Chapter Nine
IT TOOK LONGER THAN normal for his dark voice to slip past the lust-fogged haze of my brain. It took another moment for the trick to fully be understood.
I’d signed because one man a year for four years was survivable. I’d signed because I’d rather have a guarantee of an ending, than battle for the unknown escape that may or may not eventuate.
But…four men a month?
One a week?
One hundred and ninety two strangers who would touch me, fuck me, make me take this dreadful, heinous, body-stealing, mind-breaking, thought-silencing, rational-killing drug?
No!
No way.
In a flash of coherency, I launched at him.
One moment, I rubbed myself over my knickers in full view of this monster—hating myself, cursing myself, unable to fucking stop—the next, I toppled him backward and straddled his hips.
My coherency faltered, falling beneath the crippling, clawing greed.
God, I needed. I craved. I arched and spread my legs, pressing down until our groins connected.
I couldn’t control it.
It was as if tiny monsters ran in my bloodstream, turning me against myself, shredding my decency, my common-sense, deleting every ethic and moral I’d ever had.
I hated it.
I hate him.
I went to slap him, but he grunted, locking possessive hands on my hips.
The second he touched me, it was all over.
I quaked. Any remaining shred of who I was became tinder under a glowing lava of lust. It sparked, caught fire, incinerated me to ash.
My skin blazed. It burned. It hurt. It hurt so much to be bruised and bitten.
I couldn’t stop it.
My hand fell from the almost-slap, landing on his chest. I undulated on top of him, trying to get off, desperate to dispel the driving, suffocating need to come before he threw me away.
If I came, maybe I could get back in control of myself.
If I gave in for just a second, I might get free.
Please!
For a fraction of a moment, his blue gaze shot black, and he jerked me impossibly hard onto him. The seam of his zipper caught my clit. The violent pressure of being ground onto him made stars supernova in my core.
Yes.
No.
Fuck.
My eyes flared as I screamed at myself to run like a normal person, all while my body rocked against the impressively large steel in his trousers. I was crazy with need. And he was as horny as I was, yet he hadn’t taken the drug.
He’d turned me into this animal.
My lack of control turned him on.
His stare trapped me in place. He drove upward with his hips.
Another whip of desire dragged an embarrassing cry from my lips.
My hate coiled with need.
My fury plaited with yearning.
Every synapsis and instinct that kept me alive switched from survival to sex.
I trembled under salacious perversion and the unbearable, unbearable need to come.
He never stopped glaring as I rocked on him, using him, stealing something of him because he’d stolen all of me.
I hyperventilated as the coiling, clambering orgasm barrelled from my fingertips to my toes and ricocheted into my pussy.
Yes.
Yes.
Holy…
My head fell back. My mouth opened.
He tried to shove me away—to prevent me from finding release, but I was already too far gone.
For the first time in my twenty-two years of life, I let go.
I allowed the sensations of being fully swept away to snatch me, trap me, wring me dry as my internal muscles squeezed to breaking point then shattered outward.
I rode him.
I dug ten fingernails into his chest as I shamelessly screamed, thrust, and stole every droplet of pleasure from him.
I’d never felt anything like this.
Even when in the middle of sex, clutching Scott’s warm body, feeling him pump inside me; even mid-orgasm that I’d grown proficient at giving myself in the shower—nothing felt as good as this.
As all of this.
Nothing.
This was something else.
This wasn’t legal.
This would kill me.
Need crackled like electric shocks beneath my skin. The drive to have a cock inside me so cruel and clamorous, it was as violent as hail bouncing off my naked body.
The two elements combined—fire and ice—made me a trembling, ravenous thing.
I waited for exhaustion to kick in—to be sated from the most intense release of my life—but my heart rate never slowed. The electricity didn’t stop torturing me. Another greedy command whispered darkly through my core.
There was no reprieve.
No moment when I could be sane and stop being this wanton creature, enslaved by her own perversions.
Come again.
Again.
You need it.
I couldn’t think about anything else.
But I had to think.
I had to remember what he’d said.
Something about men.
God, yes…a man. I needed a man. I needed what they could give me. I needed to be mounted and ridden. I needed to be filled and consumed.
I cried out as a full-body quake jolted me. The experience was like an all-over orgasm. My skin felt like it’d burst open. My blood boiled with bubbles of potency, and my muscles cramped from the hyper-drive my system revved at.
Closing my eyes, I wanted to die.
I wanted to escape my own body—to put it out of its misery. Slowly, despite all my efforts to stay sensible, I lost myself. The nucleus of who I was grew further and further away, buried in a tomb and covered with sands of this treacherous island.
I forgot about what was so important. I gave in to the undeniable command to come and come because I couldn’t do anything else.
I couldn’t win.
I couldn’t fight.
Vicious hands shoved me to the floor.
I bounced as he clambered to his feet. His bronze-tipped hair was no longer sleek and perfect but tussled and wild. His eyes glowed with viciousness and the same mirroring hunger to fuck.
