With a sudden, hard thrust, he was inside her, his hugeness filling her up. She fought for breath as the air caught in her lungs, her nails digging into his back, her fingers clutching in a spasm of shock at his entry.
Arching her neck, gasping, she felt him bite the tender space between her shoulder and neck, then immediately ease the sting with his tongue.
He pulled out, a long, slow slide she felt with every fiber of her being, a sensation that made her too weak to breathe. And before she could recover from the withdrawal, he slammed into her, pushing everything else from her mind. There was only this man, this moment.
He gazed down at her, and she couldn’t, didn’t want to, look away. Lips parted, eyes nearly black with heat, he stared at her as he fucked her. Faster and harder, until she wasn’t sure where he stopped and she began.
“Am I making you feel it?” he said, his voice gravelly and low.
“Oh…oh yes.”
Breathing hard, she pulled his face to hers, close to coming and wanting his mouth joined with hers when she did.
His lips moved on hers, his tongue caressing. His cock plunged inside her, carrying her closer and closer to the edge. Suddenly the pressure became unbearable and sensation, raw and harsh, exploded within her. She jerked her mouth from his and screamed, sliding her fingers through the hot sweat on his skin as she climaxed.
Her orgasm seemed unending, and as it began to ease, he thrust into her with the smooth power and speed of a wild animal, and she came again and again.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, half of her screaming, Enough! and the other half afraid he’d stop. His flesh pounded against hers, his hard cock sinking into the very depths of her, each plunge building within her the heat of sheer, nearly unbearable pleasure. She watched as he lost his strong control, the arousal on his face sending her, once more, over the edge.
His face flushing, he groaned and sank down upon her, his mouth soft against her throat. “Sarah,” he murmured. “What do you do to me?”
Everything I can, darling. Everything I can. She waited for her breathing to slow, for her heart to ease its hard, fast beating. Too tired to talk, she patted him weakly on the back. She lay like a slug as she recuperated, welcoming his heavy, warm body against hers.
He shifted with a moan and pulled his still-half-hard penis from her. He lifted her easily, turning her to her side. With his front curled protectively around her back and his muscled arm wrapped around her, he slept.
His right hand cupped her left breast, his breath softly stirring her hair. Nothing had ever felt more perfect.
She sighed once, her ribs rising beneath his hard arm. She’d enjoy it while it lasted. She would pretend—for a moment—that this was the way it was. She floated to sleep on clouds built of wishes and denial and wispy dreams of love.
When she awakened, he was gone.
She dragged herself from the crumpled sheets upon which he’d loved her, and stood under an icy-cold spray of water, hoping to numb her heart. The determination she’d started with had turned to mush, and no one would suffer more than she. Not that she didn’t deserve a bit of suffering. Still, she wasn’t the type to hurt herself if she could help it. Betraying Kai would hurt. Loving him would hurt even more.
She smiled as she ran the soapy washcloth between her legs, the tender soreness there reminding her of Kai and the heat between them. Just as quickly, her smile dropped, and she scrubbed up under the stream of water, forcing those thoughts away. She was cold. She was downright icy and would do whatever she had to do. She was that strong.
That was the truth.
But she didn’t have to like doing it.
Now she would prepare. At least Constantine would know she was there, that she was coming for him. She had a feeling, though, that it would do nothing to relieve his mind. He would worry for her.
She dragged a bag from the closet and packed it carefully. She would pack no clothes for herself, but she’d seen Constantine’s rags. Most likely his feet were bare, but there were no boots in her closet big enough to fit him.
Teddy had surprised her with a sewing kit. She lifted it down from the closet shelf and then grabbed a heavy-duty raincoat off its hanger. She’d make him some sorry shoes, and he’d have to make do until they could find him some real ones. But escaping the compound would be the tricky part.
Well, actually, springing Constantine was the tricky part. She blew a tired breath and went to work. With any luck, she and Constantine would be out of there in the next couple of weeks.
