I tried to clear my vision as I huffed against the blinding agony coursing through me.
The bastard didn’t fight fair.
Bruised and winded, with my balls in agony, I wiped at the sweat beading my brow.
My head pounded.
My chest heaved.
I brought my fists up, trying to block a flurry of Paul’s fists and feet. He launched himself at me, showing no signs of tiring.
He clocked me in the jaw, sucker-punched my gut, then followed up with a kick, which left me reeling.
“Give up already.” He danced around me. Agile and light, the man was a force of destruction.
I shot my right leg out to sweep his legs out from under him, but my movements were too slow.
He grabbed my foot and twisted. My leg rotated, and the rest of my body followed. I flew through the air and crashed to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of me.
Paul pounced.
He straddled me, fists flying as he pummeled my face. He pushed my hands away roughly when I tried to clock him in the jaw and easily held them by my ears.
“Give in, Forest,” he said with a shout. “You don’t have anything to prove, and you can’t win.”
The hell I did.
These matches were the only way I could fight back. They were my only outlet for the frustrated helplessness which invaded my world.
I hadn’t won a single match, but someday I would wipe the ground with one of Snowden’s men. I needed a victory. I needed something before I went insane.
I didn’t need Paul to best me.
He seized my arms, trapping them, and bent forward until his face hovered over mine.
Behind us, Snowden moved from his perch on the couch. He walked in a slow circle around us, assessing us, and drinking in my misery. He drew Sara with him, gripping her wrist and forcing her to watch me lose up close.
“I bet they fuck like they fight.” Snowden’s words carried across the chilly air, penetrating the fog of my thoughts. The bastard was enjoying this far too much. “What do you think, Miss Sara?”
I shut my eyes. I hated for her to see me this weak.
A stillness hung between Paul and me as his powerful legs straddled my hips. When he rocked forward, my dick gave a hungry twitch.
“Stop fighting me,” he growled at me. “Give in.”
“Fuck you.” I spat at him.
“Forest…” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re giving him exactly what he wants. Surrender, and I’ll make what comes next bearable.”
I was too weak to carry on. There was no way I could win, not in my current state.
If I’d been fresh…
If Snowden hadn’t beaten me unconscious in the basement…If I’d met Paul on equal terms...things might be different.
My entire body went limp as I surrendered.
“When you’re fucking me, remember that in a fair fight, you wouldn’t win.”
“Is that what you think?” Paul let up on my wrists.
“It’s what I know.”
The air crackled between us, sizzling with an electric charge which demanded an outlet. My dick betrayed me, horribly turned on by Paul’s strength and the dominance he displayed.
“I don’t have to beat you in a damn fight, rigged or otherwise. You want what I can give you, you ache for it, and if you ever decide to get out of your own damn way, I’ll prove it.”
“Fuck you.” A feral grin spread across my face. The cut in my lip split wider, and fresh blood spilled into my mouth.
Paul stilled, then suddenly movement erupted out of him.
He hit me with so much force every blow left me huffing in pain.
I supposed he needed to make a point.
But we both knew the truth. His victory was an empty one.
Not that he wouldn’t collect his damn reward.
“Well done.” Snowden clapped behind us. “I can’t wait to watch the two of you fuck.”
“Not here.” Paul ground out the words.
“Those are the rules, son,” Snowden spoke softly, hesitantly. “You beat him here; you take him here.”
“I’m not taking him when he’s hypothermic with a frigid dick. That is not what we agreed to.”
What agreement?
Paul shifted his weight, letting me breathe a little easier.
The cold ground seeped into me, a thief stealing the warmth of my body.
“I’m taking this inside.” His tone remained firm.
“If that’s what you want,” Snowden said.
“It is.”
“Fine.” Snowden snapped with irritation. “We’ll take this inside, but I will watch.”
“The first time,” Paul spoke with authority.
“You do like to test me, don’t you?”
“I’m taking what you promised.”
“Fine.” Snowden turned on his heels. He practically jerked Sara off her feet.
Paul hopped to his feet and held out his hand.
I refused to take it and stumbled back. Wiping my jaw, I took a minute to size him up.
“You have an agreement with Snowden?”
“I do.”
“And what is it, exactly?”
Paul cocked his head. He gestured toward the door Snowden and Sara had disappeared inside. “It’s best not to keep him waiting.”
“Fuck you.”
“Promises, promises.” Paul grabbed my arm. I tried to jerk it out of his grip, but he held me fast. “A word of warning and a promise.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t fight it.”
I spat in his face. “Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing?”
His hand shot out and wrapped around my throat. “Give him what he wants, and I promise to make this easy on you.”
“Easy on me?”
“Yes.” He gave a clipped nod and released my neck. His fingers splayed out over my chest. The heat from his palm sank into me, and I hated how I reacted.
The uncomfortable truth was I craved the violent sex Paul promised. It aroused me so deeply I didn’t care about the shame of wanting it.
“There is no easy in this godforsaken place.”
