Scorch

  I couldn’t bring myself to unclamp my arms from around his neck, to put any more distance between us than there already was. He seemed to understand, palm on the small of my back and urging me closer until I was sitting on top of him, forehead to forehead.

  Holding his shoulders, my legs naturally parted around his thighs, uncaring of the lack of barrier between me and him.

  “Fawn,” he said in my ear, weakly trying to reposition me, “what if you dirty my pants?”

  His words were a challenge, and I was wound just tightly enough—in every sense—to meet it. Tossing my loose curls over one shoulder, I tilted my head to the side and gave him the smallest of smiles. “I suppose I’ll just have to clean you up.”

  Although his eyes flashed to mine, his arms encircled my sensitive backside; he returned the smile. “My, my,” he teased. “What are you up to, ma petit?”

  The combined adrenaline and need made my pulse increase. It made my actions bolder, braver. The fact that we could only see by the light the building gave off was an added advantage. “I think you know, sir,” I played along anyway. “You’re a very smart man.”

  I combed his hair away from his face, and he leaned his head against the back of the seat. “Needy, are we?”

  My lips grazed his neck, and suddenly I wasn’t afraid of anything. “If you need to tie me up to trust me, I suggest you do it now.”

  He cocked his head to the side, brow raising. “Making more demands,” he breathed against my lips, tugging gently on my hair.

  My neck craned backwards and he licked from my collarbone to chin. The warmth spread down my spine and I clenched my legs around him. My Owner gave me a knowing grin, sliding my sweater from my shoulders but pulling it behind my back, knotting the sleeves around my elbows so he wouldn’t further injure my wrist. Arms pinned out of the way, my chest jutted forward, and as Master Lyon looked at me, I could tell the same tension had built within him.

  Later, when we had time to process it all, perhaps we would regret what we’d done. Right now, when we were unable to tell each other so much, it was all we could do to release what we held secret.

  “Please, sir,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Please hurt me.”

  A sharp breath left his lungs. “Will you obey?” His voice came out like gravel, but he needed the control, even if he was relenting to what I wanted.

  “Yes, sir,” I answered, relieved that was all he required.

  One hand tangled in my improvised bonds, he bowed my head to his shoulder so he could use the other to unbutton my blouse. While his mouth explored the spot below my ear, I felt his hardness beneath me, the same as this morning. If he denied me this time, I didn’t think I would live through it. In this moment, so briefly, I would give in to anything he asked of me if it meant I was rewarded in the end.

  I gasped at the sudden pinch in my throat as he nipped at the skin, and he deepened the mark he’d already left there with his teeth. The pain was real and obvious. Honest. I knew where it came from, where it went. My Owner delivering the burn made it much deeper.

  Releasing me, I felt the throbbing in my throat, imagining puncture wounds or, at the very least, angry red imprints. I wanted it all; he could brand me for life.

  Master Lyon ripped the sweater from my arms and brought them in front of me, intertwining our fingers for a moment. “On your knees.”

  He hadn’t raised his voice above a whisper, but my legs locked into place and I crouched between the seats as I had before. Towering over me, he pushed the driver’s seat back so I would have enough room.

  “Show me how Marius made you kneel,” he said on a raspy breath, most likely expecting to make me flush, but I was all too eager to do as he said.

  Staring up at him, I slid my palms across his thighs, parting them slightly so I could lie in his lap. Master Lyon stroked my hair as I pressed my cheek against his knee, staring out into the glowing darkness. It gave everything around us a futuristic hue while inside the restaurant it was forever stuck in the past.

  “That’s very nice, Fawn,” he praised, fingers trailing down my bare back, the top half of my dress covering little more than my waist. “Now why don’t you show me how I prefer it?”

  Marius’ words echoed in a hidden compartment of my mind: “If you’d like to kneel for me, you must know how I prefer it.”

