Countered: A Dark Suspenseful Gothic Romance (The Rule of Lawes Series Book 2)

by Felicity Brandon

  Her gaze wandered around the training yard. Matthew and Zander had taken the other women out to the course, leaving her leashed for who knew what purpose. No doubt, her first and last attempt had been so dire, they didn’t know how to deal with her, and for some reason, heat blossomed in her cheeks at the thought. Even though she had zero desire to run the gauntlet they desired, the notion of having let them down still plagued her in the most peculiar way.

  I have to get out of here.

  The thought sprung into her mind as she watched Matthew’s crop stripe another vulnerable backside. It was hardly the first time she’d registered a yearning to leave. She had, after all, tried to escape on only her second day here, yet still, it resounded harder than usual as she shifted in the sawdust.

  This could not be her fate. There was no way she was spending her whole life leashed like an animal—like this. It didn’t matter how her traitorous body reacted anymore, Hannah had to ignore the perverted passions the place inspired. She had to get out.

  They all had to get out.

  Which meant April’s plan had to work.

  Her eyes fluttered shut as her thoughts turned back to April. They hadn’t had long to work on the plan—hell, they’d barely known each other a week—and it hadn’t been easy to scheme in the dark regime of this place. All communication had to be surreptitious and under the radar, and given how often they were gagged and monitored, that mainly meant exchanged whispers during the night. It was a risk. They’d had to be loud enough to work out the detail but not arouse suspicion. They were both all too aware what fate awaited the women who drew the attention of Lawes and Fuller when they wanted to sleep.

  But there were opportunities, and over the course of the days, April and Hannah took them, forming an alliance which had seemed so unlikely that first night she’d arrived, and April had called her out to Fuller. They’d exchanged ideas with Stacy and the others from their cages, and the concepts had sounded workable. If anyone could pull it off, April could. Sure, she had a reputation among the men, but they were still captivated by her. Hannah only had to see their responses to her behavior to know. Lawes particularly seemed transfixed by her raven beauty. It hadn’t taken much to convince him when April had mentioned the pain in her tooth, as though he, too, was keen to have the time alone with her. An unexpected surge of envy spiked in Hannah with that realization, and she sighed.

  She was not jealous of Lawes’ attraction to April.

  No fucking way.

  “Good morning, Hannah.”

  Fuller’s taunting tone floated down to the place she knelt, and Hannah lifted her chin.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  He hadn’t been present at breakfast when Zander and Matthew seemed to have control of the reins, yet here he was now, in all his glory.

  “Have you been a good girl?”

  Tension furled in her belly at the way he made that sound, the ever-present threat he represented, mingling with the frustrated arousal at her core—especially after yesterday’s torrid penance. It had seemed to take fucking hours for the burning to extinguish in her ass, and if she clenched hard enough, Hannah was sure she could still feel it.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His smile widened. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, let’s get you around this obstacle course today. We don’t want another failure, do we?”

  Hannah swallowed as a memory of the torturous ginger-covered butt plug swilled around her mind. She’d hated the damn thing, and she hated him too for inflicting it on her, yet even now, as she stared into his face, Hannah knew she hadn’t only hated it. Of course, she’d loathed the pain, the shock and consuming nature had been torment. Yet once it was lodged into position, there was a part of her that secretly relished the stinging which accompanied the fullness of the plug—a part of her which had almost reveled in it. Inhaling, she tried to think how best to answer the towering giant beside her. Hannah was reveling in the treatment she received, more and more.

  More than she should.

  More than anyone should.

  It just wasn’t right to garner pleasure from the acts they insisted upon, yet there it was—the brutal reality. She had enjoyed them, and the threat of more punishment wasn’t the deterrent it should have been. Her gaze darted ahead to the wooden obstacles which stood, goading her. However she might feel about the denigration, they were a different matter. Her body wasn’t made to crawl and climb over obstacles like those. It was more than just the humiliating ungainliness—which disturbingly, she might have used to fuel her fire—it was the sheer physical practicality. Hannah had considered herself reasonably fit, but she just didn’t climb, and she certainly couldn’t jump them.

  “Hannah?” His lowered tone captured her attention.

  “No, Mr. Fuller, but I don’t think I am well-suited to the course.”

  Fuller’s dark chuckle echoed around her, and he shifted left, unhooking the end of Hannah’s leash from the post. “Is that right?” He tugged the leash hard, drawing her body toward him. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we, little pet?”

  She sighed at his words, understanding instinctively what they meant—Hannah was going around the course, regardless of what she thought. They meant she’d be clambering over the wooden jumps, just like the others, and if she didn’t do a decent job, there would be consequences.

  There were always consequences where Lawes and Fuller were concerned.