His hand fell to his cock, squeezing the huge outline in his trousers with white-knuckled fury. “Touch me again and you’ll no longer be protected.”
“Protected?” I blinked, clutching tight to conversation, using it as a life raft.
Words.
War.
Those were important.
Not sex.
God…sex.
Stop it!
“Protected as a goddess. The price I can charge for you is all that’s keeping me from destroying you.”
The threat echoed with sexual promise, but it also vibrated with truth. It whispered that I needed that protection. I shouldn’t throw away my value because, if he took me, I would never be leaving this island.
Four years from now.
Never from now.
He’d kill me.
And with the way my body begged and howled for his, I’d probably scream in ecstasy and let him.
And that was delicious ice water thrown directly on my face. Imaginary ice cubes bounced off my brow with coherency.
I was lucid…just.
Dangerous. Dangerous.
This isn’t a game.
Snap out of it!
I tugged on my tangled hair, doing my best to yank sense into my chemically altered brain.
Amazingly, another wisp of sexual fog receded, bringing a homicidal embarrassment that I’d been reduced to nothing more than a rutting creature, demented with need, lowered to a desperate version that I would never ever have permitted myself to become.
“You can stay here until you’ve wrung your system dry.” He growled under his breath as he visibly struggled to take his hand away from his cock. “Once again, you’ve destroyed your own welcome party, Eleanor Gra
ce. You should be out sunbathing on the beach by now, but instead, I have to lock you in my office so you don’t fuck one of my valued guests.”
I swayed, once again suffering mental images that I desperately wanted. The core-clenching deliciousness of the word fuck made wetness trickle down my thigh even though I still wore my underwear. “Isn’t that what I’m here to do?” My hand strayed to my breast, squeezing roughly. I tried to stop. It was an impossibility. “Isn’t that why you gave me this horrific substance?” I moaned as I pinched my nipple, wishing I was naked. He was naked. Everyone was fucking naked and fucking each other.
“There are rules. Approved locations. This isn’t an orgy. This is business.”
“How can you think sex is a business when—”
“Sex is the oldest business in the world.” He ran a hand through his hair, slipping back into the formidable island mogul I’d met on the beach. “It’s the rawest commodity we have.”
A flicker of a thought filled my sex-obsessed brain. “If it’s so valuable, let me use it to buy my freedom.”
“You will use it to buy your freedom. Four men a month. I believe that’s perfectly fair. I could command you fuck four a day. Four an hour. I could string you up and leave you at anyone’s mercy.”
I battled away the pictures in my brain. The aphrodisiac that such horrendous acts painted.
Do it.
Let them.
Drain me dry from this horror.
Gritting my teeth, I forced out, “I’m not talking about perverts who pay you to trap and drug unwilling girls.” I moaned under my breath as another wave of intoxicating hunger tried to give me an orgasm just from the soft friction of my clothes, from the tightness of my knickers, from being alive in a world that was so erotically charged.
“You’re saying you’re unwilling?” He chuckled with black venom. “When you humped me without my permission? While you stand there, touching yourself?” He bared his teeth. “Currently, you are the most willing woman alive. You would sleep with anyone, anything. You would do whatever I commanded if I promised you could have my cock.”
Oh, God.
I stumbled.
I landed on my hands and knees.
I felt violently, physically ill as the craving inside turned frenzied.
I needed another release. It wasn’t just a passing thought. It was a literal life or death requirement.
I went to lie down. To do the unthinkable and make myself come in front of him.
But his voice snapped me upright. “Don’t touch yourself.”
Lifting my heavy head, shuddering as my hair slipped and licked over my back and shoulders, I stopped fighting to stay human. I was on all fours. My legs were spread like a mare in season. My hips rocked, seeking something he refused to give me.
I was no longer a person.
I was a beast.
“Come here.” He moved backward until his legs hit the white couch. “Prove just how willing you are, Eleanor Grace. Before I deliver your final lesson.”
Lesson.
What lesson?
I tossed those questions out as irrelevant.
Crawling to him, tears welled and dripped down my cheeks, leaving a wet trail on the floor behind me. I cried for my humiliation. I cried for my pain. I cried with the knowledge that I wanted to kill this man, but if he so much as touched me, I would be his for eternity. I would sell my soul just for one plunge of his cock.
I would debase myself to the point of ruin if it meant he could take this nightmare away.
He sat slowly, watching me crawl to him. Unbuttoning his exquisite suit jacket, he winced as he positioned his erection so it didn’t wedge against the material of his trousers but aimed upright.
I caught a glimpse of the tip as he unfastened his belt and let the rest of himself poke out the top of his waistband. Shiny, broad head, oozing pre-cum, angry red flesh.
Just like I could no longer control my thoughts or system, I lost the ability to think in cohesive sentences.
A sledgehammer of sensation made me mute and dumb.
I wanted to go to him. To unzip him. Maul him. Sink deep, deep down on that impressive cock.
No!
I shook my head again, trying to scatter the insanity.
But it was so hard.