  Not knowing how else to change my posture, I turned my eyes away from the window and up at him. My Owner’s smirk was all the reward I sought, but he tugged me closer still, like he couldn’t restrain himself. With my ear against his thigh, he held my head atop his pants, close to the zipper so I could see the bulge there.

  Balanced between his thighs, I watched how he reacted as I felt him through the fabric with my mouth. He tasted of cotton and skin; like me—what he’d done to my body. He was mostly soaked by the time he gripped the back of my skull and tore me away.

  A tiny sound escaped me as his lips crashed into mine, and just as before, he delivered more pain, winding my hair around his wrist and pulling while his other arm held me in place on my knees.

  My trembling hands unwound his belt, half of me hoping he’d let me continue while the other wished to provoke him, make him hurt me more. Thankfully, he gave me both, allowing me to drop his pants and underwear as he pinched my sensitive nipples. Freeing his length, Master Lyon’s palm remained on the back of my head as I lowered it again.

  I knew this wouldn’t last; that my Owner wouldn’t let me have power over him much longer. Until then, I reveled in the feel of him, the smooth warmth as I slid him into my mouth. He immediately tightened his grip on my skull and just as he began to swell, I was pulled away, panting as he guided me back onto the seat between his legs. A growl rumbled throughout his chest as he sank into me, and he smacked my sensitive backside as I arched, already on the verge of no return.

  The sensation made me shudder, and instead of redirecting my attention, the pain made everything more intense.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he gently scolded in my ear, squeezing my hip to the point I thought it would bruise. I had no other choice but to stop moving, simultaneously chasing away my orgasm.

  “Please, sir,” I whispered, no longer caring if he needed me to beg. I repeated some variation of this plea over and over, and when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he smoothed his hand across my hip, to my bare thigh, and then between my legs.

  With him inside me, he leaned me back until my arms were braced against the front seats. It was far deeper than before, and the added torture from his fingers nearly made me come apart. Master Lyon felt me tighten around him, and I was met with a sharp thrust. When a strangled cry left my throat, he covered my mouth with his hand, spinning me around so fast I needed to hold onto the seat in front of me as he picked up the pace. All the while, the limited air made everything feel so much more dreamlike. Forgivable.

  “Who Owns you?” he snarled into my ear before biting the same spot on my neck. He was spurred on by my muffled shriek of surprise, and he licked away the pain, groping at my chest as if to further drive home the point. He only uncovered my mouth when I tried to stare back at him.

  “You do, sir,” I gasped, squeezing the black leather as I fought my impending climax.

  “Very good.” From nowhere, he swatted the bruises along my backside, awakening the ache there and causing me to pulse around him. I shook with the effort of staving off the crest of the wave, unwilling to let him win. He plunged two fingers into my mouth, coating them with my own saliva before they returned to the sensitive bud between my legs. “Are you going to ever forget that again?”

  As before, he removed his hand from my mouth just so I could answer. “No, sir,” I whimpered, ready to cry if he asked me to.

  He pumped into me harder, reawakening the spark of what I wanted. “Come.”

  It was said as a simple command, but he wouldn’t let me get there on my own. Master Lyon wrapped both hands around my chin, fingers invading my mouth, saliva down my chest as
my release hit me with stunning force. Had he not softened the sound, I was sure the town a mile over could have heard me scream.

  Master Lyon slowed so I could catch my breath, but when I tried to move, he repositioned me again so I lay on the seat beneath him. “Again,” he whispered across my chest as he parted my knees and set a softer, less ruthless rhythm. “Keep going.”

  My arms rose above my head, pressing against the window on the other side of the car so I could feel more of him each time he pulled away and came back to me. As orgasm echoed throughout my muscles, I could feel him growing larger, holding himself back for as long as he could.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I was pushing him forward so I was on top of him again, straddling his lap and taking over. His eyes lit with some mischievous thought as he grinned, placing his arms on either side of the seat so I could hold them down.

