by Penelope Sky
But it still felt different.
Normal.
Maybe he was just a good kisser. I wasn’t sure. But as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew one thing was certain.
I was attracted to him.
Why? I had no idea. He was softer than the others but just as dangerous. He broke the law for a living and agreed to take a slave as collateral until he got his money. I wasn’t naïve enough to think he was a good person.
He was just better than the others.
And that was the only reason why I was complying with his demands. I would much rather be with him every night than go back to that psychopath who only referred to me as “bitch.”
At least I enjoyed it—even though I shouldn’t.
I wanted these thirty-one days to last forever. It was the only break I’d had, and I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible.
I got out of the shower and dried my hair before I returned to my bedroom. I didn’t want to face Cane. He knew he made me come, and that was certain to boost his ego to new heights. It would probably make him want me more, not less.
The sun hit the window and stretched across my comforter, making a warm spot where I could enjoy the summer heat. I crossed my legs and sat in that exact spot, my face to the window. The sun hit my cheeks, and I closed my eyes as I absorbed the rays like one of the rosebushes in his garden.
I’d always lived for summer. I never cared for winter or fall. Now that the sun had been taken away from me, the window in my bedroom boarded up with plywood, it was a privilege I took for granted.
Now I took advantage of it.
Cane cleared his throat to announce his presence. He must have opened the door quietly enough that I didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”
I opened my eyes and turned to him, realizing how strange I looked. “Just sitting here.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his arms muscular in his t-shirt. He glanced at the window before his eyes turned back to me. “You know, you can go outside. There’s patio furniture and a nice view.”
I hadn’t left my room because I didn’t want to attract his attention. Like a mouse, I wanted to move about the house without being detected. I’d find a piece of cheese here and there, sneaking things without notice. “I’m okay.” I still hadn’t made direct eye contact with him, choosing to focus on his arms or his shoulders.
I remembered the way his shoulders felt last night…really nice.
“Have you eaten?”
“No.” This house was so big I couldn’t figure out where he was most of the time.
“Why don’t you head down and make something?”
“I will in a bit.” I just wanted him to disappear. I was ashamed to look at him.
Instead of walking away, he stepped inside and sat at the edge of the bed. The mattress made a noticeable dip under his weight. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his back muscles rippling whenever he moved.
I tried not to stare.
“I want you to feel comfortable here, Adelina.”
It was the first time he spoke my name. He added an Italian accent to it, making it sound way sexier than anyone else ever had. It made my spine tighten the same way as it did last night.
“Eat when you’re hungry. Go outside if you want.”
“I guess I’m just used to being a prisoner…” I was used to trying to be invisible all the time. The less I drew attention to myself, the less punishment I got. If I didn’t remind Tristan or his men that I hadn’t eaten, then they didn’t hurt me as much. I starved as a consequence, but that was okay with me.
“You aren’t a prisoner here.”
I finally turned my head and looked him in the eye. When that stunning green color hit my mind, I felt my muscles relax in comfort. He wasn’t harmless, but I somehow felt safe with him. When we walked into that bedroom and didn’t fuck me when I asked him not to, I knew he was different.
“You’re a guest. You can leave whenever you want.”
But there was only one place I could go.
“You don’t need to avoid me. As you’ve figured out, I’m not the beating type.”
I immediately took a deep breath, feeling relief surge through me. I was tired of being knocked around. The pain wasn’t the worst part of it. It was the indignity of it all. It was being treated as less than human. “I know you aren’t.”
“Then get your ass downstairs and eat.” He got off the bed and walked back to the door. “Or I’ll make you.”
I took Cane’s offer and went outside. He didn’t have a backyard like homes in South Carolina. There was no fencing around the perimeter, allowing a glorious view of the hillsides and the distant city of Florence.
The sun was bright that afternoon, and instead of moving to the shade to avoid the heat, I let it absorb into my skin. I should have been home after my visit to Greece by now. My parents knew I’d been missing a long time ago because I always checked in with them every night. When that phone call never came, they undoubtedly filed a report with the local police. And when no one could get a hold of Lizzie, the truth was inevitable.
I felt worse for them than I did for myself.
Not knowing what happened to me was worse than knowing the truth.
That I was a human trafficking victim.
I wanted to read a book, but I didn’t want to get too comfortable. It would be easy to fall in love with the luxuries Cane offered me. He had incredible food in the kitchen, books in his office, and a beautiful home that had the comfiest couches in the world.