Despite the disturbing direction of my thoughts, I found myself believing in the potential swirling between us. It was in the way Paul looked not at me, but into the darkness shrouding my mind. He embraced it, hungered for it, and there was no judgment, only an acceptance of what was painfully obvious.
“True,” he said, “but I can make it more palatable. It doesn’t have to be forced.”
He had bested me physically, but his real victory was in what I would give him.
“Everything is forced.” My dick lengthened as it always did when he was near.
He could have slid his gaze down, making me feel ashamed of my arousal. Instead, he kept his eyes on me. Without words, he confessed this was more than sexual desire. He didn’t want just to fuck me; he wanted something more.
“You’re not ready to accept this, but I’ll make you a promise. Decide if that is enough to give me what I want.”
I didn’t see how I would give him anything.
I felt it. Damn if the desire to bend to his will didn’t surge in my blood. The electricity crackling between us needed to be answered, and it would be soon.
“And that would be?”
“I won’t fuck you until you ask me to.”
I barked a laugh. “Right, there’s one glaring problem with that.”
Paul arched a brow and waited for me to continue.
“The sick bastard in there is waiting for you to do just that.”
I was miserable and cold. My entire body ached from the punches Paul threw and the whips Snowden had laid into me earlier. Defeat filled me with aching desperation for it all to simply end.
Only it wouldn’t.
“Just get it over with.” I breathed out a sigh. “Everyone else has.”
His hand moved from my chest to my neck. He gripped the back of my n
eck and leaned in until his lips brushed over mine.
The moment our lips connected, a shock rippled through me. My heart seized as a delicious shiver slid beneath my skin. My mouth opened with a guttural groan as Paul swept his tongue inside. His grip tightened as he deepened the kiss.
I gasped as every muscle in my body clenched and trembled beneath the diabolical skill of a man who kissed with his soul. Every breath, every beat of my heart was swept away by my need for him. A throbbing intensity swelled between my legs as my dick responded.
Paul pressed closer. Our chests collided as he crushed his mouth against mine. Our hips pressed together, and our swollen cocks ground against each other.
Fucking amazing, his taste was familiar, even if we’d never kissed before. His scent flooded my nostrils and seeped deep into my lungs.
He released me.
The sudden absence of his heat made me stagger. Paul gripped my chin and forced me to look at him.
“I promise to make this as easy as I can. I won’t fuck you until you ask. Take it, Forest. It’s all I can give you. And when you trust me, we’ll finish that kiss.”
My head swam in a lusty haze as my heart banged inside my chest. I swiped at my lips and returned his stare.
“Fucking hell, what was that?”
“I’m brutal, aggressive, and violent. You crave the pain I need to inflict. In that, we’re evenly matched. Despite the thoughts swirling in your head, the need to refuse, you know I’m right. But I won’t take it from you.”
“And what about now? Isn’t that exactly what you’re going to do?” I huffed against the lusty thoughts his words revealed, confirming everything he just said. Paul was a man worthy of my consideration. He might be the one.
Hell, if he didn’t put my thoughts in a spin.
“I’m going to give him what he expects. And I’m going to give you a taste of what it means to submit to me.”
“Yes, now.”
Paul marched inside, leaving me alone in the courtyard without guards.
I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and followed Paul inside. There was something profoundly wrong with me because I wanted that taste.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Forest
I followed Paul into one of Snowden's many entertaining spaces. A row of couches surrounded an open area. Toward the back of the room, thick red velvet curtains covered the wall. He had settled into one of the couches with a full view of the center space. Sara joined him. She sat far to the side, as close to the edge of the sofa as she could get.
Where did she go when not in our rooms? My assumption was she and Paul were with Snowden, and while I ached to know what they did, I never asked.
My attention shifted back to the room.
I saw Snowden, and I saw Sara, but where was Paul?
Warm air spilled down from overhead heat registers. I welcomed the warmth and the tingling as sensation returned to my fingers and toes. Paul had been right about being hypothermic.
No wonder my arms seemed as if they had been moving through molasses. A grin turned up the corner of my mouth. Despite the handicap, I'd still gotten in a few good hits. I'd kind of enjoyed the fight.
Music turned on, a sultry beat, and Snowden leaned back with a sigh.
Becoming more and more attuned to the subtleties of his body language, I read much in that singular sound. Anticipatory, but not actively engaged, this show would be for his benefit. While he took pleasure in subjugating me during our mornings together, he was getting old and tired quickly.
I felt Paul before I saw him. My entire body took notice.
He emerged from the side of the room, flowing from darkness into the light. The play of shadows over his muscular form gave me pause as his brutal presence took center stage. Strong, confident, and assured of the outcome of this encounter, he prowled toward me.
My chest heaved from exertion, and my heart raced, although that was for another reason. Despite my fatigue, he captured my attention. His steady gaze swept over me, assessing, admiring, and hungering…for me.
Sex with men was an interesting thing. There was nothing gentle or soft about a man. It was all about brute force, a clashing of muscle, and a battle of wills that determined supremacy. Sometimes power was shared, an equal partnership where each man sought his release. Paul wasn't one of those who sought the common ground. He came to dominate, to overcome, and to assert his right to do as he pleased.
