by Raven Dark
Certain that he’s baiting me into asking for more torment, I remain silent.
“Come on. I want to hear it. I promise I won’t make you pay for it.”
I stare at him. He really does want to hear my answer.
I lift my chin high putting my face inches from his. “Spider, there are no words to describe the kind of lowlife you are, or how much I loathe the ground you walk on.”
His teeth flash in a wide, sexy grin.
“There’s my Little Wildcat.” He leans down again, his mouth almost touching mine. He doesn’t kiss me, but the heat of his lips teases like a caress. “Say that again.”
I hate that his approval of my defiance makes my heart grow a size bigger. “Let me go.”
“Not yet.” He draws back, crossing his arms. “Why are you being punished?”
I roll my head back. Really?
Everything in me wants to spit in his face again, but I know I can’t. I can hear it in his voice; if I don’t respond properly, he’ll take it to mean I haven’t learned my lesson and dream up a new hell for me.
“Because I tried to escape,” I say simply without looking at him.
He fists the top of my hair, tugging my head back. “I know you want to kill me right about now, but like it or not, you needed this as much as me.”
I stare. “What?”
“You heard me. You needed this.”
That doesn’t make sense. In what world would a man think anyone needed to be humiliated like this?
And yet, there’s a strange sated feeling settling over me, blossoming like some poisonous flower in my belly.
“You’re insane.”
His eyes dance. He presses slowly against me again. “Did watching them fuck get you hot?” His lips barely brush mine, toying with them.
The question digs into my soul, gouging deep. Bringing forth a world of shame that I’ve tried to tamp down.
I try to twist my head away, but he grabs my jaw, trapping my gaze with his. His eyes demand an answer, while the heat in them tells me he already knows.
“Yes,” I hiss between my teeth.
He hums in satisfaction. He pushes my feet apart. Two of his fingers slide between my legs, cupping my dripping sex. The moisture there coats his fingers. The sound that rumbles from him makes my whole body tinkle.
“Fuck. You’re soaked. If I fucked you right now, I bet you’d come so hard the whole damned world would hear you screaming my name.”
He’s probably right.
With agonizing slowness, he glides his fingers through my folds. Down, then back up, they circle my clit, teasing the wet, swollen nub. I grit my teeth to keep from groaning. My arms strain with the effort not to rub myself against him, the tension reawakening the ache in my limbs.
“Greedy little thief.” His other hand tightens on my jaw. His head swoops in and his mouth rakes mine. I try to close my mouth, and he pries it open with his, his tongue lapping at mine.
At last, he lifts his head and releases me. I toss my head in anger, but my sex screams for more of his touch.
Spider goes in behind me and unties my wrists, gripping my arms and easing them down to my sides slowly. Minimizing the painful impact of sudden movement after so long. He rubs them down, then stands in front of me again, freeing me of the rope and dropping it to the ground.
Then he scoops me up effortlessly into his arms.
The relief of not having to stand on my aching legs anymore is indescribable.
“I can walk myself,” I lie even as my arms drop around his neck and my hands grip his vest.
“Take it easy, woman.” He adjusts his grip under my knees and around my back. “If I let you walk right now, you’ll end up falling on your face.”
He heads back to the clubhouse. Snake and Dee are gone. I was so focused on what Spider was doing, I’d forgotten all about them, and didn’t notice them leaving.
Most of the partiers have either left or are passed out in their chairs and on the ground, some of them right on top of the women they were doing.
Spider steps right over Whistler, who’s snoring loudly.
“Shouldn’t someone be treating that man’s wrist?” I ask dazedly.
Spider grunts a laugh. “Axe and Tequila both tried. If the little shit doesn’t want to be treated, we’re not gonna force him.”
But I notice the delighted sparkle in his eyes.
“What?” He gives a lopsided smile and pushes through the back door. “The asswipe tried to put his hands on what’s mine. He deserves what he gets.”