  I knew what he was trying to convey: I could have whatever I wanted, as long as I promised to stay in a position where he could give it to me. This was how Marius had posed us when we needed it, and the knowledge of how rare it was to see my Owner like this wasn’t lost on me. I rocked my hips, creating more friction between us as tremors of another climax shook my limbs. He held onto me as he came as well, stilling inside me and holding me to the spot for a long while after.

  Realizing my fingers were still wrapped around his wrists, I let go so I could right my clothes and prepare for another stretch of driving. Instead, Master Lyon took me into his arms as I felt the last remnants of our time together fade.

  Once our breathing returned to normal, he laid me on the back seat again, buttoning up my dress and reaching into his bag for wipes he used to clean me with. My cheeks heated, but it was a loving gesture; he wanted to take care of me, make sure I was okay. Still, he couldn’t drop his hardened façade—it was how he’d survived my many betrayals thus far.

  When he was done, Master Lyon granted me new underwear from my backpack, then gave me his jacket to prop up my head. Then he set to work fixing himself, not straying far before he zipped up his bag again. He helped me into the front seat, covering me with his jacket.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered as he opened the driver’s side door so he could sit behind the wheel.

  For a second, the lights blinded me, and I remembered where we were.

  These things were always easier to face in the dark.

  Seventeen

  Although the afterglow quickly faded, I couldn’t stop myself from clinging to it, hoping when I next opened my eyes, we would be somewhere else. Half-awake, I concentrated on the sounds around me; the hum of the engine, the window as it cracked open and the wind as it rushed into the car. The click of Master Lyon’s lighter and the resulting smell of smoke.

  The further we traveled, the heavier my eyelids became; the harder it was to resist fading into the blank nothing waiting for me. It must have been a few hours later when we stopped.

  “Wake up, mon amour,” he whispered, brushing hair behind my ear.

  Marius’ plea rang in my mind instead. I’m okay, my love. Don’t come here.

  My eyes split open as he stepped out of the car, then came my door. My body ached, but it served as a reminder of where he’d touched me. Master Lyon helped me sit up, and just as I shivered from the cool air he’d brought in with him, he covered my shoulders with his jacket.

  Stretching my stiff neck, Master Lyon took my hand and led me out of the vehicle. It was still dark, but it felt as if far longer had elapsed since the last time I’d been aware of my surroundings. It was disorienting, and I stumbled slightly along the narrow alleyway we ducked down. We were in what appeared to be a shopping center of some kind, and we trailed along the back where they kept the dumpsters. I held my breath as the stench of stale garbage filled the air, grateful when we came upon a white BMW that had been parked between two of the rectangular containers.

  Master Lyon opened the passenger’s side door for me, and by now I could lift myself into the seat. Shutting me in, he tossed our luggage in the back and climbed behind the wheel. Once his door was closed, he appeared to take a deep breath.

  I cleared my throat. “Is there more water?”

  Reaching into the glovebox, he handed me a bottle and uncapped the top. Then he twisted to the back seat, retrieving a brown paper bag. From it, he gave me an icepack he had to break to make cold, pressing it to my neck at my confusion.

  “You don’t want it to bruise too much,” he explained, and I gasped at the frozen plastic as it touched my skin. He let go when he was convinced I would hold it there myself, and then he was rummaging in the bag again.

  This time, he opened a bottle of aspirin and swallowed three without much water. I watched as he replaced it, and he made no comment. I could tell it was getting to him, all of the events that had led us here, but I was powerless to help.

  While I sipped, he smoked, car turned off with the window cracked. It couldn’t have been the same cigarette I’d heard him light earlier—it appeared new, not yet even burned to the middle. We were both stalling.

  “We should be at the cabin around four,” he said like time meant anything.

  I glanced at the glovebox, the pack of gum that had been left in the cupholder. For someone who despised relying on outsiders for aid, Master Lyon had requested these items; someone had to deliver them to the designated spot.

  “May I ask where these vehicles have come from, sir?”

  With only the butt left, he flicked it out the window then buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. “Why does it matter?”

