“I wanted YOU. If you hadn’t left, I’d have never taken her. I wouldn’t have needed anyone else!” Marcus was blaming her. He was actually fucking blaming her for his sick obsession?
“I can’t believe this...” Thalia’s head hurt with the effort of trying to think clearly through the adrenaline. The INTERPOL thing had actually worked? Anthony was in jail? Some poor girl Marcus had taken had been saved?
“I’m going to find out who fucking talked, and I’m going to kill them. I’m glad Anthony is out of my way though, he would have never approved of me getting you back, but no one attacks me, no one comes after me and survives it.” Marcus was pulling at his hair as his eyes jumped around the room, “But you’re mine now. You’re mine, and I know how to stay hidden. No one is going to find you. James isn’t going to find you. You need to accept that.”
Thalia covered her ears, her chest aching with the weight of his words. He was insane, and he’d never let her go. He would either break her, or kill her, those were the only outcomes of this – and she wasn’t sure which one she was hoping for. “Please, just stop.”
“You know, I would have kept you. We could have been together this whole time, and you wouldn’t have to be relearning the rules.” Marcus sounded concerned for her, like he didn’t want to hurt her. But it was fake, all of the nice shit was fake. He was a monster, just like Anthony, only brutal in different ways.
“Do you seriously not feel any guilt over the things you’ve done? Over the things you’ve both done?” Thalia didn’t know why she’d asked it. It was stupid to taunt him. Marcus grabbed her arm tight, digging his fingers in.
“Anthony and I are very different.” He actually sounded like he believed that. “And the police are using all of Anthony’s files anyway to find our girls, since you’re so concerned. And I’ve been keeping tabs, and they even found Beth. She’s catatonic in some German hospital, but she’s alive.”
Alive. How many others had been found because of James’ gift?
“But I don’t give a shit about any of those sluts. Just you. I just want you.” His fingers dug sharper into her skin. She tried to ignore the pinch of his grip, tried to stay focused on what he was saying. She and James had agreed after they sent everything anonymously to INTERPOL that they were done focusing on Marcus and Anthony. They’d taken enough of their time together, and so they had trusted the system. Left it alone. Not followed up. They should have at least made sure both of them were in jail. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, but, apparently, they had still done some good.
“So, the police are rescuing them?” Her voice sounded hollow. Even as her own future became bleak, and dark, and hopeless – there was a light and she focused on it. Her and James’ actions had maybe saved some of them.
“Rescuing?” Marcus laughed and crouched in front of her. “Thalia, you still don’t get it. They’re all sluts like you. They need this. You act as if you don’t like this... but you do.” He slid his hand between her legs and she whimpered and wrapped her hand around his wrist wishing she could push him away without him hurting her. He wrenched her hand off him and thrust two fingers inside her hard. She cried out, her nails digging into her palms.
“No, please...” She was wet and she hated that he did this to her. His touch was rough, and she winced as he fingered her, but her body responded. She hated herself. Before she could focus on what was wrong with her, his other hand was already pulling her up by her hair. His fingers slid from her and he held them out like evidence.
“You’re already getting wet. Look at that, Thalia, you already want me again. I bet if I spanked you for all the times you’ve spoken out of turn you’d come like the little cock slut you are while across my lap.” He moved her to the bed and forced her to sit, pressing her back so he could return to thrusting his fingers inside her. Leaning over her to watch her skin flush as she responded.
“Not again. Please? Please, just stop,” she swallowed against the lump in her throat as she forced out the last word, “Master.”
“No. You like this, Thalia, I just have to keep reminding you. It’s called conditioning, and you need it.” Marcus pressed his lips to hers, and she tensed. He laughed softly when she didn’t return it, “You know that traitorous slut Kaia wanted to stay with me. You remember her, don’t you? She begged me at her party to keep her. Even after Thomas talked to her. She wanted this, what I’m offering you, she wanted to stay with me.” His fingers curved and stroked the bundle of nerves deep inside her that made her hips jerk in involuntary response.
“I don’t want this!” Thalia pleaded, pushing back the rising heat inside her.
“Just shut up and accept what your body is telling you. James turned your mind against me. Just like Thomas turned Kaia against me, and now they’re both off happily testifying against my brother. Telling stories about me too, about how Thomas saved her.” He growled, and her hips lifted against his touch and she hated herself for it, forcing them back to the bed as he rolled his thumb against her clit. “What Thomas doesn’t know is that Kaia would be just as wet for me, she’d crawl to me on her knees if I told her to. She’s been wanting the chance to be with me, to be mine again, for years.”
“Then why not take KAIA?! Why not take Kaia and leave me alone?!” She screamed, her voice bordering on hysterical. Instant guilt at trying to sacrifice Kaia filled her. Marcus tightened his fist in her hair and angled her head back, and she hissed through her teeth at the strain. Digging her heels into the bed as she tried to push away from his touch.
“Because I want you, and you are meant to be mine. That cockslut isn’t worthy of me.” He removed his hands from her and began unbuttoning his pants. “Spread your legs, Thalia.”