Okay, why do I find it kind of adorable that he’s so possessive? I shouldn’t. The man just left me tied to a tree buck naked in front of more than two dozen men for hours. And he probably didn’t break Whistler’s wrist to protect me, but out of some twisted territorial need to own me.
On the way down the hall to his bedroom, I ask him something that’s been nagging at me since he caught me making a break for it.
“Spider, how did you know?
“What?”
“I mean, how did you know I was going to escape when and how I did?”
His eyes twinkle. “My bathroom window was open.”
I scrunch my brows. I know I didn’t do anything as stupid as leaving the window open when I checked it earlier that day, or through the night.
“When you close that window, you have to push it all the way shut until it clicks. You didn’t, and I never open it. I came out of the meeting and went to take a piss, and found it wasn’t clicked shut.”
I roll my eyes. “So that’s why it was so hot in the bedroom.”
“Uh-huh.”
Dear God, how stupid could I be?
“But then how did you know I was going to run to the exact spot I went to? Behind that tree?”
“I guessed. I figured if you were going to have to run across that yard knowing anyone could look out at any second and see you, you’d want to be able to hide and check that no one was following you. That’s the only place to hide. Plus, there are cameras all over this place. Rat has one looking right out at that tree.”
“What if you’d been wrong, though?”
“Then I would have had to chase you. Trust me, I’ve been working out since I was twelve. I’d have caught you before you got far.”
I don’t doubt that. The elders of His Holy Peace were sticklers for making sure we kept fit and exercised every day, but I haven’t done that in months, and we didn’t work out the way Spider obviously does. His entire body is covered in powerful muscles. He’d have run me down in seconds.
A minute later, we reach his room. Spider kicks his bedroom door shut with his foot and settles me across his bed.
I sit up. “Can I sleep somewhere else?”
“Where else do you expect to sleep?” He takes off his gun and sets it in the drawer of his nightstand, locks the drawer, and pockets the key.
“Somewhere where you aren’t?”
He snorts. “No.” He pushes me back down until I’m lying with my head on his pillows.
I sigh, but can’t help relaxing into the bed. “I don’t want to be in this bed with you.”
“Tough.” He turns me around so that I’m lying across the bed width-ways, seizes my ankle and tugs me across the mattress toward him.
He’s got that heavy-lidded, sleepy look again. In spite of all that he’s put me through, the ache between my legs resumes once more, heating up under his hungry gaze.
Maybe it’s because I’m too tired to care, or because my limbs ache too much to fight. Or maybe it’s because I’ve spent half the night in a constant state of arousal and the way he’s looking at me right now makes me feel drugged with unspent need. Whatever the case, I put up no resistance as he spreads my legs, then undoes his belt and pants with a few flicks of his wrists.
“After everything you just did, you expect me to have sex with you?”
Well, no physical resistance, anyway.
“Are you going to tell me you aren’t dying to fe
el my cock inside you?” Leaving his pants hanging low on his hips so that his manhood juts out hard as nails, he pushes my thighs open and slides his fingers through my still sopping folds.
So he’s going to drag me even further down into his world of sin and savagery.
Oh, who am I kidding? After the last two days, there really isn’t any further I can fall.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way to stop you,” I ask him miserably.
He traces my lips with the pad of his thumb, a slow, possessive caress. My traitorous mouth opens, and a growl escapes him as he watches my lips part. “You’re mine. I take what I want when I want it.”
“Figures.”
“Quit your bitching. You want this as badly as me. I can make you come anytime I want.”
“No, you can’t.”
“No? Let’s see, shall we?” Spider pauses, bending down so that his head is between my legs. He inhales. Holy heck, is he sniffing me?
“Spider, what are you—oh dear.” I draw the words out when his tongue runs over my center, gliding through the wetness.
I jerk on the bed, gasping. He can’t be doing what he just did. Shock and mortified horror shoot through me.
The pastors warned about the perils of vice and how wrong it is to have sex before marriage, but no one warned about this. That single lick of his tongue sends a shockwave of pleasure through me that’s beyond description.
