by M. S. Willis
The small wisps of light that streamed through the cave danced across his face, illuminating the violent cut of his jaw and the deep tan to his skin. She wanted to reach out and rub her palm against the stubble on his cheek, but the cuffs prevented any exploration between them, except for his.
“Sit down.” Gently tugging on the chain he directed her down so that she straddled his legs, her knees bent, her legs spread. She was exposed to him completely, incapable of moving away or fighting him off. Somehow, this man was able to render her completely helpless, yet stoke a flame within her that burned along every nerve ending in her body all at the same time.
Wrapping the chain slowly around his wrist, he smirked to gain use of both hands while still holding her restraint. Gripping the bottom hem of her shirt, he lifted the material slowly, his eyes examining every inch of her skin that came into view. Lifting it over her breasts, she felt her skin tighten and swell when she noticed the open admiration in his eyes. Eventually, those blue jewels moved to her face, locking with her eyes, burning into her.
“I don’t know if you realize just how desirable you are. I suspect that, growing up, nobody understood the darkness in you. They may have reacted with fear, contempt — disgust. To me, however, that darkness only makes you a rare jewel, a woman perfectly built for a man like me.” When her eyes widened in surprise, he paused. “I intend to tame you completely, Hope, and not just to give to you the things your body craves, but to satisfy my own need by exploring the depths of your darkness, by sinking inside you, only to raise us both into the light. I know you disconnect yourself from everybody and everything, it’s so obvious in the way you dance with death, how you throw yourself into a fight without fear of losing your life. But I won’t allow you to disconnect yourself from me any longer.”
“I want to touch you.” The request slipped off her lips in a breathless whisper, surprising her even though she’d been the one to speak it. Her hands squeezed together behind her back from her desire to run them over the rough skin of his cheeks, through the silk strands of his hair, over the steel of his muscle covered by the smooth perfection of skin.
Wickedly, he teased, “I’m not sure I can trust removing your cuffs, how do I know you won’t attempt to get away from me.”
She grinned. “You’ll still have your leash.”
A single brow arched seductively over his darkened eye. Releasing his grip on her, he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and reached around her. She heard the metal of the key hit against the lock, the faint snap as he released it from her wrist. However, she was surprised to hear it close again, and even more surprised to feel Xander pull their hands between them to show that their wrists were now bound together. Folding his hand over hers, he held out his other hand, completely opening himself to her touch. “I’m all yours.”
Slowly lowering her hands to his chest, she sucked in a breath when her palms tingled against the warmth of his body. His form was perfection, raw strength barely contained beneath his skin. Moving her hands up, she brought them along the sides of his neck, up further, along his jaw. She savored feeling the rough skin before finally burying her hands into his thick hair, gripping her fingers tighter and watching his eyes slowly close. She didn’t notice that he’d taken the leash back in his other hand, so when he tugged gently, pulling her towards him, she smiled before brushing her lips across his. His mouth pushed against her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth only briefly before his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. She pulled away and opened her eyes only to be assaulted by the intensity of his stare.
“You taste like my destruction,” she whispered.
His response was spoken on a frustrated growl. “That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
Within seconds, he turned, pinning her body beneath his. He grabbed her hands, bringing them above her head. His mouth covered hers, his kiss deep, yet painfully slow. The bastard was stoking her slowly, building the heat bit by bit, until her ache for his touch became absolute torture to endure. His fingers gripped around hers, the tips digging between the tendons and bones of her hand.
Trailing his lips down the side of her neck, he teased at the sensitive skin. Small bites sending sparks along her nerves, before his tongue flicked out to smooth away the hurt. She attempted to push against him, to speed along the aggravatingly slow pace of his mouth. He chuckled across her skin, the sound vibrating through his chest and into hers. Pulling his hands away from hers, he reached between them to grab her hips and hold them in place — her hand also pulled between them from where they’d been chained together.
“Calm down, Sunshine, we’ve got several hours to kill before sunlight. I intend to take my time.”
Her eyes closed — the weight of being denied instant gratification a suffocating frustration she was unable to bear. Every sense in her body was awakened, electricity coursing through her body, anticipating his every touch, the dull shocks of pain blended perfectly with the warmth blooming inside. The sound was faint, and had she not heard it so many times before, when she’d practiced or fought, she wouldn’t have recognized it at all. But, when she heard the small sound of metal sliding against a heavy leather sheath, her eyes opened again — just before she felt the blade softly slide across her skin.
Her entire body jumped at the sensation, the cold bite of steel — the threat of death dangled before her eyes, a temptation and fascination she’d carried with her for as long as she could remember. He pulled the blade down along her side, teasing her; the pressure enough to warn, to scratch the skin, but not enough to draw blood or cause harm.
His voice was a deep timbre when he whispered, “You welcome death.”
Her responsive words barely escaped her. She was thoroughly seduced with the feel of the blade against her body, the knowledge that she was completely vulnerable and exposed to his whims. “Anything has to be better than the life I’ve lived.”
