Inflict

by Bethany-Kris

  He couldn’t say the same for her.

  “Run, pretty lass,” Connor taunted, “because once I catch you, it’s going to be all for me, then.”

  Evelyn’s breathless laughter echoed back into the kitchen as she disappeared into the hallway. “For me, too.”

  Of course.

  Even when it was for him, it was still for her.

  With his shoes already off, he quickly kicked off his slacks, leaving him in nothing but boxer-briefs as he jogged out of the kitchen. A quick trip down the hallway, and he found Evelyn waiting at the bottom of the stairs, staring back in his direction.

  “Aye, you’re being cute today, thinking I was joking,” Connor said. “We’ll see how you feel in about ten minutes or so.”

  Evelyn let out a squeak before stumbling up three stairs. She just managed to gain footing by the time he was already on her, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her off the stairs entirely. Her shout ricocheted off the walls, followed by Connor’s dark laughter. She kicked and bucked in his hold, trying her damnedest to get out of his embrace, and failing just the same.

  “I gave you a chance, remember that,” he told her.

  “It’s not fair, you’re stronger than me!”

  “Should have found a place to hide; I have no patience to play games.”

  “Oh, you … you—”

  Connor flipped a still struggling, yet laughing, Evelyn over his shoulder, the skirt of her flimsy dress flying wildly and leaving her behind bare but for her black knickers. Unable to help himself, he smacked her arse with his palm. “Just say it, lass. And that’s one.”

  Evelyn let out a heated laugh, the sexy, almost airless quality betraying her next insult. “Asshole!”

  He slapped her backside again, a bit lower, where the curve met her thigh. She tightened in his embrace, stiffening from the sting before her body relaxed even more. “You need a new insult.”

  “It fits.”

  Connor held tight to Evelyn, even as he strolled through the kitchen, heading for the windows. She slapped his back, though the force barely stung, as he yanked the curtains closed. They were the only ones that might allow someone to see in.

  Then, he grabbed the satin rope that was used to tie back the curtains.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  Connor smirked. “You know.”

  “You said you were going to—”

  “And I am, and I’m going to make it easier on myself while I do it.” He could already feel her prepping for another slur to hurl at him. “Remember, lass, get a new insult to say.”

  “Prick,” she mumbled.

  Well, it was new.

  He’d give her that.

  “Doesn’t feel as good as the arsehole one,” Connor admitted.

  “Like I said, it fits.”

  Connor gave Evelyn one last smack on her arse before he flipped her off his shoulder, turned her around, and bent her over the backside of the island. It wasn’t exactly where they had started, but it was feckin’ close enough for him. Her ringing laughter taunted him when she refused to give him her hands to tie at her back. She spun over to her back so she could face him, gave him a sly smile, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  “Hard it is, then,” Connor uttered between clenched teeth.

  Evelyn grinned. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  “Good to know.”

  As fast as lightening, Connor had her flipped back over. He didn’t bother tying her hands at her back, since she was going to be difficult on that anyway, and instead, used the long length of satin cord to tie her wrists high above her head. Evelyn didn’t seem to understand what he was doing, or how to react, before he had tied the loose ends of the rope to the cabinet handle on the other side of the island.

  Evelyn tugged once, then twice on her ties, getting nowhere. Her entire top half was laid out across the island, while her legs were firmly planted on the floor, spread wide.

  “You!”

  Connor laughed. “This is a damned classy sight for you, lass.”

  Evelyn blew out a breath, her hair flying out of her face as she tried to look back at him. “Have fun getting my dress off now.”

  “Was that a challenge?”

  She didn’t respond.

  Connor only took that as a confirmation.

  “Don’t move too much, love,” he murmured in her ear. “And the very second you say stop, this ends.”

  It was his new rule, given everything. She was the only one who could tell him when it was too much. He couldn’t always know. She had to speak up.

  Connor yanked open the junk drawer, and pulled a pocketknife from within. He had them hidden all over the damn house. He swore he felt a shiver roll through Evelyn’s spine when the blade of his pocketknife came in contact with the neckline of her dress. Her gasp echoed into the kitchen as he cut the fabric straight down the middle of her back, starting at the very top, and working his way to the skirt. He made sure to pull hard on the dress, so it would bite into her skin as he cut it the feck off. He only stepped back to admire his handiwork when the dress was split wide open, ruined and hanging on either side of Evelyn, and she was bare to him. All but her knickers, that was.

  “Now,” he said, letting the flat end of his blade run down Evelyn’s spine, “now we’re at a beautiful sight, lass.”

  Evelyn released a shaky breath. “You cut it off me.”

  “Did you like that one?”

  “A little.”

  “Next time, just take it off before we get to this point—simple.”

  She was probably rolling her pretty green eyes at him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was much too preoccupied with the way his knife looked traveling over her peach-and-cream skin, and how easily the curved edge caught on the elastic waistband of her knickers.

  “Should I cut these off, too?” he asked, letting the knickers snap back against her skin. “Or do you want to make it easy on me?”

  Evelyn tossed him a sneer. “Fuck you.”

  Hard it was.