Chapter Fifteen
The guards grew accustomed to seeing her walk past the jail; one day she waved at them. The next day she called a cheery “hello!” And the next, she stopped to chat.
They were not about to turn away a pretty girl, these bored guards, and in a week, she had them panting like dogs, eager to do anything for her. Anything at all.
Except break her brother out of jail. She knew better than to try. They would have turned her over to Kai immediately. But even their fear of Kai couldn’t sway them when she coaxed them into the depths of the building for a little playtime, especially when she assured them Kai was away and wouldn’t return until morning.
She’d brought with her a bottle of wine. Before she’d left the house, she added to it every drop of the potion she’d stolen from Sampson. He had a cabinet where he stored his poisons and dried leaves and concoctions made from his private garden. His “poppy garden,” as the household healer referred to it.
She couldn’t feed it to them outside. Though it was the dead of night, anyone who happened by would be suspicious of two sleeping guards. But once inside, encouraged by her touches and promises of more, they laughed and drank her spiked wine. They groped her and kissed her and had her half undressed before finally, they dropped like hot stones, unconscious.
Kai would kill them. But she brushed away the thought as she would have a buzzing fly and lifted the ring of keys from one of the hapless, fallen guards. Jerking her top back over her unbound breasts, she went to find Constantine.
Her boots clattered upon the steps leading down into Constantine’s hell. She didn’t even have to pick the Barrows. Too bad. She liked to keep in practice.
Her stomach lurched, dinner surging on a tidal wave of nausea. Focus. Think only of Constantine.
The unsettling quiet and dim lighting did nothing to reassure her, but she couldn’t turn back. Wouldn’t turn back. She was afraid of Kai. Of how he would feel when he discovered her betrayal. Of how he would look when he found out her plan was to betray him from the start. When he thought that nothing with her had been real…
She stifled a groan and crept down the long hall, holding her breath. A couple of flickering lights added a surreal feel to the pen. She held the back of her hand to her nose. The close, heavy air and the stench of men imprisoned for so long wrapped around her like a wet, moldy blanket.
Eyes searching the darkness, she went slowly on. The corridor of horror seemed to go on forever. Somewhere near the end was Constantine.
The silence was too loud, too heavy. In it lurked screams and bad things, fear and torment. In it grew winding, grasping vines of wickedness, born from seeds of dark despair.
It beat at her, that darkness, pulling at her until she felt she was walking through tar, through quicksand. Imaginary voices shouted whispers at her to go back! Go back! But, barely breathing, she dug her nails into her stomach and walked on.
Nothing moved. No one moved or spoke or snored. No one kicked in his sleep or grunted or turned.
Something was wrong.
She reached Constantine’s cell and wrapped icy fingers around the filthy, sticky bars, trying to work up enough spit to speak.
“Constantine,” she hissed. “Con.”
A light down the hall spit and flickered, producing a buzzing that sounded like a five-ton bumblebee in the silence. She peered through the murky darkness into his cell, dreading waking the others in the cell with him, unwilling to w
ait any longer.
She fumbled with the key ring, which held only three keys. The first one she fitted into the lock didn’t work, but the second one did. With a squeaking clank, the door opened. “Constantine…”
They had to hurry. Impatience warred with fear, and her belly clenched, dizziness making an uneasy appearance. But then he moved, a dark shape disengaging from the shadows at the back of the cage.
“Come into my parlor,” Kai whispered and flicked a flashlight on.
She screamed, unable to help herself, and her legs weakened like overcooked noodles.
The entire jail came to life then—men screaming to mock her, beating tin plates against battered bars, stomping, clapping, yelling.
She put her hands over her ears and backed away, a trickle of blood itching down her chin. She’d bitten her lip, but in her overwhelming fear and the disorientation of the sudden noise, she barely felt it.
