by Vonna Harper
Or something different maybe? Feeding a base hunger?
He stopped. One hand rested on her burning buttocks while the other went between her legs. She didn’t doubt what he was in search of, but couldn’t think how to stop him. No matter what she tried, his greater strength would declare him the winner.
He stroked her inner thighs. Slipped over sticky skin.
Moaning, she spread her legs. Her cheeks and throat burned. Her swollen breasts throbbed. Insisted on—what?
His fingers crawled up her until he reached her pussy lips. Holding the sensitive flesh between thumb and forefinger, he paused, shifted a little. Squeezed.
“Oh, don’t! You have—no right.”
A masculine finger entered her. Searched. Explored. Found.
“Don’t.”
“You’re soaked. Turned on.”
“No.” She barely got the word out.
“You want this.”
No. I don’t. I can’t.
“You’re going to regret letting me know.” He pushed deeper into her, his unyielding finger sliding along her hungry flesh.
“No, please.”
“Don’t lie to either of us.”
On the brink of insisting he didn’t know what he was talking about, she squeezed her eyes shut. He was buried in her. Had claimed her pussy—her everything.
After a moment during which she struggled to remember who she was, he started a pumping motion. She jerked and shuddered. Sweat ran over her.
“Stop. I can’t—stop.”
“Quiet! Experience.”
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open her eyes. Her mind wanted to remain in this place he ruled. He found a rhythm, took her with him. Bleating sounds escaped her raw throat.
“Don’t fight yourself.”
He plowed deeper then started to withdraw. Panicked by the thought of losing him, she tightened her inner muscles around the invasion.
Don’t do this, she warned herself. Fight him and yourself.
“Surrender.” He turned his hand so his finger pad touched a new, even more sensitive place. “Let it happen.”
She’d been warning herself not to let something happen but couldn’t recall what. How could she think when she was melting.
“I can’t…”
“Yes, you can.” He raked her left flank with his free hand. Once. Twice. Maybe more.
I hate you.
“This is easier than I thought it might be,” he said. “You’re primed. Hungry.”
“No. Damn you, no.”
He scraped her buttocks, the connection harsh. She felt the mix of pain and pleasure from breasts to knees.
“Stop, please.”
“Too late.”
Damn him, he was right! The sudden tightening of her pussy muscles served as warning that she’d gone beyond the point of no return. There was nothing to do but experience. The uncontrollable contractions kept going, easing up a little only to return at full force.
“Oh shit. Shit!”
Hearing herself climax, she dove into the powerful sensation. She stopped fighting her body. This moment of heated insanity was what being a woman was about. Crying, she repeatedly tightened her pussy muscles around Joe’s finger.
“Shit,” he muttered.
Maybe he said more than that single word but she wasn’t sure. He’d killed her. Either that or brought her to life.
“Oh, god,” she whimpered.
“Not him. Me. And I’m the devil.”
Long and loud. Destroyed.
Chapter 5
“Is that the reaction you wanted?” Korbin asked.
“I’m not sure,” Joe answered. “I didn’t expect her reaction to be so intense. Maybe I should have.”
“I thought she might go off. The question is what you intend to do about what you’ve learned.”
“I’d be a fool if I didn’t take advantage of her lack of inhibition, if that’s what it is.”
“But you’re thinking you might scramble her brains to the point that she’s useless to you if you go after her like that again.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t give me a maybe,” Korbin snapped. “I shouldn’t have to remind you of this, but I have a lot invested in what takes place between the two of you. I’m not just talking about money.”
“I know.” Joe stared out the window to where Wednesday was making an appearance. “I appreciate everything you’ve supplied me with. Your research about her is invaluable.”
“You’ve gone over everything we have on her? The file isn’t complete, but my staff hasn’t had a lot of time.”
Joe looked at the stack of papers that had been in the envelope Korbin had given him. “I’d be grateful for anything else you can pull up. I get the feeling she’s lucky she survived the motorcycle accident.”
“Unlike your brother.”
A moment ago Joe had been focused on the conversation he was having with one of California’s wealthiest men. Now he was thinking about Nate. Remembering his kid brother’s infectious grin and lust for life. Recalling the hellish afternoon he’d answered his phone and learned Nate was dead. It made him sick. Maybe it always would.
“You’re quiet,” Korbin said. “I pushed the wrong button?”
“I need it pushed.” Need to focus on the goal.
“I’m good at that. Did she mention the accident?”
“Not really. She has a scar on one forearm. I didn’t strip her so I don’t know if she has other scars.”
“My staff just came across a picture that was taken while she was in the hospital. I’m not sure you really give a damn, but I believe it says a lot about what she’s been through. Her mother too.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You had your finger inside her and wish it had been your cock.”
So? “She didn’t know shit about what happened to my brother.”