  She squirmed, her stinging insults broken up between bouts of breathless laughter as he cut the black knickers off her, too. Unlike the dress, which he had left hanging on her form, he pulled the ruined bottoms off, not wanting them in his way.

  Connor dropped to his knees, landing two hard, back-to-back swats against Evelyn’s arse as he bent down. Each time one landed against her skin, she jerked into the counter, a happy sigh falling from her lips.

  “Wider,” he demanded, “open these legs up wider for me.”

  She did, no questions asked.

  He palmed her backside with one hand, his fingers digging in roughly while his other slipped between her open thighs. His fingers found the sliver of her sex wet and hot, and she shook above him.

  “You’ve got just enough slack on that rope to bend at the knees a bit and sit,” Connor said.

  “So?”

  His backside hit the floor and he turned and slid in between her legs, so his back was to the counter. His mouth was just an inch from her wet cunt. He could smell her arousal already, and it had his mouth watering. “Sit on me face or don’t, lass.”

  “You know, depending on your mood, that brogue of yours gets deeper.”

  “It’s a gift. Let me give you another.”

  Evelyn whined. “You’re supposed to be making this hard on me.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  Silly woman, she didn’t even question him on how; instead, lowering her body into his waiting mouth. Connor groaned low, the rumble vibrating through his chest, at the first taste of her wetness on his tongue. There was something about the taste of her, all heady, tart, yet sweet, that he loved. It was a feckin’ shame to waste it, really, so he couldn’t bring himself to do that at all.

  He ate her hard, palming her arse, and forcing her to stay still while the flat side of his tongue explored and teased every single spot he could find. He was sure his fingerprints would be bruised i
nto her pale skin, and that only spurred him on more. His assault on her sex continued until he felt the telltale tremors, her wetness increased, and her tight hole clenched around his tongue.

  Then, and only then, he pulled back.

  Evelyn let out a broken cry at the loss of her orgasm. “Connor!”

  “Wee bit louder next time, lass. The feckin’ neighbor didn’t hear you.”

  He rubbed and soothed the flesh of her thighs and arse, occasionally landing another spank to her bottom whenever she moved or whined a bit too much for his liking. Once he was sure her orgasm was good and gone, he pulled her cunt back to his mouth, and started the process over again.

  Over.

  And.

  Over.

  And.

  Over.

  He ate her cunt rough and fast, reddened and marked her skin with his hands just the way she liked, and let her hang each and every time an orgasm started to build. He was feckin’ relentless. She wanted hard, and he was going to give it to her just like she asked.

  Evelyn yanked on her ties again and again, her legs shook, and her cries became so desperate, Connor thought he had never heard music as beautiful as that sound. But it was only when she began to beg, when he noticed that reaching her peak before he pulled it away from her seemed to get harder, did he finally let her go. Sweat slicked her thighs, and her flesh was a pretty pink from his handling. Her cunt couldn’t get any wetter, but he loved how much sweeter her pussy seemed to taste from his torture.

  “Please … oh my, God, please let me come, Connor,” Evelyn mumbled. “Please.”

  He didn’t, not from his mouth and tongue, anyway. Instead, he pulled away from her wet, swollen pussy, despite how much it killed him to do so. He didn’t like to waste, after all.

  Standing up straight, he was able to get a good look at his lover, and just how much it was killing her to be bereft of what she wanted the most. Sweat-slicked, messed hair, wild eyes, bitten-red lips, and trembling like a wee leaf.

  “Keep begging,” he ordered with another hard swat to her ass.

  Evelyn did as he demanded, her pleas and wants falling from her lips like a waterfall of words that seemed never-ending. She didn’t stop begging when he spanked her again, down her thighs, and back up her arse, until pink turned to red, and her skin was damned hot under his hands. She didn’t even stop when he shoved his boxer-briefs down and stepped out of them, fisting his hard length and tugging on his cock with a few rough strokes.

  The throbbing ache in his length only increased the longer he stared at Evelyn, her pert arse high, skin red from his handling, and her cunt visible between her thighs. He didn’t bother to give her any warning as he stepped in between her legs, angled his cock against her entrance, and thrust in hard.

  She was wet enough that he found no resistance there, and even with the walls of her pussy clamping down around his cock, she was nice and open for him. Each push of his hips was punctuated by another swat of his hand landing on some part of her thighs or arse, though softer than he had been spanking her before. She could take it—she would like it, too, he knew—but he might like to have her sitting in his lap later on, and that wouldn’t be possible if she was full of welts.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Evelyn mumbled, her cheek pressed into the countertop. “I just want to come.”

  “You will.”

  But it wouldn’t be easy.

  Not after all he’d done.

  She’d have to work for it.

  She’d have to want it bad.

  Evelyn tossed her head back, her strawberry waves flicking over her sweat-slicked spine. This was how he loved her best, Connor decided. When she was free, chasing a high, and it was all because of him.

  Nothing else quite compared to that.

  He was right—it took her a while to get to her peak again, even when she begged him to ride her harder, even when tears streaked down her cheeks from the sensations coursing through her system. It was almost as though she was afraid to reach for her orgasm, because he might take it away again.