  I expected that was the end of it when he reached into his pocket for his cigarette case, and I realized his supply had dwindled considerably since we’d left this morning. He must have been smoking more than usual, stressed now more than ever about the current situation and when he would have to tell me the truth.

  It wasn’t until the car was in motion again that he answered. “You saw how the girl acted earlier. Money rules most.” He cracked his neck, obviously sore from driving for hours on end. “I told the waitress to describe a black truck if someone came asking about us, to tell them we left hours ago.” A low laugh escaped him. “I could have told her to hop on one foot and she would have done it for one hundred dollars more.”

  That didn’t really explain much, but at least he hadn’t flat-out ignored me. Perhaps my Owner felt guilty about keeping so much hidden; he would give me any information he deemed safe, and I wouldn’t push him into shutting me out.

  I gestured to the gum in the cupholder and he nodded, unwrapping it for me with this cigarette hanging from his lips, knee controlling the wheel as he threw the car into reverse and we were soon on yet another deserted stretch of highway. The taste brought back memories of my first time up the mountain, the popping of my ears.

  We had hours to go before that would happen, but I couldn’t shake the sour taste in my mouth any other way.

  “We can trust these people?” I carefully broached.

  Master Lyon didn’t look away from what was ahead of him. “No one can be trusted, Biche.”

  After a little while, he’d taken out his phone, clipping it into a device attached to the windshield even though he no longer used it for directions. He knew the way by memory whereas I hadn’t had a chance to burn every landmark, sign, and mile indicator that led to the secret passageway he’d built around his fortress. My original plan was to somehow put space between me and my Owner before we passed through, but it was obsolete now. I needed something more substantial—something that wouldn’t end in my immediate capture.

  “We have to go through that tunnel again,” I realized out loud, “don’t we, sir?”

  Though his smile was unsteady, he tried to put me at ease. “Would you like me to hold your hand so you don’t get scared?”

  I matched his tense teasing, but the sentiment was sincere. “I’m never afraid when I’m with you.”

  An eyebrow rose but he didn’t turn to me. “Not anymore?�
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  I shook my head, replaying our first meeting the way I had so many times before.

  When I was brought back to the Compound, I’d vowed to never be sold again. To me, it was preferable to live a life that was predictable and safe as opposed to someone’s pet. I was still treated unfairly, beaten, starved, but I knew what to expect. I always knew my role, how to best perform it. In many ways, life within the Order was less complicated, and I’d only begun to learn this when my Owner purchased me.

  I recalled his dark hazel eyes, the wilderness reflected in them as he asked, “Who are you more afraid of, me or her?”

  The way I’d answered without hesitation: “Her.”

  Master Lyon had entered my life and changed everything.

  “No,” I said. “Not for a long time.”

  I leaned my cheek against his shoulder as we both stared at the path ahead. I closed my eyes a moment, absorbing the safety he offered at every cost.

  “Will…” I took a deliberate pause, trying to appear hesitant when I needed to know the answer. “Will Marius be there, at the cabin?”

  My breath caught in my chest as he glanced down at me, but I kept my eyes on the road. “Eventually,” he decided.

  I stared up at him, anticipating more, but he was finished. Instead, he lit another cigarette.

  He wouldn’t think about Marius until he absolutely had to; he wouldn’t tell me unless there was no other option. My Owner didn’t do this to hurt me—on the contrary. He would stop at nothing until he was the only one in the position to cause me pain; the one to soothe it away.

  I was afraid he’d reject me, but I sat back in my seat so I could slip my palm into his. Master Lyon’s fingers wove through mine, the index and middle of his other hand taking the cigarette from his lips every so often so he could release the smoke.

  Had I not been paying attention, I would have missed the tunnel entrance entirely. Master Lyon pressed the screen of his phone and it came to life, illuminating the dark cabin. Of course he’d angled it so I couldn’t read the code as he punched it in, but Marius had already given it to me. Still, I let him have this lie, knowing the truth would get us nowhere.