Deeply embedded fear follows. When I try to push his head away, he grabs my wrists and pins them to the bed.
“Spider…”
“Shut your mouth.” The command ticks me off, but the way he says it, laced with such desire, intensifies the aching need for him that’s pulsing through me to the point of pain.
“But how can you just… Oh my…” While his hands easily trap my legs wide open, his tongue flicks again, and I bite my knuckles to keep from using the Lord’s name in vain.
“Fuck. I’m gonna lick you all over, Wildcat.” Two of his fingers slide into me, eliciting a moan.
Reaching down, I mean to push his head away, I really do, but when he runs the tip of his tongue right over my clit, my hand pushes through his hair instead. He does it again, and my fingers curl around his hair as I gasp in pleasure.
This is so wrong, but I don’t seem to have the willpower to stop him. Shame bites into me, and I try to shut my legs, but he pushes my thighs down, trapping them open with his arms, imprisoning my wrists with his hands.
His tongue lashes at my clit, teases my core, and then torments my clit again. With every treacherous lick, the need builds, threatening to tear down my walls and obliterate my resolve.
This man’s tongue is magic. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He licks the inside of my thigh, then the other, and I groan, wriggling under him, desperate.
“Tell me you want it,” he growls. “Tell me you want my tongue on your pussy.”
Oh, he isn’t going to make me say that.
“Say it, or I’ll make you eat my come and send you to bed without.”
I’d die if he did that again.
“I…I want it.” The words alone have my cheeks on fire.
His eyes trap mine. “Want what, Wildcat? Tell me what you want.” He licks each of my thighs again, perilously close to my needy core without touching.
“I want your mouth on me.”
His brow lifts as he clearly takes in how hard this is for me. I can see him working it out in his head.
“On your pussy. Tell me you want me to lick your pussy until you come.”
I lick my lips, tamping down the tide of shame that tries to drag me under. “I want you to… lick my pussy until I come.”
My cheeks grow even hotter, but having said it feels right somehow. It’s as if he’s tapping into some inner vixen, some part of me the Colony suppressed.
“Good girl. Was that so hard?”
He rewards me with a few long, slow licks. I moan, and then I’m tugging his head toward me. Spider growls in triumph and laps at my eager sex, devouring every drop of need.
My hips rock, rubbing against him. He speeds up his pace, and then that wicked tongue is everywhere. He’s stroking me over and over, and the tide rises and rises until my hips buck, and suddenly I don’t care.
I don’t care about propriety or the Colony, or what I’ve been taught. I don’t care that he’s a heathen from Hell. All I want his mouth, his tongue—Spider’s tongue—licking me into oblivion. I cry out in pleasure, gripping his hair and rubbing shamelessly against his face.
“Shit, yeah. Fuck my face, beautiful.” Spider moans, and the vibration against my sex makes me wetter. His tongue resumes its torment.
I let out a whimper.
His beard scrapes my thighs, taking me higher. Somehow, he hardens the pad of his tongue, and I gyrate wildly, gripping the end of the mattress behind my head so hard I’m surprised the quilt doesn’t tear.
“Ah…Spider!” His name fills my ears, and it’s my voice, but it’s barely recognizable. I come apart, the riptide sucking me under. Euphoria sweeps over me in a mind-blowing wave.
White lights slash across my vision. The tide hardly recedes before he crawls up my body and lies on top of me.
“For someone who wants to get away from me, you came really good for me just now.” He runs his tongue over my cheek. “All over my face. You’re a wild woman when you stop being such a fucking prude and let go.”
Indignation fuels my blood. “That wasn’t fair. I—”
His mouth devours mine, and the taste of my juices on his kiss rekindles the fire. I try to pull my face away, and his fingers seize my jaw. His mouth pries mine open, his tongue plundering.
When he lifts his head, I’m breathless, staring up at him helplessly.
