Tied: A Dark Possession Novel

by Linnea May

  “That is up to you, sir.”

  He huffs, shaking his head with a condescending smile.

  Then he reaches down to his belt—and my eyes follow his movements. He unbuckles it. He unzips his pants. My breath hikes. He’s already rock hard, so when he pulls down his pants and his briefs in one swift motion, his massive erection springs free right in front of my face.

  My lips part on instinct. It’s not a conscious response, and as soon as I notice, I feel a tide of shame washing over me.

  He chuckles darkly when I close my mouth.

  “Don’t try to hide it, Riley,” he hisses. “I know what a good little slut you are.”

  I suck in a sharp breath when he bows down to me, holding his steely length with one hand while the other reaches between my legs. I recoil at his touch, though it is anything but unpleasant. Embarrassment fuels my arousal when he glides between my wet folds, skillfully finding the magical spot that electrifies my entire core as soon as he touches it.

  I can’t suppress a moan leaving my lips as my head falls back, and I spread my legs even further, leaning into his caress while he massages my swollen clit.

  I thought it was the whipping that made me so insanely greedy for him. I thought it was that sweet, sweet afterglow that pulsated through my center after the leathery strings kissed my sensitive skin with such ferocity.

  Maybe it’s the memory that drives me. Maybe my mind is adding to the mental picture of what is going on right now.

  Or maybe he is just that good.

  “What a perfect little slut you are for me,” he growls, and the sound of his deep voice eggs me on even more. “You want to get fucked, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I rasp against my better judgment. “Yes, please. Please fuck me.”

  I don’t care that I’m begging again. I don’t care that he’s humiliating me just like he did last time.

  I don’t care. All I can think of is my yearning for him and the lust that I’d almost forgotten about. All I know is that I crave for him to be buried inside me. Now.

  My eyes are half-closed when I look up at him, repeating my pathetic pleas. “Fuck me, please, sir...”

  And when he edges closer, his massage around my sensitive nub turns almost unbearably delightful. When he places the tip of his cock at my entrance, I'm led to believe that he will grant my wish. I lean into his touch, my hips jutting forward, inviting him in while I relish the feeling of his skilled hands playing between my legs. I’m so close to coming, but I don’t want it to happen before he’s inside me—not again.

  I want to feel him inside me. I want to become one with him and feel his cock pulsating with me as I ride on my wave of joy.

  But he has other plans. Plans that are even more cruel than what he did to me the last time I was tied up like this.

  He withdraws, stroking his length above me while l glance up at him with pleading eyes. I mewl with disappointment when he removes his other hand from my center, leaving me unsatisfied and pathetically needy.

  He stands up straight, towering over me while continuing to stroke his rock hard cock viciously.

  “Please…” I murmur, ashamed at how desperate I sound.

  He shakes his head.

  “No. You don’t deserve to come.”

  I stare at him with wide eyes, refusing to believe what he just said. His dark gaze is locked on mine, his eyes narrowed, and his face is tense as he brings himself to a brutal climax. He groans loudly as his hot cum drips all over my body, only increasing the torment of not being allowed to orgasm. I join his exclamations of joy, sounding just the same, even though my cries are born out of agony and not pleasure.

  This is so much worse than what he did to me before.

  And, as it turns out, this is only the beginning.

  Chapter 8

  Cain

  She looks fucking perfect like this. Naked, bound, exposed—and covered in my cum.

  “Like a piece of art,” I comment, throwing her a condescending smile.

  Tears are filling her eyes as she glances up at me with such despair written all over her expression that I almost feel sorry for her.

  Almost.

  She deserves this. She ran away from me. She hid from me.

  Riley doesn’t deserve to come, and she sure as hell doesn’t get to wish for anything.

  “Clean me,” I command, stepping closer and bending my knees to bring my cock to her face.

  She regards me with an annoyed look, but compliantly parts her lips and sticks her tongue out like a good girl. I grow hard again the moment her lips wrap around my length, and I have to stop myself from not ramming my cock all the way back into her throat.

  She closes her eyes, her tongue tracing along the lower side of my shaft while she literally sucks on me, greedy to taste every last drop of cum.

  She’s driving me crazy. She always has, this fucking little minx.

  And she will pay for it.

  I tear myself away from her before I lose control and give in to her begging. There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than to fuck the living hell out of her—but this is not the time nor the place for that.

  I need to leave her wanting more. I need her to be in this constant state of arousal and fixated on me, only giving her bits and pieces as she tries all within her power to please me.

  The letdown is clearly visible on her face when I pull up my pants and take away her favorite toy.

  “You’re really not letting me come?” she implores, desperation lacing every word.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Then... what’s happening next? You’re just sending me home like this?”

  “I told you, you’re not going home tonight.”

  She presses her lips together, her lashes batting nervously.

  “I know, I know, and there is no job,” she retorts in a mocking tone. “Which, by the way, I’m still angry about. I had high hopes for this job, and I really need it. That was a mean trick to play on me!”

  She pouts now, looking like a stubborn little girl as she inclines her head to look up at me.

  She’s still not getting it.

  Riley still thinks this is a game.