I took half a step back before I realized my foot had moved. It was rare for a man to affect me like this. I wasn't afraid, but wary of the war we would wage and more than excited by the outcome. Supremacy wasn't something I gave into another man's hands often. The few times I had, had been brief and disappointing encounters.
Snowden shifted on the couch, and the massive leather atrocity squeaked beneath his girth. This show was for his pleasure, not mine, and not Paul's. His need to control me filled me with disgust, but I allowed it.
I let Snowden take from me.
And he took.
With brutal savagery, he violated my body with a recklessness I might not survive.
Then he held me.
Rocked me.
Wrapped me in his arms as if we were lovers. As if I craved his twisted affection. The sick fuck was messed up in the head.
Then he did things like this.
He watched me fight other men. If they won, my body was the prize. If I won, I got to rest until the next time. I had yet to win. The more savage the fights, the better. The more brutal the fuck…well, Snowden craved his pain.
Frankly, I found it exhausting.
Paul took another step.
Half in shadow, half in light, he was the living personification of artistic perfection.
Every movement attested to his strength. His muscles bunched. His corded tendons flexed. He radiated hardness and pain.
And those eyes.
His eyes locked on me with a need to dominate, to fuck, and to claim.
Aroused and unashamed, he took another step toward me while I resisted the urge to run.
Or fall to my knees.
Failure to give Snowden a good show would result in the unconscionable.
The silent and ever-present reminder of the price of disobedience, Sara's presence bound me to surrender to Snowden's sick will and obey his commands.
I hated that Sara had to watch my humiliation.
But this was different.
I wanted this. I wanted to grapple with Paul.
To fuck him.
And to be fucked by him.
I wouldn't go to my knees willingly, but if he took me there, by God, I would fall for him. His wild nature called to me. His strength intoxicated me. This man had bested me on the mat, and that turned me the fuck on.
Anything he wants.
That's what Snowden decreed.
The winner could take anything he wanted, and I lost to Paul.
Eyes blown black with lust, Paul licked his lower lip as he sized me up. I could resist. I could struggle. I could fight. I saw it in his eyes, the need to dominate, and unlike most men, he had the strength to force it. He wouldn't. He made a promise. I would let this happen.
Another truth existed between us.
It simmered in his promise, communicated by a twitch of our eyes, the pulse of our breaths, and in the tiniest shifting of our weight. He moved forward on his lead foot while I leaned back.
He wanted to prove his will exceeded mine. Forced or not by Snowden's crazy rules, Paul meant to measure his mettle against mine.
Who would come out on top in that battle had yet to be decided.
The fight had been nothing but a farce.
He edged closer, taking his time, studying me as I waited for him in the center of the room. I would meet him, and I would let him fuck me. Those were foregone conclusions, determined by Snowden's commands. But Paul had made a promise.
What had yet to be determined was which of us would come out on top after our little exchange.
<
br /> Taller than most men, Paul stood a couple of inches shy of my towering height. He could almost look me straight in the eye.
Almost.
The way the man moved had me salivating. All sinew and muscle, his body flowed with lithe grace. He reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. I sucked in a sharp breath as his ripped torso was exposed to my greedy eyes.
That made him grin, and I cursed for revealing any interest. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but I would. I'd felt the solidness of his body, and mine responded. Blood raced to engorge my cock.
Snowden chuckled behind me. "That's it, my boy. You like Paul, don't you?"
My cruel captor had to touch me to get me hard. He used my body's natural reactions to force my cock to swell and rip reluctant orgasms from my body.
But Paul?
I reacted to Paul on an entirely different level.
Snowden's intrusion on what was happening between Paul and me did nothing to deflate my rapidly enlarging cock. If anything, blood rushed to the tissues faster. I was long, hard, and painfully aroused.
My greedy cock jerked.
It ached for Paul.
Paul's astute gaze cut to my crotch, then his focus shifted to my eyes. The corner of his mouth twisted with victory.
The bastard knew he had me.
Fuck him. I didn't care.
I wanted whatever happened between us. Whether that was a quick and mutually satisfying fuck, or something else, I simply didn't care. As long as he fucked me, I was good.
Snowden wanted to watch me submit to a man who had bested me. He got off on it. He got off on practically anything which forced me to do something I wouldn't normally do.
He knew my obedience came at the end of the threats he levied on Sara. At any time, I could overpower him and kill him. He knew this. It made him tentative, although cruel when he took me.
I never fought Snowden. I didn't struggle against him. I couldn't. The consequences for doing so were too extreme, and I did whatever it took to keep Sara safe from the deprivations of his men.
Whatever it took.
Beat me. Break me. Make me his.
I submitted to every single one of Snowden's demands.
But this was not one of my sessions with Snowden.
I turned my attention back to Paul, admiring his physique as I took a step back. Paul won the right to have me, but that didn't mean I would bow to him like I did Snowden. We still had a few things to work out between us.
Forest's Fall (Captive Hearts Book 3) Page 26