His face is cold and hard, daring me to challenge him, tell him I don’t want him. To lie to him. The mercilessness in his eyes, the victory there, mocks me.
“Just because you made me…ride your face…doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”
Silent, he jerks my knees up to his hips. His shaft teases my core, and then he thrusts into me, a single, hard possessive stroke.
I whimper, and he does it again.
“So sweet.” He hums hungrily, swiveling his hips and pumping in and out, stroking every nerve. “You were made to take my cock whenever and however I want.”
My eyes close and my face turns to the side, humiliation at my own weakness for giving into him eating me alive.
“Look at me,” Spider growls.
I sob, feeling betrayed by my own body as much as him. For one stupid moment, I thought he was pleasing me, but he wasn’t. He had his head between my legs to prove that he could make my body respond to him.
I shake my head.
“Look at me.” His hands trap my face, his fingers on my cheeks and forehead, thumbs under my jaw. “Don’t even think about closing your eyes.” He licks away my tears and buries himself deeper inside me, reaching every part of me. “I want to watch your face while I fuck you. I want you to see what you do to me.”
I’m not sure I understand, but it doesn’t matter. He has me. I can’t do anything except lie there with him looking into my soul while he takes me, watching my spirit as it’s slowly corrupted and devoured by him.
Spider thrusts slowly but roughly in and out of me, each stroke obviously meant to remind me that I am his. That he is all there is, and I have no power here.
His roughness should hurt, but it doesn’t. My sex clenches around him, and the stretch feels amazing. Maybe it’s because I’m so wet, but the harder he pounds, the more I want him.
The muscles in his face flex every time he thrusts into me. There’s no compassion in him, no warmth. He’s the conqueror again, and I love it.
I grit my teeth and say nothing. Staring into the beast’s eyes, but giving nothing more. I try to shut my body down, but inevitably, my need intensifies until my hips rock, and then find his rhythm, beating in time with his.
Ne
ither of us says a word; the room fills with our breaths and our grunts and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. I grip the quilt under me, and he pounds faster.
And that’s when I understand why he wanted me looking at him while he took me. That’s when I see it in his eyes, the animal that’s feeding off of my humiliation, off of the pain of knowing that he’s slowly and utterly destroying me.
Good God, this is hot.
He speeds up his pace, and I ride with him, my hips bucking to meet his thrusts. The tide takes me then. Once more, the euphoria washes over me and I fly apart, head tossing back on a cry.
“Mmm. Yeah, that’s it. Come nice and hard for me.” Spider bites my ear hard, and I cry out, thrashing wildly under another wave. Then he hammers into me three more times, growls in release, and spills into me.
“See?” His voice is laced with mocking satisfaction in my ear. “Told you. I can make you come whenever the fuck I want.”
And that’s when the indelible truth sinks in. He really does own me.
Like it or not, he has me wholly and completely, and unless he kills me, I’m never, ever getting away from him.
14
Trust
A week after the night of the party, I finish cleaning up the last room in the clubhouse and head back out to the barroom. I’d promised myself I’d ask him today. I can’t keep putting it off.
Spider’s sitting in front of the TV with Striker, Dragon, and a bunch of the other guys. As soon as I see him, my stomach squirms with unease.
After being with him for ten days, I shouldn’t be this nervous talking to him. But Spider has never been the most approachable man, and no matter how often I talk to him, I’m still a bundle of nerves. Besides, things never go well when I ask for anything. Every time I’ve gone to him for something, he’s found a way to make me wish I hadn’t asked.
As of the day Spider crashed through my life, I no longer work at The Devil’s Den or have a job of any kind. I help out serving drinks or cleaning here, but it’s not a job. Or at least Spider makes sure to keep it from feeling like one.
In the past week, he’s never let me leave the clubhouse once. Hardly anyone will speak to me here unless they have to. Dee and Monica aren’t the only ones giving me the cold shoulder. Tequila is the only one that doesn’t speak to me as if I’m pond scum.