  “I lied to you,” I disclose. “There is a job for you, but it’s not the one you applied for.”

  Her eyebrows jump and her eyes light up. “Oh? And what kind of job is it?”

  “We’ll get to that later. First, you’ll clean yourself and get settled.”

  “Get settled?” she queries, and a furrow emerges between her brows. “What do you mean?”

  “Like I said, you’re not going home tonight,” I say, bowing down to her and placing my face right in front of hers, supporting myself on the armrests next her spread legs. “You’re mine now.”

  She stares at me, still unable to process what I’m telling her.

  “This isn’t funny,” she whispers. “Tell me the truth, Cain.”

  I smirk at her. “I am telling the truth. You just don’t want to believe it.”

  “Red!” she blurts out. “Red, Cain. Not. Funny.”

  I laugh at her and shake my head. “A safe word won’t get you out of this. Sorry, little girl.”

  Riley looks downright shocked now. Her lower lip starts trembling, and a new tide of misery marks the expression on her face as she looks at me.

  “Red!” she repeats. She is almost yelling now, as I straighten up and take a step away from her. “Red, Cain! I’m serious!”

  “Stop that,” I warn her. “You’re not getting out of here. It’s time for you to understand that.”

  “Cain!” she shrieks as I turn away from her.

  She’s panting frantically as I slowly walk over to my desk and push a button on the intercom.

  “Kyle?”

  “Yes, boss,” his voice croaks from the little machine.

  “You can come and get her now.”

  “Got it.”

  Kyle’s response is almost drowned out by Riley’s harrowed cry
as she roars to life in protest.

  “Cain! What the fuck! Untie me!” she yells. “I don’t want him to see me like this! I need to get—”

  She stops abruptly when the door opens and Kyle walks in, closely followed by Jack. Neither of them bats an eye at the sight of Riley, naked and tied to the chair, her legs spread and her wet cunt on open display.

  She, however, completely loses it.

  “Cain!” she shrieks as the guys approach her, quickly lowering her legs and crossing them tightly in an attempt to protect herself. She yanks against the ties behind her back, but it’s futile. The knots don’t release until Jack steps behind the chair and loosens them.

  I can’t suppress the surge of jealousy racing through my veins as I keep my distance, watching while the guys free my little toy from her predicament. She bellows for mercy, tears of humiliation and fear streaming down her face as they manhandle her. As soon as Jack frees her hands, she crosses her arms in front of her chest, slouching her shoulders as she jumps up from the chair and tries to make a run for it. But Kyle’s hand closes around her upper arm so quickly that even I find myself impressed by his reflexes. Riley is yanked back with such vicious force that she almost falls backward onto the floor, her free arm flailing about.

  “No!” she cries out when Jack gets a hold of her arm before she can even think about hitting him.

  She recoils at the touch, disgust now blending with the horror that’s marking her expression as her eyes turn to me.

  “Cain!” she pleads now, her lips trembling as thick tears smear the heavy makeup all across her face in crumbly black lines. “What is going on? Why are you doing this—”

  “Shut up!” I roar, followed by a dismissive gesture toward Kyle. “Take her down.”

  “Down? Down where?!” Riley exclaims, her face turning back and forth between the guys as they drag her out of the room, butt naked and with my cum dappled across her perfect little body.

  I watch her fight in their grip, her feet dragging, her tight little ass clenching as she presses her feet into the ground in a futile attempt to hold them back. But the guys don’t even look at her until she changes her approach and starts kicking at their legs.

  “You fucking cunt!” Jack barks when her foot shoots against his lower leg. He pulls her closer, causing her to shout out in agony while he reaches for her leg.

  I can’t help but watch the scene with a dark smile on my face, torn between pride and pity for this girl. But when Jack manages to get a hold of her leg, grabbing her by the thigh and forcing her leg up, it hits me like an attack.

  He can’t touch her there.

  She is mine.

  “Riley!” I holler, taking a step forward. “You stop this nonsense now—or I’ll give them permission to do whatever is necessary to keep you in place.”

  All three of them freeze, but Riley is the only one looking back at me over her shoulder. Fear and humiliation now dominate the expression on her face, underlined with a heavy layer of reproach. She’s trembling, fighting back another surge of tears, while her captors calmly wait for my order.

  “But w—”

  “Shut up and do as you’re told,” I reprimand her, stepping closer with my index finger raised as a warning. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. Trust me.”

  Understanding flashes in her eyes. She doesn’t say a word, but lowers her head in defeat when she turns away from me, Kyle’s and Jack’s fists still tightly wrapped around her upper arm.

  “Go.”

  As soon as the word leaves my lips, the boys start moving again, tugging Riley with them.

  Her feeble sob is the last thing I hear before the door closes behind them.

  Chapter 9

  Riley

  They bring me downstairs. To the basement.

  I didn’t think this nightmare could get any worse. Me, tucked between two rough-looking thugs, who are about to do God knows what to me, completely naked, my body covered in Cain’s cum, and—worst of all—still suffused with my own arousal.

  But when they drag me across a weirdly bright corridor, approaching a door that leads down to a dark basement, I’m overcome with an all-new wave of dread.