Moonlight flickered off the steel, catching her eye when it flashed. When she looked back up, his eyes were locked to hers, deadly heat swirling within the blue. He stared at her for the longest time, both of their hearts beating against their chests, both of them breathing with shallow and erratic breaths. When he finally spoke into the silence that had settled between them, his words consumed her mind entirely, taking from her the ability to think clearly.
“When I’m done with you, I’ll ensure you’ll never welcome it again. In fact …” His voice lowered impossibly more, his words nothing more than a breathless whisper across her skin. “… The only thing you’ll desire from now on, will be me.”
The tip of the blade pricked the skin of her hip and, although the pain was nothing more than a quick bite against her skin, her anticipation for it caused it to erupt along her body in waves, her mind instantly locked within the comfortable numbness of sensation and need — his voice echoing in her thoughts as she was lost to the incredible force of his touch.
Before him, and before this moment, she’d always needed more pain to make her feel, to bring a small bit of the reminder of life into her psyche. But, because he affected her so deeply, and worshipped her with such admiration and restraint, even the tiniest amount that he gave her became an unbridled passion within her body — as if she’d been stung by a bee, but felt like she’d jumped from a cliff to land on the jagged rocks below. He put her in a place where a simple kiss against her skin was enough to steal her breath and push her towards a plateau of ecstasy so steep, she feared she’d lose herself when he finally forced her over the edge.
She heard the thin knife strike against pebbles when he dropped it to the ground beside their bodies. His palm, rough from the use of weapons, replaced the sting of steel; warm instead of cold, soft instead of sharp. Running his hand along the same path he’d dragged the knife, the salt of his skin seeped into the thin scratch. Her body arched, her mind reeling that the simplest touch could pull her apart.
Almost instantly, every muscle in her body relaxed, completely subm
itting to the man who held her.
She allowed him to set their grueling rhythm, losing herself within the slow pace rather than fighting against it. Surrendering to the domination of her body and mind, she allowed him to take her to a place within herself she’d never known. It was warm and comforting, something hidden deep inside, far from the daily dance with death. She didn’t want to leave this place, not when he was the one responsible for taking her there.
His hands were rough where they traveled across her skin. But the softness of his touch disturbed her. It was a caress, something tender and strange and she grabbed at his hand where it was connected to hers, directing his touch along her body rougher and harder. He resisted, and became still above her.
“Why pain?”
His words were so soft, she wasn’t sure she’d heard them correctly. Opening her eyes, she looked at his face, watching him study the scar on her body that he traced with his finger. His face was bathed in shadow and she couldn’t see the emotion hidden in his eyes, but she could feel it — the reverence, the care, and the sadness when he looked at her.
Her chest rose and fell with heavy breath and she was disoriented by the sudden interruption of what they’d been doing. Gathering herself together enough to consider his question, she finally answered, “It makes me a better fighter.”
“Your profession is why you like it?”
“No.” Her honesty in that simple response surprised her — but it had slipped from her tongue faster than she could think to conceal it. “I liked it before I was taught to fight — it was the reason I was taught to fight.”
“So why?”
He finally looked up at her face, and she was desperate for a bit of light to chase away the shadow that covered him. “I can’t answer for when I was young, I just remember that it felt good. Not so much the pain itself, but the feeling that came after it — the euphoria. I felt something and nothing all at the same time.”
“You surrender to it?”
“Yes.”
“But, not when you fight?”
“No.” She cleared her throat, forcing down her discomfort with his questions. “No, that is something different entirely. I came alive when I fought and the pain only helped me fight harder. I took my anger out on my opponents and didn’t care if that fight would be my last. I was good, even when I was young.”
“You were trained as a child?”
She shrugged. “My mother died and my father was part of the network. He didn’t know what to do with me, couldn’t handle my moods after she died, so he allowed them to train me — figured out that it was the only thing that would calm me down. A female assassin was an asset, I could sneak in more places, be less noticeable.”
“You are anything but less noticeable.” He grinned.
“Says the man whose guard was shot dead beside him,” she teased. “If Aaron hadn’t moved to catch Maddy, it would have been him.”
“I would have killed you for it — would have never given you a chance to so much as blink before putting a bullet in your head. Aaron is my brother.”
She was startled, never hearing that Joseph had two sons. “I thought Aaron was an only child, the only heir of The Estate.”
A humorless laughed escaped him. “I was … adopted.” She felt his body tense suddenly, anger and bitter thoughts settling beneath his skin. “I’ve lived at The Estate since I was four.”
She grieved to hear his admission. Looking up at his face, a beam of light broke through the entrance of the cave, finally illuminating his eyes. The memories and pain she saw hidden behind their depths was familiar — a pain much like her own.
“You didn’t grow cold.”
The small bit of light, disappeared behind vines blown across the entrance by the wind. Bathed in shadow again, he was quiet for a moment before responding. “I watched Aaron struggle most of my life with his anger, with a darkness that existed inside him. When he sinks to it, he wants nothing more than to kill, to bathe in the blood of the men he destroyed. I remained grounded to keep him grounded.”