“And you’ve decided that’s good enough reason to hate her.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Korbin grunted. “I’m good at reading minds. I’m going to text you the picture I’m talking about. It might give you a clue why the two women are so committed to each other. Megara nearly lost her only child. She had to look at a body that needed a lot of healing. Lainey was dependent on her mother for everything from feeding her to taking her to physical therapy.”
I don’t want to hear this. “In other words it’s going to take a lot to get Lainey to turn on her mother.”
“If that’s the route you decide to go. That, in part, is why it’s so damn hard to bring down people like Ethan who are involved with the mafia. They’re into so many things. The membership, for lack of a better word, ranges from soldiers who have given their souls to protect the various enterprises to those who exist on the outer edges. Small time drug dealers. Illegal races with heavy gambling.”
Although he was well-versed in what Korbin had said, the words illegal races were what pushed Joe out of the silent living room and onto the front porch where ocean breezes kept the heat from being unbearable. He wouldn’t concern himself with the woman in the cage. This was about making Nate’s killer pay.
“A lot of why the mafia succeeds comes from making people dependent on what it offers.” Korbin grunted. “Never mind. I could write a book on its complexity. You could help me write it. I’d rather bring it down a chunk at a time.”
“I feel the same way.”
“No shit. Anyway, I think you need to understand how far Lainey and her mother have come from when they didn’t have Ethan in their lives. I wouldn’t be surprised if Megara would sooner sell her soul than turn on him. As for whether Lainey feels the same way—call me when you’re ready to discuss my theory.”
He didn’t want to talk about why Ethan wielded as much power as he did, Joe thought as he went inside for a beer. He’d look at the post-accident picture but it wouldn’t change anything. Lainey was alive. Nate wasn’t.
Lainey lay on
her side with her knees bent and a hand between her legs. Even though the mattress was reasonably comfortable, her ass burned too much to let her spend much time sitting. Her current position was easier to tolerate.
Plus it was easier to touch what needed to be touched this way.
Silently cursing Joe Risinger, she worked a forefinger under her panties’ low waistband and over her short pubic hairs. Her attention on the door to the all-purpose room, she slid her finger over her slick labia. More nights than she cared to admit had been spent pleasuring herself as she added layers to the erotic world her imagination created.
He’d spanked her yesterday. Left her with burning flesh and embarrassment because she’d climaxed in his presence.
It wouldn’t happen again.
Hopefully.
Her eyes resolutely open, she slid her finger into her pussy. She wasn’t doing this to herself, not in her mind. This time wasn’t about self-pleasure. Instead, her master had decided she deserved a reward. He’d told her to spread her legs and lie still. She wouldn’t know when he’d take charge of her sex, he’d warned. She had to wait, anticipate, not so much as whimper and certainly not beg. If she broke any of his rules, no matter how impossible they were to follow, he’d flip her onto her belly and teach her the consequences of not obeying.
But if she managed to keep from trembling in need, he’d finger-fuck her. He’d probably laugh at her animal-like sounds as she jerked and twisted on the bed. If she moved about too much, he’d tether her limbs so she was outstretched. He might pull a vibrator from the box where he kept their toys and press it against her pussy. One night he’d indulge her desperate need for release. Another he’d keep her on the brink of insanity for hours, ignoring her pleas.
This was one of those nights, Lainey told herself despite the danger. Master had caught her masturbating and decided she had no right touching what belonged to him. After restraining her by clipping her hands to the ring imbedded in her collar, he’d marched her to the sawhorse he’d forced her to build and ordered her to bend over it.
That’s where things stood at this moment. Her under his control. Helpless and wild. Begging. Promising. Cursing even. Giving him reason to take a switch to her bare ass.
“You’re going to be sorry,” he said. “Then happy.”
“Yes, master,” she answered, because the time to obey him in all things and ways had come.
A low cry filled her throat. Shocked by the unexpected sound, she stilled her finger but kept it in her hot, wet hole. Her cheeks were flushed, her nipples so hard they hurt.
The door opened and Joe Risinger, her captor, walked in. Desperate not to give herself away, she tugged down on her top so hopefully he couldn’t see what she’d been doing.
Yesterday he’d told her to crawl into the cage while her ass was still exposed. She hadn’t worked up the courage to pull her leggings into place for several hours. He’d given her a sandwich and a bottle of water then turned off the light. She’d dozed off and on until he brought her a breakfast bar. She’d asked what he intended to do to her, but he hadn’t said a word. Instead he’d retrieved the bottle and left.
There’d been too many hours and too much to think about.
“Stand,” he said.
Hearing a voice after so much silence threw her off-balance. She didn’t want it to be him of course, but at this point anything and anyone was better than her disjointed thoughts. She did as he ordered with her body half turned from him and wiped her fingers on her T-shirt.
“Come here.”
She didn’t have to. As large as the cage was, he’d have to enter it in order to get his hands on her. But he would and she’d pay the price.
“This isn’t fair,” she said when a few feet and too many bars separated them. “You hold the upper hand.”