Slowly, so slowly, keeping the flashlight on the grinning mask of his face, he walked toward her. His eyes were black holes of the most fearsome rage she’d ever encountered.
“Kai,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please…”
“Shut up.”
“Constantine? Where’s my brother?”
“Erik, bring her brother.” Shining a helpful light, Kai lit up a path to Erik, who led a shackled and gagged Constantine.
His eyes were the direct opposite of Kai’s. In Constantine’s gaze was desolation, anguish, shame.
She wanted to run to him. “It’s not your fault, Brother. I had to try.”
Kai held her back as Erik pushed Constantine back into his cell. Erik yanked out the gag, and Constantine took a deep breath. “Sarah…”
Kai’s fingers bit into her upper arms, unforgiving and rigid in his rage. “Leave him shackled,” he snarled to Erik.
He pushed her roughly ahead of him, but only into the cell adjoining Constantine’s. Wrenching the key ring from her hand, he left her shocked and confused in the cell. She stood against the wall, her hands clasped, and fought to keep a scream from clawing its way out of her throat. He would leave her here?
“Kai?”
But he slammed the cell door shut and clicked off the flashlight. “Sweet dreams, baby.” In his voice, she heard the hurt and flinched from it.
Erik followed Kai down the hall but glanced back once at Constantine’s cell. “Are you sure we should leave him restrained?”
Kai didn’t answer, and Erik shrugged, but even through her horrified daze and frozen mind, Sarah sensed Erik was unhappy.
She stiffened her spine and turned to her brother. She reached through the bars that separated them, and put her hand against his grimy cheek.
“Brother.” She let her tears flow then, so glad to see him, so sorry she’d failed him. Heart breaking because she’d hurt Kai so. “Oh God, Con.”
He leaned his forehead against the bars. “Sarah, what have you done?” And he waited with the patience he’d always shown, while she sobbed out her sorrow and, finally, got herself under control. “What have you done, honey?” he asked again.
“I meant to save you. I escaped Sampson, and I meant to save you.”
“God, I wish you hadn’t—”
“You know I had to try.” The skin of his face was stretched tight, dry, and dirty, and she patted his cheek gently, tenderly, her happiness at seeing him tempered by the pain she was causing him now.
“I don’t want to see you die,” he told her, his voice quiet.
“We were so close to escaping.”
She sensed his smile. “No, Sarah. We really weren’t.”
“I had a bag, but I stashed it outside. It had food.”
“We’re fed okay.”
“You’re so skinny.”
He said nothing, but she felt his depression like a physical thing, nearly choked on the pain that rose from his skin like a noxious vapor. Finally, he whispered, “I’m so sorry. So sorry I failed and couldn’t get you away from Sampson. I was tormented, knowing what you were going through…”
She licked away the tears mixing with the blood from her chewed lip. “It’ll be all right, Constantine.” She took his hand. “And Sampson is in the past. He made me strong. So strong that, in the end, when his wife helped me to escape, I really don’t think he was all that interested in trying to get me back.” If her smile was merely a harsh distortion of the real thing, it didn’t matter. Con would understand. “It’ll be all right.”
Sure it would.
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t think Kai is a bad person, Brother.”
Constantine tilted his head to the side, a familiar movement that brought the sting of tears to her eyes. “Sarah. You’ve fallen for the man?”
“I…” She sipped her cup of water and looked away. “Eat your breakfast.”
They’d sat and talked through what was left of the night. Though their positions were precarious, she was too happy to see him to care.
The guards had released him from his chains when they brought breakfast, but Kai had yet to make an appearance. He’d be back. Maybe to inform her he was sending her back to Sampson, but still. He’d be back.
She could be grateful he’d put her in an empty cell. The men were four to a small cell and could barely move without bumping into one another. This was cause for some of them to take offense, and fights were pretty much constant. “It gives us something to do,” Constantine told her, grinning. His eyes, however, didn’t smile. They remained an icy green, full of haunted bleakness.