“I don’t know why you cared. All I’ve wanted is death and escape from this nightmare world. The cities were overrun by crime and my friends disappeared every week. My sister — Honor — she begged our father to get us away from here, to move some place not overshadowed by The Estate. He would never leave, the streets were all he knew.”
He didn’t respond immediately, but when he spoke again, Hope was surprised by his whispered confession. “We intend to destroy it — The Estate. It’s destroyed us all in some way or another.”
“We?”
“Aaron, Madeleine and me.” After letting out a frustrated breath, he continued, “The Estate is more than just a network; it’s evil incarnate — a living, breathing part of the man who created it. It is as much Joseph’s child as Aaron, and even after Joseph’s death, it continues to teem with the corruption he spread. Almost every man has been infected with his blood lust, with the power hungry rage that he demanded of the men who served him. It’s only since Aaron took control that the worst of the depravities ceased.”
“Yet, they never truly stopped as you’d believed. My sister is proof of that.” She felt the fury she’d been pushing back over the past few days begin to resurface. “If they’ve killed her …”
He placed a finger over her mouth. “If they’ve killed her, then she is lucky. I know the practices taught to these men. Joseph always ensured Aaron and I had a front row seat to witness just how horrifying he could be.”
The lump that formed in her throat stole her ability to swallow down what he’d claimed. “If she is dead, I’ll die as well. She was what ‘grounded’ me.”
His smile was barely visible in the low light of the space. “No, my tortured beauty, I won’t let that happen. If she is gone, then I will just have to hold on to you and Aaron both.”
He leaned down to kiss her, the brush of his lips feather light against hers. It was intimate, affection based on some feeling other than lust or need. It caused her muscles to fall languid beneath her skin and her head to swim with emotions she’d never wanted to feel. His touch was his acceptance of her hatred of herself — his understanding of her needs at a level no person had known her before. He deepened the kiss, his hands running over her, his masterful fingers making it impossible for her to resist. He was her tormentor and protector, her captivity and freedom. She could, for once, let go of her need to fight, to seek pain just to bask in the comforting numbness that came with it. What he gave her, what he did to awaken and bring to life her body and mind, was more exhilarating than anything she’d known before.
It was hours that he took her over, rendering her completely docile to his whims. She became lost within him, waking up from the haze for brief moments, only to have him kiss her, or nip at her skin and replace her back where she was sated and satisfied. He connected with her, like a puzzle piece finally finding it’s match. A man who enjoyed granting small bits of pain and a woman who needed it to feel like she was alive.
After taking her to a place where she could be free of the pain and heartache of her life, where she could forget about fighting and conquest and despair, Xander wrapped his body around her and she fell asleep listening to the strong and rhythmic beat of his heart against his chest.
Chapter Nineteen
Sunlight streamed into the depth of the cave, the shadows of leaves moving within an angry wind that danced across the skin of their naked bodies. Xander pushed up, his bones aching from sleeping on the ground. After releasing the cuff that bound him to Hope, he stretched his arms above him, popping his joints into place and dressing quickly. His eyes flicked over to Hope, her tan skin stretched taut over lean and toned muscles. He’d take her again quickly if it weren’t for the shadow of a man stretched out across the entrance.
Walking out, blue collided with angry green when he locked his stare to Aaron’s.
“I’m not even sure what to say to you, brother. You’ve chosen to fuck the ene
my, the remnants of your loyalty left inside the bitch. Was it worth it?”
Xander didn’t flinch, he’d known Aaron for too long to believe Aaron truly wanted him dead. Rolling his shoulders back he replied, “If you wanted to kill me, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. Why wait for me to face you when you could have easily cut our throats while we slept?” He kept his voice calm and bored, knowing full well the man before him was one wrong word away from tearing his head from his shoulders.
Aaron’s expression remained blank and his shoulders relaxed even though a blade still spun over his hand. “I take it you assumed Maddy would convince me not to kill Hope; or that I wouldn’t remember the location of the only available hiding place on the compound?”
Xander nodded, also relaxing to realize that Aaron’s initial threat had been partly in warning. “She’s not lying to you. I have no way of proving it, but I know there’s more going on than we realize.”
Sunlight flashed off the steel of Aaron’s blade. He flicked it in his hand once more, before, placing it in the sheath at his back. “After talking with Maddy last night, I went through some papers in the office for a period of time to consider the situation more thoroughly. When I noticed that the house she indicated was one that took on the sex trade members after that unit was brought down, it caught my attention.”
“I came to that conclusion last night as well.” The tension eased over Xander’s body to realize that Aaron was finally thinking clearly.
The two men stared at each other for a few quiet moments before Aaron broke the silence. “I’m still angry that you went against a direct order; especially one that involved a potential threat. Regardless of whatever the two of you have been doing, she remains a threat — at least until we can determine the absolute truth to her claim.”