“Not yet.” He unlocked the cage’s door and opened it. “Out.”
Head up and shoulders back, she did as he’d commanded. Either she’d forgotten how tall he was or she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge the dangerous difference between them. Whichever it was, she was acutely aware of the inequality.
His eyes narrowed in what she took to be concentration, he ran a forefinger through the ring in her necklace and pulled her, bent over a little, to the window. Warmth from the sun made her long for the real thing. As he’d proven when he’d thrust her into darkness last night, he controlled her world in every possible way.
Still holding onto the ring, he turned her head one way then the other. Next, he ran his hand into her hair, his fingers gliding over her scalp.
“I’m not a horse.” She tried to jerk free. “Stop treating me like one.”
“Open your mouth.”
“What? No.”
Keeping her in place, he explored her hairline. She winced when his finger settled on the long, thin scar there.
“You have perfect teeth.”
Now I do. “You saw the picture, didn’t you? What I looked like after the accident.”
“Yeah. It was a bad one.”
“Five years ago.” She didn’t intend to tell him more. “I’ve moved past that.”
“What about right after? Did you have nightmares? PTSD?”
More than she’d ever admit to him, especially him. She hated acknowledging how vulnerable just talking about what had nearly killed her made her feel.
“No,” she said. Not anymore.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. I don’t care.”
Her neck burned. Determined to put an end to the sensation, she grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into him. Instead of slapping her hand away, he tightened his hold and forced her to lean over until she was staring at the ground.
This man was an animal! Her muscles tightened until she couldn’t think about anything except putting an end to a battle she couldn’t win. She forced herself to relax.
“If you’re going to spank me, I suggest you get started. Otherwise you might not get anything else accomplished today.”
“You have guts. I have to give you that.”
Believing he hadn’t really given her a compliment, she focused on the sensation at the back of her neck. Most of the time the necklace didn’t dig into her. She’d come to think of it as comforting. Part of the world that only existed in her mind.
When he let go, it took a moment for her to realize she could stand upright. “Where are we? I can smell the ocean, but…”
“This isn’t my place.”
“I wondered. This close the Pacific, I’m sure only a handful of people can afford it.”
“I don’t fit that criteria?”
“Neither do I so don’t take it as a putdown.”
He chuckled, the deep-in-the-chest sound that kept getting to her. “The last thing I care about is the size of my bank account.” He sobered. “What about your stepfather? Is it in his budget?”
Like I’d tell you. “I can’t answer without knowing more about this place.”
“This is as far as you’re going.” He indicated the room and cage.
Chilled, she fought to keep her reaction private. “For how long?”
“That’s up to you. Over there.” He pointed at the recliner.
Instead of demanding he tell her whether he was setting her up for another spanking, she waited long enough to hopefully test his patience then stood in front of the chair.
“On your knees.”
No. “Why?”
“Because that’s where I want you.”
She belatedly noted he’d placed a small table next to the recliner. A stack of paper was on the table. Feeling disconnected from what her muscles were doing, she sank to her knees. The hard flooring compelled her to move about until she was slightly more comfortable.
Seemingly oblivious to what had to be her pained expression, he sat with his legs apart. She struggled not to acknowledge his crotch. At least he wasn’t aroused.
He picked up the papers and shuffled through them, finally selecting one. H
e held it up.
Her mother had taken the shot when she was in the hospital, more out of it than in. Her eyes were black, her broken nose swollen and upper lip split. She’d opened her mouth at her mother’s command, revealing spaces where no less than five teeth had been.
“How did you get your hands on this?” she demanded.
“It doesn’t matter. The question is, why does it exist? I can’t imagine you wanted to pose.”
“I didn’t.” Just talking about the accident had her remembering the sensations that had broken through the pain medication. She’d barely spoken back then, not just because she needed to hide from the horror and fear, but because it had hurt so much. “Mom took it.”
“Why?”
“For insurance purposes. She didn’t want the company saying I’d only been banged up a little.”
He turned the enlarged photograph toward him and studied it. The longer he did, the more his features hardened. Did he feel sorry for what she’d endured?
“How did that turn out?”
Keep talking. Make him sympathize. “It was my former boyfriend’s bike. The insurance was minimal and he and I were determined to be partially responsible.”
“Insurance companies love pulling that shit.”
“It could have been worse. At least insurance covered the cost of hospitalization and some physical therapy.”
“What about your missing teeth?”
He was getting too close to a subject she was determined to avoid, one that might lead to another emotional breakdown. “I got a partial after my mouth healed. Why are we talking about this?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“The hell I don’t.” She started to stand.
He planted his hand on the top of her head, forcing her back onto her knees. They burned, the discomfort radiating from hips to ankles. Doing strange things to her pussy.
“My mother’s going to worry. She won’t be satisfied with what you told her.” Earlier she’d convinced herself that Joe would buy her argument, but she was no longer sure. Being this close to him, to his cock, was why.
“Not my problem.”