, anger flashing in his eyes. “Meet me at the Church table in seven minutes.”
I snorted, and Sas’s anger only grew until it was molten lava in his eyes. Good. “That’s a very specific number.”
“What can I say? I’m feeling lucky.” He cracked his knuckles. “Come naked and with the rope.”
I rubbed my already sore wrists, not excited to be tied up again. Or to be naked with a man who had so rudely tossed me out before. Or to comply with his wishes.
“And if I say no?” I asked.
“Make sure you’re in the obeisant position by the time I get there,” he said like he didn’t hear me. “If you know what that is.”
He walked away from me, but I didn’t move, only calling, “What are you doing?”
“Pissing.” He slammed the clubhouse door behind him.
I looked between where he stood and where he wanted me to go and get rope and something else. I didn’t remember. And what the fuck did that word mean? Obeisant.
Whipping out my phone, I did a quick Google search.
“Great. He wants me to kneel.”
Static fuzz overtook my mind, and I blinked trying to clear it. Blood rushed past my ears, heart pounding so hard that I thought it might explode from my chest. I was about to be tied up and dominated. I was on the losing side and knew it.
Part of me said run. Get the fuck out while I could. But the other part of me—the part that was winning out—told me to do it.
Because fuck my father. Fuck what he did by selling me off. Fuck all the times I played the good and dutiful daughter.
Sas was dangerous—maybe monstrous—but he was my future husband. My lips still buzzed from where he kissed me, and my pussy throbbed, wanting to find out what exactly he could do.
So seven minutes later, I walked into the great room, where they held Church at the long dining table. I wore a robe but my feet were bare. The rest of me was nearly bare, but I knew Sas wasn’t going to like it. He was already inside the room, and he clamped his jaw shut. The vein on his neck pulsed. Anger washed through his determined features.
“I said naked,” he growled.
“I know,” I murmured.
“Do you not know the word? I would think a privileged, educated princess like yourself would comprehend.”
“I do!” My cheeks burned.
“So you’re choosing to disobey me.” A cruel smile curled his lips.
His hands were behind his back, like he was purposefully hiding something from me. Terror struck my heart and rushed through my veins, but everything else made me take another step into the room.
I jutted my chin higher. He wanted a game, that’s what I’d give him. So I batted my lashes and poured on the sweetness. “As a pretty princess, I didn’t have any handmaidens to undress me.”
Sas rolled his eyes. “That’s the excuse you’re using?”
“A lot of people live here,” I said. “People come and go all the time.”
“Everyone’s at the bonfire.”
“They’ll be back soon.”
“Yeah, and?”
“They’ll see me,” I hissed.
“Good.” He walked over, planted both hands on my robe, and ripped it off, nearly shredding it.
“Careful,” I warned. “That’s cashmere.”
He threw my robe on the ground, the leopard print lining hanging out.
I tried to ignore how I stood naked in front of him. The cool AC pumped from the high vents, and gooseflesh covered my skin. I could blame the coolness for my perked nipples too, but I had no excuse for my wet pussy.
That, I could blame on anticipation.
Being in front of him now was different from last time, where at least I had the protection of my sweatshirt and thong. I had lost my pants in his room, and something told me that I would never be getting those back.
“The robe costs more than you,” I said, eyeing one of the few nice things I had here. The rest of my luggage never came, or I might’ve taken the time to put on some nice—and expensive—lingerie. Not that I thought Sas would’ve appreciated it.
“Good thing I’m cheap.” He circled me once like a predator, his hands shifted so I couldn’t see what he had in them. I glanced from the corner of my eye, even jerking my head, but then he slapped my ass cheek.
Pain slipped up my back and down my leg, hot and sizzling, but the sting quickly faded, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. And the way my cunt throbbed, I was in deep shit.
How could my body betray me so? Then again, my head and heart wanted this too. The old pieces of me fell away, and I wanted to experience what could be. What I could have.
Sas circled me twice.
A third time.
Finally, he stopped behind me.
I stiffened.
“I would ask if you trust me,” said Sas, “but I don’t want a lie.”
“You don’t want the truth, either,” I said, almost not recognizing the husky tone in my voice.
Then he covered my eyes with something dark.
I jerked, but he tightened his hand in my hair, pulling me back. It wasn’t painful—no, I nearly giggled like a little girl. And a moan slipped out before I could think about what that said to him.
He didn’t say anything, though, and the anticipation crawled up my skin like a creeping spider. I remained steady, but blind. He tightened the blindfold over my eyes.
Then, every sense except for sight flared to life. I could feel the air brushing over my shoulders from the vents. I could smell the dinner Duchess made earlier—beef stroganoff. The industrial lights above us buzzed and hummed. And Sas’s feet scuffed against the floor.
Next, his heavy breath brushed my hair. “Well, princess?”
I gulped. “Well, what?”
My voice was surprisingly loud with my heightened hearing. I swore I could hear his heartbeat. Everything I could smell, feel, and taste felt like someone had turned up the volume.
I could smell him too.
Sas didn’t wear cologne, and I doubted he owned a bar of soap, but his natural musk was... soft. Manly. Nearly overpowering. Maybe that was just now, but I could also smell the remnants of the bonfire wafting from him.
Without touching me more, he was gone.
His boots scuffed the floor, each sound too heavy and too loud and circling me.
I trembled. “Sas?” The waver in my voice surprised me.
No answer.