She stared at the floor. “I can never make up for what I’ve caused. Telling you that I’m truly sorry won’t help you, I know, but”—she looked up at him, her eyes swimming in a sea of regretful, guilt-filled tears—“I am so, so sorry. If I had it to do over again, I would never have asked you to…” She gestured, unable to even speak the words.
“Sarah. Don’t. It’s not your fault. It was my responsibility to keep you safe. I couldn’t even do that. Father would have been disappointed in me.”
“Don’t say that! Don’t even think it, Constantine.” Con’s and their father’s fates were uncomfortably similar. Father had been imprisoned by Sampson for plotting against him. Despite the pleadings of their mother, their father had been full of heat and vigor and determined to help take down Sampson.
All he’d managed to do was drag them all, especially Sarah, under the very, very interested regard of Commander Sampson, leader of the settlement into which they’d been born. Springland.
Father had been murdered in prison, and life as they knew it had crumbled into cold, unsympathetic ash.
It wasn’t Kai who finally showed up, but Erik. His glance at her was casual but thorough. It gave her some measure of hope. Kai had sent him to see after her. At least, that was what she told herself.
She grasped the bars, pleading. “I need to speak with Kai.”
He turned his face to her, but his gaze went to Constantine. “He doesn’t want to talk to you,” he told her, his gaze still on her brother.
Butterflies awakened in her stomach. Why was he watching Constantine? Surely, no matter how angry Kai was, he wouldn’t use her brother to hurt her. No, not Kai.
“Con,” one of his cell mates said, “your sister sure is pretty. Maybe we can talk the big man into letting her stay awhile.” The speaker was called Jimbo, and she’d learned already he was the prison’s mischievous one. His eyes carried an innocent, childlike quality that touched her, even as he proved himself a pain in the neck.
Constantine ignored him, staring back at Erik with cool eyes. Neither said anything for a moment; then Erik motioned at two of the guards who’d followed him down.
“Take him out.”
These were two new guards. Kai had probably gotten rid of the two Sarah had duped, and in a hurry. Or worse. She watched, her heart in the throat, as Constantine was pulled from the cell and his hands secured behind his back. His thinness worried her even as fear for his safety wrapped icy fingers
around her heart.
“Where are you taking him?”
Erik wrapped his big, rather freckled hand around Constantine’s upper arm. “Kai wants to see him.”
Her heart sank like a stone to the bottom of her stomach, where it lay bobbing in a sea of terror. “Why?”
Erik’s gaze might have been sympathetic, but he averted his eyes too quickly for her to tell. Ushering Constantine away, he ignored her yelled questions.
“Constantine!”
“Sarah, I’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”
She’d been worrying about him since the day he’d come quietly into the world, his eyes clear and bright. He’d studied those around him, in the weeks that followed, with an odd curiosity, as though they were strange, interesting bugs.
“Be careful.” Her whispered words wouldn’t have reached his ears, as Erik had already marched him from the floor. “God, Kai. Please, please don’t hurt him.”
“Aww, honey, don’t worry. He’ll be all right.”
Jimbo reached long, scarred hands through the bars toward her, but she went to sit dejectedly against the middle of the back wall. It was the only place she could avoid eager touches from men forced to live without, she assumed, the company of women.
Being near Constantine had made everything that happened bearable. Now that he wasn’t there to dilute the agony, it crashed over her with a crushing weight. Only the cold, predatory stares of desperate men kept the tears at bay. You didn’t show weakness to men like these. They’d eat her alive and leave stripped bones for Kai. Serve him right, too.
Her smile broke through the threatening tears when she caught herself imagining just such a thing happening, with Kai on his knees in regret, when he realized that by putting her in prison, he’d killed her. She was such a child sometimes.
A fight in the cell across the hall pulled her out of her own mind. She ran to the bars, but none of the other prisoners paid the slightest attention to the ruckus. They watched her, however.
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