“No. No, please, please don’t.” She whimpered and pressed her knees together firmly, her fists clenched in the sheet.
“Spread them, now.” He grabbed her legs behind the knees and jerked her down the bed, laying her out. His fingers pried her thighs apart, and he spoke, “Farther.”
Her legs eased apart more and she stared up at the ceiling. She was shocked when she suddenly felt his mouth on her, his tongue finding her core quickly, and her body’s instant liquid heat was a terrible betrayal. Thalia covered her eyes with her arm, keeping her other hand in the sheets as she fought to ignore the pleasure of his mouth on her. His tongue delved between her lips, slowly and patiently, until he sucked her clit and she had to grit her teeth against the moan in her throat.
“Jesus, Thalia. You always respond for me. Do you see? This is what I mean.” His tongue swiped her again and she silently cursed her body, cursed biology, cursed Marcus for her reactions. “If you would just accept this, we could be perfect together.” His tongue licked at her lazily, thrumming constant pleasure through her while still keeping her miles from orgasm. It was like a promise of what he could give her. He suddenly bit down on her clit and she screamed, tears bursting from her eyes as pain shocked her system. “But - if you keep fighting me, I can and will do horrible things to you. And Katherine. Anthony isn’t the only one with skills in that department. Understand?”
Thalia nodded, fear settling in her stomach as his tongue gently laved over her clit, soothing the sharp pain he had caused. She made herself stare at the ceiling so she couldn’t see his dark hair between her thighs, his cold, blue-gray eyes watching her body flush and writhe for him as he increased the pleasure. He pinched her thigh sharply and she cried out.
“Say that you understand, Thalia.”
“Yes, Master. I understand.” She could hear in her voice that she was close to breaking down. He groaned and slid up her body, his hips pushing between her thighs.
“Say that you’re mine.” Marcus held himself above her, his cock brushing against her core. Thalia bit her lip, not wanting to say those words. Flashbacks of the last time he’d demanded it ringing inside her head. She just wanted James, she wanted her boyfriend, she wanted her Dom. She wanted the man she chose again and again. She didn’t want Marcus
.
“Please don’t make me.” Thalia pleaded. His cock pressed forward, her pussy already wet and waiting - traitor, her body was a traitor. He laid a hand over her throat, squeezing with the hint of a threat as she whimpered.
“Say that you’re mine, or fight me again and see what happens.” His eyes were full of the kind of intense fervor usually reserved for the insane. Well, actually, Marcus was insane, and he had chosen her to focus on.
Lucky her.
The fear of what he might do if she refused again, of the ways he might act like Anthony, of the things he might do to Katherine to punish her, dissolved her will like flash paper. “I’m...” she mumbled, “I’m yours.”
“Yes. You are.” He thrust forward sharply and she couldn’t cut off the moan that slipped out as he filled her.
Traitor.
She turned her head to the side, looking away so she could try and ignore the way Marcus breathed against her skin, but she couldn’t escape herself. Her chest ached with the weight of her betrayal to James. She could be brave like Beth, refuse to obey him and let him do his worst. But Beth hadn’t been responsible for someone else, and Thalia couldn’t handle listening to Katherine scream again. So, she sent her mind elsewhere, ignoring the pleasure even as her body responded automatically, shutting out the sounds that slipped from her lips, and the words he hissed against her ear.
When he finished she knew he was waiting for her to yell at him. His weight pressed her into the bed as their harsh breaths mingled in the air, but she didn’t have the energy to scream at him, to take his belt again, to listen to him punish Katherine for her transgressions. His lips brushed across her collarbone, and his hand traced her waist to her hip as he slid from her. Thalia bit her lip and forced her hands to stay at her sides as he sat up between her legs.
“It’s better when you don’t fight, right?” His eyes moved down her body, and then back up to her face. Thalia turned away.
Yes.
“No.” She spoke quietly, but he growled and climbed off the bed, tucking himself away.
“You can’t lie to me.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a length of fabric. She winced, prepared for him to tie her already bruised wrists back to the bed, but he didn’t. “Get up.”
“What?” Thalia felt herself receding, pulling back from reality. Removing herself from the reality where Marcus had her again, where she was submitting to him again, where she called him Master. The reality where he’d just fucked her again. He grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet, and she swayed against him.
“I’m taking you to the bathroom, and for a shower.” Marcus placed the fabric over her eyes and tied it behind her head, his fingers adjusting it so she couldn’t see. He twisted one of her arms behind her back and started to push her out of the room. Her bare feet padded across endless concrete and she could hear that the space around her was huge. She strained to listen for Katherine, but she heard nothing. She wanted to call out for her, but there was nothing to say, no comfort to provide her. So she kept her mouth shut.
He pushed her backwards until she sat on a toilet, and she heard him walk away into the large space. She was tempted to raise the blindfold but she had no idea if he could see her, so she didn’t risk it. She let go, the relief of emptying her body letting her ignore the possibility of him watching her. Not like it mattered, not now. A moment later he handed her toilet paper and she winced as she knew for sure that he had watched her. The toilet flushed and he pulled her back up and moved her forward again. The metallic sound of a curtain being drawn back assaulted her and then she felt tile under her feet. Cold water hit her and she screeched and tried to back away from the stream. “Stop it, Thalia, don’t make me handcuff you again.”