“Sas.” I reached for the blindfold, but he pulled it back down. His large hands could take up my whole face.
“Don’t,” he growled.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“You said you wanted my cock.”
Heat covered my cheeks, and my pussy throbbed. Over the lump in my throat, I said, “I don’t think I said that.”
“You didn’t have to, princess,” said Sas, and I sensed... laughter.
He was fucking laughing at me?
Truthfully, I would be laughing at me too. How many times had I seen other girls get into situations like this? How many times had I told Catrina not to fall prey to any of the aggressive men in the nightclubs?
Yet I had opened myself up to this, and I... yeah, I liked it.
“Your body says it all.” He inhaled loudly. “Your scent says it all.”
My scent? Me? My arousal.
Damn my body for giving it away.
“So you want to be my little slut.” He laughed. “You could’ve fooled me with how you walked in wearing a robe. A prude move. Are you a prude, princess?”
“Are you a dick, Sas?”
“Absolutely.” His voice came from another direction. How had he moved so quick? “Tell me, princess. Do you want to be my whore?”
“It’s what you’ve been calling me,” I said, trying to follow his voice.
“Do you always listen to what men say about you?”
It came from another fucking direction. How the hell was he doing this?
“No, I don’t listen to what men have to say about me,” I said, but my words faltered.
“Oh, I know. You don’t take orders well.”
“Those aren’t the same thing,” I said.
“Do you agree or disagree about taking orders?”
Was his voice nearer? Somewhere in front of me? It was starting to circle around my head, making me dizzy.
“I don’t like taking orders from you,” I said.
“So I’m special.” Suddenly his hand clasped on my hip, holding me in place.
He had come at me from behind. How had I missed that?
Sas dragged the front of his leather jacket across my bare back. His hot breath blew into my ear, and I shied away. A new chill ran down my body. I couldn’t turn away from him as he tightened his grip on me, holding me in place. Damn his lanky arms.
The front of his pants nudged at my back. I felt his bulge. His weight. His length.
“Spread your legs, princess,” he said. “Let’s see how much of a whore you are.”
I spread my legs immediately, putting them shoulder-width apart like I had when Rafe was teaching me how to shoot a gun.
Yeah, I did want his cock. I couldn’t even argue anymore.
I needed it.
Then something touched me on my pussy lips, and I froze. That wasn’t a cock.
No, of course not, Adelina, I told myself. It wasn’t even a cock with a condom on it. It didn’t feel right. This thing was more rubbery. Almost plastic. Definitely harder. And then it buzzed.
A jolt rolled through me, and I fell back. Pleasure rippled from my clit and up my spine, but surprise took over that I hadn’t landed on the ground. Sas had his arm wrapped around me, and my body was pressed against his.
He was keeping me upright, trapping me in his grasp, and he set the vibrating toy against my lower lips again then dragged it forward. I cried out when he pressed it straight to my clit. An immediate moan followed, ending on a whine. My body never reacted this way when I touched myself or used my toys back at home.
Sas rotated the vibrator over my clit in smooth circles, holding me up as my legs turned to jelly. My breathing came raggedly, and I clamped my teeth shut as to not scream out.
“See, princess, you are chasing the high,” he whispered into my hair, and I shivered.
How was he doing this to me?
What was he doing to me?
I couldn’t see, could barely think. The blood rushed so hot and heavy past my head that I couldn’t breathe. And my thoughts?—
What thoughts?
All the information in my brain was a jumbled and broken cacophony. Everything faded as my body, mind, and soul focused in on the one point in my body, the place where Sas had his fucking vibrator!
I jerked my hips, a climax coming. My breathing quickened. Hips started rocking. I was going to come.
Then Sas was gone.
The vibrator disappeared.
I fell back, catching myself before I landed on my ass.
A dark chuckle echoed around the room.
I reached out to grab him, but my hands slipped through thin air.
“Sas,” I whined as my thighs clamped shut.
I’d been so close.
I could be so close again.
My hand started toward my pussy. I could touch myself and find the release I felt desperate for.
Large hands flipped me over, onto my hands and knees. Pain jolted up my bones.
But he was gone again.
“Get up,” ordered Sas, his voice hard.
“Orgasm,” I groaned. So close.
“Whore,” he spat, “get up. Before I make you.”
I stayed on my hands and knees, trying to hide my smile. His threat was my promise. “Make me,” I cooed.
Anticipation might land me in the ground, but I didn’t fucking care. I just needed to get off.
Wrapping his fist into my hair, Sas dragged me to my feet and then slapped me chest first on to the table. The air gushed from my lungs, and my head almost hit the hard wood. And then I started laughing like a madman.
Sas kicked open my legs. My pussy was exposed, chilled from the AC.
“Sas,” I whined, grinding myself against the wood.
“Shut up, princess,” he hissed.
Then he grabbed my hand, fingers rough, and pressed the rope from the storage room to my wrist. I wiggled, but he tightened the rope. When I tried to reach out, he grabbed my other hand and threw it against the table. Then he tied down my left hand too.
I rolled on the wood, and Sas laughed. I almost liked the sound of it.
“You think you’re gonna get off that way?” he asked.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I said.
He slapped my ass, and I squealed, now loving that sting. He pressed a thing into my ear. One side, then the other. And all the ambient noises went dead.
Earplugs.
I couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Was tied up.
I was wet clay, and Sas was the absolutely ruthless sculptor.