So insanely hard when I was beyond aroused.
Aroused didn’t come close to the jumping, jolting stimulation I suffered.
I was berserk with it. Disturbed and distraught and inflamed with lust, lust, lust.
Stop it!
Breathe!
Fight!
It’s just a drug.
It can’t control you.
But it could.
It did.
I cried harder, even as my hand drifted to my core.
“You’re stronger than I gave you credit for.” His voice was thicker, darker, full of sand and storms. “But I suggest you stop fighting and give in. The elixir can either grant you a night of unbelievable pleasure, or…it can bury you in the pits of despair. You don’t have a choice, Eleanor Grace. Your body is primed to come over and over and over again. Some goddesses can have upward of thirty orgasms in one session. There is nothing you can do about that fact. It’s just science, reprograming your nervous system to need sex as much as you need air.” He half-smiled, wicked and unrepentant. “Now, stand up. Come here.”
It took everything inside, but the sliver of promise that I might be freed from this torment hoisted me to my feet.
He cocked his head, looking at me from head to toe as I stood tear-smudged and wild with demoralizing moisture dripping down my legs. “You really have fallen far from your prim little pride, haven’t you?”
I didn’t reply.
I couldn’t.
I just let my body take over, swaying to the pulses inside my empty core. I fell a little deeper, sucking in a haggard inhale.
“That’s it. Let it take over.” His voice lowered to a rumble. “There’s no shame in reverting to what we all are beneath our lies.”
My insides clenched as my clit sparked with another release from his baritone alone.
He let me suffer in silence for a few seconds before he barked, “Come here and show me.” He snapped his fingers. “Show me that you’ve stopped fighting. Let me see what my guests will enjoy.”
My eyes flashed wide, struggling to comprehend.
When I didn’t move, he murmured, “Remove your underwear.”
In any normal situation, I’d tell him to fuck off. I’d spit in his face. I’d run the other way. I’d be reckless with my life, all because propriety said it was better to die trying to escape than protect your existence by obeying.
But…this wasn’t a normal situation.
I’d fallen far, far from normal.
I had no free will anymore—a slave entirely to my libido.
I was his puppet. I was anyone’s puppet who promised satisfaction.
And so, I hooked my fingers in the elastic of the white, drenched underwear and pulled them down. The grey jumper whispered against my skin, touching my breasts, my belly, my butt.
I shuddered as cool air licked around my over-sensitive flesh. Another full-body clench hinted that in another few minutes, the substance inside me would’ve taken over so completely, I would be able to come from no stimulation at all.
“Pull up your clothing.” He shifted his hips, the tip of his cock blatantly obvious, imprisoned against his stomach. His suit jacket splayed on either side, framing his mirroring greed.
I winced as my fingernails caught my thighs, pulling the heavy hem of the baggy jumper up and up.
I revealed myself to him.
I stood there, baring my pussy, letting him stare at the tidily shaved part of me that only two boys had ever seen, and I felt no self-consciousness. No shame. No anything.
I only felt heavy and hungry and swept up in the heat of it all.
I liked him staring.
His eyes made my clit pound and tiny fissu
res of release coil in my belly. I didn’t care about right or wrong. I only cared about how he made me feel.
And fuck…I felt high.
I’d never been so drunk on sex in my entire life.
“I’m going to charge double for you, my dangerous Jinx.”
I blinked, narrowing my eyes against the strange address. But he could call me whatever he damn well wanted if he had the antidote to my disease.
Shifting again, he unzipped his trousers and shoved down his black boxer-briefs. The angry veins of his cock pulsed with a similar relentless pursuit to come.
God, he’d fill every inch of me. He’d pulverize me. His thrusts would splinter me apart, fragmentize every thought, and demolish any memory of who I’d been.
But he didn’t invite me to replace his hand. He just kept staring, stroking himself with white-knuckled starvation.
Exquisitely slowly, he placed his other hand upright on the arm of the white couch. His fingers splayed upward like blades.
I licked my lips.
My belly flipped.
“Come closer.” His voice no longer resembled anything human. We’d both left that realm for dark, dripping places.
I obeyed without question.
I had no more questions. No more guilt or worry. I only had lust and pain.
Pain!
Please…help me.
“You’ve shown me yours, and I’ve shown you mine.” His gaze tore from my pussy, then landed on his upturned hand. “Now sit.”
I didn’t need any other commandments.
I wouldn’t play coy and ask what he meant.
I couldn’t play stupid and blush and deflect like any normal girl in this nightmarish situation.
I merely moved forward, positioned myself over his hand, then sank, of my own desperate volition, onto two of his upturned fingers.
Chapter Ten
THE SECOND HER HEAT sank and sucked my fingers inside her, she detonated.
She jerked and screamed, her hands clutching at my forearm, her legs spread over the arm of the couch, her hips rocking wildly on my hand.
My wrist fucking hurt with her full weight. She ground deeper onto my fingers as ripples of release squeezed her, over and over again.
Once a Myth (Goddess Isles Book 1) Page 8