She nodded and shivered under the freezing water, the blindfold getting soaked as he washed her. The scent of simple soap filling her nose, his fingers dipping inside her, which made her hiss between her teeth. She was sore, her back ached from the belt, and her throat felt bruised each time she swallowed. The cold water numbed her skin, easing all the aches and pains, but it left her teeth chattering. Once he was done washing her, he pushed her out of the stream against a cold tile wall.
“Stand here.” He commanded. She shivered in the cool air, her teeth clacking together as he washed himself, the splash of the water against the tile echoing in her ears. Wherever he had her, the heat clearly didn’t work, and it was fucking February. A few moments later, the scent of plain soap returned, the splash of the shower, and then he turned off the water. He dried her off first, and she wanted to hold the towel to her skin, but he took it back. She tried her best to wring out her hair, but it was still dripping when he stopped her. Then his hand gripped her arm again and he took her back to the room.
“Don’t you have something to say, Thalia?” His voice was against her ear as the door shut behind him.
Her mind was somewhere else, anywhere else but here, and she didn’t want to talk to him. “No.”
Marcus pulled her head back by her damp hair, “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘Thank you, Master’. Why don’t you try it?”
For what? She wanted to spit in his face.
Instead she mumbled, “Thank you, Master.” He turned her in his arms and kissed her. Thalia whimpered, but he didn’t stop until she opened her mouth to his. His arms held her tight to him and she felt panic rising up inside her that he’d hurt her again. But he didn’t.
He finally left and took the blindfold with him. Her chest ached with a stifled sob, and she tried not to think about James. She tried to focus on Katherine. If she kept his attention, he wouldn’t hurt Katherine. It was all about keeping her safe.
On the floor by the door were two wrapped protein bars, and she grabbed them. Immediately tearing into one to silence the gnawing hunger in her stomach. The bed only had a thin set of sheets but she crawled into it, trying to stifle the shivering from the cold air and her wet hair. The strange room she was in was slightly warmer than the vast open space she had been in, but still freezing. She tucked the second bar between the mattress and the frame and urged herself to sleep, to escape.
And she tried really hard not to think about James, about what he was doing, about how worried he must be.
She wished she could stop thinking at all.
Thalia.
Thalia was there. Really there this time. Not a dream, or a memory, or a drunken hallucination.
In the two days he’d had her, only one of which she’d been really conscious, he had tasted her, fucked her, made her come underneath him. She was coming around already. Already calling him Master again.
He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He had wanted their reunion to be easy. To be good. For her to remember how good it had been between them before Anthony and James ruined everything. His fists clenched as the idea of James’ hands on her for almost a year drove him to the edge. He wanted to punish her for leaving him, for letting that rich asshole touch her. For putting an ocean between them that he couldn’t cross without a lot of unwanted questions from authorities. He wanted to spank her for every smile she’d given James, every flirtatious look captured on camera. He wanted her to suffer like he had suffered.
No.
Marcus grabbed his head and leaned forward over his legs. “No, no, no.” He groaned and ripped at his hair. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted her to look at him like that. His eyes tracked to his favorite picture, so many times folded, the edges torn. That look. The look of her really wanting someone.
He wanted that.
As much as he reveled in her kneeling at his feet, crying and looking up at him in submission. He still wanted her to look at him with longing.
The way he looked at her.
Like that was so much to ask? After he’d plucked her from the obscurity of a miserable desk job that she hated? After he’d taken her away from all of those wandering eyes, those pointed comments, those whispered urges from her coworkers in the lobby to be the one to bang her?
He had saved her. He had saved her from that terrible, boring life – and he had shown her what she was capable of. He had shown her she was capable of so much more.
Him. He had done that. Not James. Not Anthony. No one else. He had delivered her into this new life that she claimed to love so much, and she couldn’t even say thank you without fire in her eyes?
God, he loved and hated that fire. That incredible strength inside her. He wanted to subjugate it. He wanted her to be his completely. Mind, body, and soul. He wanted to restrain all of that fierceness in her and turn it into passion. For him. He wanted her to need him as badly as he needed her.
He needed the upper hand.
A whimper crackled out of the speaker on the table he’d set up. A rustle of sheets. A chatter of teeth.
Fuck. He should have dried her off more. Should have given her a blanket. It was February. In Pennsylvania. In an old warehouse. She had to be freezing with her hair still wet. But he hadn’t bought a hair dryer. All of his fucking planning and he’d forgotten a god damned hair dryer. Well, actually, he’d had less than a week to plan this fucking location. Her sudden trip to the states had been a happy accident, and saved him the cost of the people he was going to hire to bring her to him from London. And saved him the trouble of dispensing with them like he had with that first fucking PI, or the idiot who had agreed to help him grab her now.
Salvaged by Love (Thalia Book 3) (The Thalia Series) Page 19