  Connor didn’t, and he certainly didn’t ease up as she came, either. Instead, he rode her harder, one hand grabbing onto her hip to pull her into him faster, the other tangling into her hair so he could watch her face while she came.

  Such a beautiful sight …

  It was only after, as Evelyn laid spent over the island counter, her legs still spread, and her arms still tied, that she took a deep breath and spoke. “You didn’t finish, did you?”

  Connor chuckled, letting his hand drift over her heated skin with a soft touch. “I’m not done.”

  “You’re going to kill me.”

  “I think this is exactly what you wanted. Some attention, am I right?”

  Evelyn’s back lifted into the palm of his hand as he stroked her spine. “Maybe.”

  “You don’t need to throw pans at me to get a good ride, lass.”

  “I don’t know; this worked pretty well for me.”

  “Well, we’re not done yet, though.”

  Connor didn’t even have to look up from his work to know Evelyn was standing in the doorway, watching him. Her presence was impossible to ignore, especially for him. He always felt her when she was near. It was one of the ways he knew that he loved her.

  Since that morning, when she’d tricked him into a reaction, pretending she had wanted attention, he felt something was off with her. She kept her distance, as much as she could in the brownstone, but he knew something was wrong.

  Connor just didn’t know where to start, he figured Evelyn would come to him when she was ready.

  “You need something, love?”

  “No.”

  Her quiet response was punctuated with a soft sigh. Connor finally looked up from the design he was working on, one of the only things—beside her—that gave him any peace lately. He was learning that taking over a criminal organization, and stepping into the highest seat of said organization, was far from simple and easy.

  Insubordinate men.

  Ignorant arseholes.

  Bad blood with other organizations.

  It just never ended.

  Connor’s only moments of peace came when he was home, in his brownstone, locked away from the world and the men and the nonstop phone calls. Where he could take off the suit jackets he hated, roll up his sleeves, and get lost in a rainbow of colors with Evelyn nearby.

  If heaven existed, that was it for Connor.

  “What is it?” Connor asked.

  Evelyn leaned in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her middle, though she looked swallowed whole in that oversized sweater of his she was wearing. “I need to do something, Connor.”

  He tipped his head to the side, confused. “All right. Do what, exactly?”

  “I’m not sure … I mean, I know, but I’m not sure you’ll be okay with it. Except, it doesn’t matter if you are okay with it or not, I have to do it now that I can, and I have the chance, because I made a promise.”

  Connor didn’t like the sound of any of that at all. “You’re not making any sense, lass.”

  Evelyn released a shaky sigh, and when she looked at him again, something frightening stared back at him. Connor thought he’d chased away all her monsters—everything that might hurt her, or take her from him again, he’d put them in a grave one by one. It was just him and her left, now, and they could be together, crazy if they needed, quiet if they wanted, but together.

  The look on her face, sadness churned with fear, told him he was wrong.

  So wrong.

  “Evelyn?”

  “Please don’t be mad at me, Connor,” she whispered.

  “I’m not—I could never be, love.”

  He didn’t get the chance to reassure her with more words before she was moving into the room, crossing the space between the door and his desk, and then resting down at his feet. There, she bent down on her knees, her head lying in his lap, and her hands tangling into his slacks as if to keep them both still.

>   Connor didn’t understand what was happening, he didn’t know why his usually unemotional, yet happy, lover was suddenly the exact opposite from her normal self. He wanted to push her, to demand she answer his questions if she was so determined something was wrong between them, but instead, he didn’t.

  Instead, he stroked her hair, her cheeks, and her back. He let his fingertips glide overtop of the tip of the multi-colored feather of one of her tattooed wings that peeked out of the top of her shirt. He felt her trembling, saw the glimmer of wetness that slid from the corner of her eye before she wiped it away, and he stayed silent.

  Because he just didn’t know what to say.

  “Please don’t be mad at me,” Evelyn repeated. “Not today, tonight, or tomorrow. It’ll be okay, I just can’t tell you when or why.”

  “Of course, it’ll be fine,” Connor said, pulling Evelyn up from her knees to make her sit in his lap. There, he was able to make her look at him while he spoke, and she could know each word he said was the absolute truth. He kissed her once, then twice, holding her face in his hands and keeping her still. “Whatever it is, it’ll be grand, love.”

  “Keep that in mind when you don’t feel the same as you do right now, okay?”

  Connor chuckled, though it came out hollow and dry.

  He wanted to agree.

  But her voice shook too much.

  Her eyes still reflected pain.

  She was going to hurt him, he realized.

  She just wasn’t going to tell him how.

  Connor learned exactly how Evelyn would hurt him by the time morning rolled around, and he woke up alone in bed, without her. At first, he thought she was somewhere in the brownstone, even though she never got out of their bed before he had woken up, too. So, he didn’t panic, at first. He showered, got dressed, and then went looking through silent halls and empty rooms for someone he already knew was gone, but didn’t want to admit it.

  In his office, money was missing.

  In the closet, a bag was gone.

  In her dresser, clothes were emptied out.

  His leather jacket was missing.