  With one pull of the leash, Fuller led her toward the first obstacle. The wooden posts loomed in her line of sight, and unthinkingly, her limbs came to a halt. Further ahead, she could see Lucy, Audra, and some of the others already making short work of the course. They didn’t need to be leashed to achieve their purpose, the apparent threat of Zander and Matthew’s crops sufficient reason to keep them moving with what looked like ease. But for Hannah, it was hopeless. She hadn’t even gotten over this one initial obstacle the last time, and even if Fuller dragged her around the course, she still doubted she would make it. She just wasn’t built that way. Grown women were not show horses. They weren’t supposed to perform like them.

  Fuller stopped a couple of inches from the wooden posts, and Hannah took in the look of them again. There were two posts, secured to the ground and rising a couple of feet into the air. Between them, another wooden plank created the obstacle at just above head height from her place on her hands and knees. Even more worryingly, another black riding crop waited on the post nearest Fuller. Trepidation knotted at the sight of the thing. Hannah had managed to avoid the implement for some time, but she had a feeling, her luck might be about to change.

  “Here’s how this is going to work.” Fuller folded his arms, the end of her leash still in his right hand. “You are getting around this course today, even if I have to physically yank you over every obstacle myself, and believe me, Hannah, you don’t want that.”

  Hannah’s breath hitched at the implied threat.

  “Are we clear?” He raised his voice with the question. “I don’t want there to be any confusion.”

  “We’re clear. Sir.” She forced the words out in a huff, noticing how his brow knitted at her tone.

  “That attitude is not going to help you, missy.”

  She lowered her head at his stern, admonishing timbre.

  “The very least I want from you is effort.” His arms fell to his sides, and she watched as he grabbed the crop with his free hand. “Anything less will ensure your beautiful ass is well striped with this, Hannah.”

  She gulped miserably. “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on, then.” Fuller lifted the crop and swished it through the air, presumably for dramatic effect.

  Much to Hannah’s chagrin, her muscles tensed at the ominous noise.

  “Over you go.”

  She regarded the wooden posts once more. She could do this, right? If all the others could muster the coordination and energy to get around, so could she. She’d have to this time. The expression on Fuller’s face left no doubt there wo
uld be no reprieves today.

  Slowly, she inched closer to the wood and knelt beside it. From the new position, the obstacle was about shoulder height, but how the hell she was supposed to get over the thing without hurling herself was anyone’s guess. Hannah glanced across the yard to see Lucy tackling another jump. This one was much higher than the one looming over Hannah, yet somehow, the older woman managed the challenge with an enviable air of grace as she rose to greet it and pulled her limbs up and over the wood.

  The tell-tale swish was the first sign of Fuller’s displeasure. Hannah never saw his arm move, but the line of splintering pain on her ass soon brought her back to the task at hand.

  “What are you waiting for?” Fuller snarled.

  Hannah gasped at the unexpected pain of the crop, resisting the urge to turn and rub her tender backside.

  “I’m just working out how best to manage it, sir,” she replied in little more than a wince.

  “Enough thinking.” His tone was curt. “You spend far too much time thinking, Hannah. What I want to see is some action now. Get. Over. It.” He tapped her ass to accentuate the final three words, the swats reigniting the pain he’d just caused.

  “Yes, sir.” Her palms reached for the wood, her limbs scrambling to obey. “I’m trying.”

  Fuller laughed, the sound deepening as red-faced, she mounted the wooden plank.

  “Yes, you are,” he agreed in an amused tone. “You certainly are!”

  Hannah landed in the sawdust on the other side of the obstacle, her shame and arousal burgeoning in equal measure at Fuller’s response. Lowering her head, she tried to hide her flaming face, but that was hopeless. Fuller was already en route to the next jump, the tightening of her leash instructing her which way she should crawl.

  “On to the next,” he called as though the point needed further clarification and wretchedly, Hannah had no choice but to comply. “And this time, let’s see if you can get over without the need for my crop. Not that I don’t love coloring your ass, but you’re never going to survive at this rate.”

  She swallowed back her embarrassment as she tried to keep up with his long strides. As the next wooden obstacle came into view, her thoughts turned back to April. Hannah imagined her in the treatment room with Lawes. Had she managed to pacify him into a false sense of security like they’d discussed, or was the ever-cunning dentist wise to their plan? Dread bloomed in her chest at the possibility.

  April wouldn’t let that happen… she couldn’t.

  The men had been so strict about the rules since their last escape attempts. There would be no other way out of this twisted captivity. The plan had to work.

  She sighed at that idea just as the next obstacle forced Fuller to halt.

  “Jump it.” Fuller waved the crop in the air again, his eyebrow rising, daring her to defy him.

  Fuck. Wherever April was, Hannah hoped things were going better for her than they were for Hannah.

  Twenty-Two

  April

  Pinioned against the confines of the dental chair, April stared up at the man who was screwing her into its shiny, patent leather surface. Lawes’ jaw was tight, his eyes intense with passion, and at this one moment, she knew she had his full attention. She might never want to lay eyes on him again, except across the somber scene of a courtroom—though April still wasn’t certain if that would come true—but right now, the man was everything. All that she could touch, everything she could hear, see, and smell, Lawes devoured her senses, demanding more than just her body but her complete submission.