  My instincts take over as I press my heels into the ground, my body leaning backward and a silent scream echoing through my insides.

  “N-no...,” I utter through clacking teeth, my eyes filled with terror.

  “Yes!” the guy to my left objects, adding an aching yank at my arm, while the one on the right stays quiet, but follows with the same motion.

  “No. No. No.” My words turn into nothing but a sobbed rhythm that loses all meaning, especially since they go unheeded.

  I’m sobbing helplessly as they lead me down the harrowing stairs, tormented by shame, disappointment, and a fear more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  My gaze is glued to the ground, following a blurred vision of white tiles passing beneath my feet as I’m being pulled forward.

  The floor is surprisingly warm beneath my naked feet, but I still don’t dare look up, too terrified of what I might find.

  “You should be grateful,” the guy to my right growls, while his clasp around my arm tightens.

  I don’t respond and refrain from even looking up at him. Grateful? He must be fucking kidding me.

  My silence obviously annoys him. He shakes me from the side, his strong fist now closing around my arm with such ferocity that the agony causes me to tear my head up and throw an angry glance at him.

  I’m met with a sinister smirk, and words that freeze the blood in my veins.

  “Such a delicious piece of meat you are,” he hisses, revealing an ugly gap between his front teeth. “If it wasn’t for your gracious savior up there, I’d be fucking you sideways right now.”

  “While she chokes on my dick,” the one on the left adds—and they erupt into a disgusting roar of laughter.

  I avert my eyes in disgust, returning to the only place that hosts some kind of comfort—the warm, clean floor beneath us.

  The men continue their abhorrent jokes about sharing me as they please, about fucking every part of me, about destroying me until there is nothing left. I try to drown them out and retreat to a safe place deep within me, but it’s no use. Their voices are too loud, the distractions too few, and I’m too alert due to the fright this situation has brought upon me.

  I can’t hide. I can’t withdraw myself from this reality. Even lowering my eyes like this is dangerous because I should be paying attention. I should look for escape routes, for any opportunity to get out of here, catch any negligence by these two...

  But by the time I act on this realization, it’s too late. When I lift my head, I find a closed door right in front of me. It’s white, just like everything else down here—the floor, the walls, the low ceiling. Everything is white, clinical, cold and uninviting.

  The guy on my right lets go of me and opens the door. I try to turn around to have a look at the corridor we just passed, but the guy who is holding my left arm pulls me back as soon as I move, quickly dragging me inside the room.

  A suppressed gasp escapes me when I’m pushed forward, my arms finally freed and flying about as I tumble forward on shaky legs. I catch myself just in time to turn around and see the door close behind me—with both of the men staying on the other side.

  I don’t know whether to be relieved or terrified at the thought of being alone, and for a few moments, I just stand there, my arms wrapped around my naked body while my eyes stay focused on the closed door.

  I jerk when the heavy lock is turned, answering the unspoken question of whether I’ll be able to get out of here.

  I hold my breath, trying to hear their steps wandering off into the distance, but the door seems to be soundproof. All I can hear is myself and my erratic breathing.

  I’m alone—and trapped. A nod finalizes these thoughts and I take a deep breath before I twirl around on the spot to gain an understanding of my cage. It’s a bedroom, not very bi
g, but surprisingly nice, considering that it’s a basement room. Just like in the hallway, everything in here is white, except for the queen-size bed in front of me, which features a black steel frame and silver silk sheets. It’s the only piece of furniture in here, and the amount of cushions and blankets on top of it surprises me. It looks comfortable and inviting—and that scares the fuck out of me.

  I spot a door next to the bed and my fear heightens when I find a bathroom behind it. It’s simple but nice, just like the bedroom, with golden fixtures and white tiles, a shower, a toilet and a vanity, including a large mirror with a golden frame.

  The shower draws me in right away, promising warming comfort and the opportunity to wash myself of his semen that is hardening on my skin. I block out the horrifying reality of my situation and step inside the shower, even sighing with deep relief as the hot water flows over me a moment later. There’s shampoo, body wash, conditioner—everything a girl could ask for.

  Everything, except clothes.

  I take my time, unwilling to leave the soothing heat of the shower cabin, but when I finally manage to pull myself away from it and step out, I find nothing but two towels—one large and one small—to wrap myself in. There’s a cabinet beneath the vanity with nothing in it, no closet in the bedroom, no wardrobe whatsoever.

  Shivering, I return to the bed, allowing myself to be comforted by the soft sheets as I hide beneath them, my body and hair still wet, but smelling of lavender and citrus fruit.

  And now?

  With nothing to keep myself busy, I’m tormented with fearful thoughts as I curl up under the heavy blankets, confronted with the images that I so successfully pushed aside for as long as there was something else going on around me—brutish men dragging me into the unknown while I couldn’t think of anything but my humiliation and fear, a room to explore, a shower to clean and soothe myself.

  But now there’s nothing to hold onto. Nothing but confusion, apprehension—and memories.

  Memories of Cain, and the man he was when we met for the very first time.

  Chapter 10