  Her hands splayed out behind her in what could only be a reflexive gesture of surrender—she certainly hadn’t willed them there—and observing the deed, he reached up, grasping one, then both of her wrists in one large palm.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Lawes’ voice was strained, his accent vibrating more than usual.

  April groaned, arching her back, and splaying her hips forward to meet his thrust.

  “Yes, sir.”

  She squirmed in his hold, ignoring the spike of panic at being immobilized and the pain which ricocheted at his tight grasp. April didn’t care. Not now—not now that he was fucking her. He was right—despite every ounce of the contradiction it represented, this was what she wanted. One final dance of passion playing out between them. The swansong which would ring in her ears long after she’d left the restraints of this sordid place behind. It was no longer about playing the game or keeping to the plan, it was about this—taking what he had to offer and what she wanted before it all changed.

  “Me too.” His admission was a throaty growl. “I mean, I love fucking them all, but you, April. You were my first.”

  He lunged into her harder, impaling her until she cried out again.

  “Fuller had Lucy, but you, you were mine.” He lowered his lips in her direction, their caress brushing her mouth as his murmurs went on. “You’ve always been mine, and you always will be.”

  “Yes.” The word escaped without instruction, swallowed by Lawes’ kiss.

  “That’s why I’m always so hard on you, pet.” He drew away, gazing down at whatever passed for her expression. “That’s why I expect so much.”

  Lawes’ hips stilled, and she groaned again, this time in disappointment.

  “Please, sir,” she mewled. “Don’t stop.”

  And again, April meant every word. Her hips were tipped forward, her legs dangling over the edges of the arm rests, which usually held her in place. His insistent thrusting was really doing something for her, each fresh lunge grazing her needy clit and bringing her close to the oblivion she sought.

  His lips curled into an errant smile as his cock stirred.

  “As you wish, my naughty little pet,” he whispered, sliding himself into her over and over.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  April bit her lip, straining beneath him as she struggled to receive more of what he had to offer—everything he had.

  “It’s that good, huh?” Lawes’ dark eyebrow rose with the inquiry. “My, my April. You are pent up today.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was little point in denying what was so patently obvious. “Please, may I come?”

  The question fell from her mouth like rainwater from the gutters, but while she might once have felt embarrassed having to ask, the thought scarcely registered today. What difference did it make anymore? If the plan worked, and this was to be the last time she was fucked by Brandon Lawes, she wanted it all—every inch of his cock and every filthy moment of the subjugation he’d always made her endure.

  If this was to be it, it needed to be the very best he had.

  The best they both had.

  His mouth brushed hers again, his lips hungry while he kissed her flesh.

  “You know I don’t allow that, April.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed in desperation. The throbbing need within her was tightening, becoming unbearable until soon, all she was going to be able to think about was the desire to come. That wasn’t going to help her think clearly and master the moments ahead. No, April needed to orgasm, and Lawes would just have to fucking permit it.

  “Please, sir.” Her gaze was on him again, his thrusts pushing her higher whether she liked it or not. And there was no doubt. April did like it. She was bloody relishing it. “Please let me come. I promise to be your good girl from now on.”

  A low snigger met her request, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head.

  “Come on now, April,” he said with a chuckle. “You couldn’t be good if you tried.”

  “I can,” she insisted, pushing her body north to garner more of the wonderful friction his body produced. “I’ve been good this week—I’ve learned how to, sir, and I will, I swear it.”

  Lawes released her wrists, one hand falling to her hair.

  “That’s true.” His expression was contemplative. “You have been my good girl this week, and yet, you’re so much sweeter like this,” he mused aloud. “All wet and needy for me. Sur
ely, it would be better to deny you—to keep you this way for me and the others?”

  “Please, no.”

  April reached forward to grasp his shirt-covered shoulder, and this time, the desperation in her voice was real. When she’d considered the idea of luring Lawes with the undeniable chemistry which sparked between them, she hadn’t taken this into account—this irrefutable need. The scratch that begged to be itched but would never be satisfied.

  This was the game Lawes played so well, and it was bloody intolerable.

  “Hmmm.”

  His tone promised he’d think about it, yet April’s experience before the rigging knew better. Lawes enjoyed tormenting and denying her. He knew the effect the arousal had on her and all the other women, and he’d need a good reason to let that slide and allow April’s pleasure.

  “I’m not sure. You’ve already been excused from the training yard this morning, and you’re getting the pleasure of my cock with no restraints.” His gaze fell to the hand at the crisp linen of his shirt. “It seems to me you’re already getting what you want, Ms. Page.”

  April blinked up at him. She hadn’t thought about it that way. With a sigh, she released the tension in her hips. If Lawes wasn’t going to give permission, she might as well let the concept go and concentrate on the next stage of the plan, and that meant getting up and out of this chair.

  “Yes, sir.” She cringed mentally at her despondent tone. “You’re right.”

  Lawes’ brow rose. Evidently, that was not an admission he was used to hearing from April.