But I had to go back.
It was only a matter of weeks until that chain was returned to my ankle and my eyes would turn black again.
No, I shouldn’t get comfortable.
Cane didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. He stayed inside, probably working in his office. When he said I wasn’t a prisoner, it sounded like he meant it.
He was right. I wasn’t.
But knowing I had to return someday hindered any temporary comfort. I couldn’t truly be happy knowing what was at the end of the road for me. It was a slow death. I almost wished I was back with Tristan so he could hit me too hard and end my life then and there.
When the sun set over the horizon and the crickets started to chirp, I walked back inside. Cane was in the living room with a glass of scotch in his hand. His tablet sat in his lap, and he seemed to be reading something as he sat in front of the fire.
He would expect me to please him tonight. I could feel the tension just as I could feel the heat from the flames. He would want to fuck me sooner rather than later, and I couldn’t deny him forever.
When he heard the door click shut behind me, he looked up from his tablet and locked his eyes with mine. Despite how pretty his eyes were, he had a dark soul. I could tell he was a conflicted man, a man with demons that he would never share with me. I suspected he was a lot more dangerous than he let on, but something about me had softened his resolve. “A lot better view than staring at the wall, huh?”
I crossed my arms and walked into the living room. The other couch was vacant, so I took a seat and pulled my knees to my chest. I was still in the jeans and t-shirt he had given me. It was nice to walk around the house fully clothed rather than being stripped to the tiny fabric of a thong.
Cane drank his scotch without moving his eyes from my face. He swirled the ice cubes in his glass before he took another drink, drinking it like water rather than hard liquor. When he swallowed, I could see the movement in his throat. His five o’clock shadow was heavy from not shaving since that morning. It coated his hard jaw and made him handsome like an old-fashioned movie star.
I felt that familiar burn in my thighs, the need to close my knees tightly together. My lips suddenly ached from the hard way he kissed me the night before. Could I hate this man but want to kiss him at the same time? Was that possible? Was this lust? I’d never felt it before, and I didn’t think it was possible after the savage way my virtue had been taken f
rom me.
When his gaze became too much, I looked at the fire instead. Somehow, the flames seemed cold in comparison to the surging heat of his gaze. I could be looking into a volcano, and the lava still wouldn’t compare to the smolder in his eyes.
He downed the rest of his scotch and set the empty glass on the table with a loud thud that echoed in the large living room. The acoustics of the place amplified every movement. He rose from the couch and slowly walked toward me, over six feet of muscle and man.
I forgot to breathe.
He kneeled in front of me, lowering himself to his knees so our faces were level with one another. He stripped his shirt over his head and tossed it over the back of the couch. His hard body was defined with endless muscles. His pectorals were wide and powerful, and his abs looked like a map of endless rivers. I’d never seen a man so strong in the flesh. His arms were just as lean and tight, and he didn’t possess an ounce of fat anywhere.
My thighs squeezed together.
What the hell was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be attracted to a man who used a woman as a form of currency. I should want a man who was committed to doing the right thing, to helping me and Lizzie get out of the situation. I should want a white knight, a selfless man who had the chivalry of a gentleman.
Cane was nothing like that. He threatened to send me back unless I opened my legs and gave him what he wanted. He didn’t care about my feelings or my injuries. He just wanted to fuck me like all the others.
But I couldn’t ignore the way my lips trembled when they were pressed to his. I couldn’t forget the way my panties became drenched in my own arousal. I couldn’t forget the way it felt to have his come in my mouth, the surge of satisfaction I got when he came with a moan.
Seriously, I had a mental problem.
Cane grabbed my shirt and lifted it over my head. I cooperated but only barely. Once the fabric was gone, I felt the warm air hit my skin directly. My nipples immediately hardened once he stared at me in my bra. He pressed his face into the valley between my breasts and ran his tongue all the way to my throat.
And I moaned.
His hand snaked around my back and quickly unclasped my bra. Once the straps were loose, he yanked it off and continued to kiss my neck. I leaned back into the sofa and ran my fingers up his strong back, feeling the muscles tense and coil as he moved. I turned my head harder, wanting more of those sexy kisses.
Cane undid his jeans as he kissed me at the same time, never breaking his pace as his lips devoured me.
I knew what was coming next, but there was no way for me to stop it. I’d have to suck it up and get through it like all the other times.
Cane got my jeans loose and slid them down my legs before he grabbed my panties. He pulled those to my ankles then pushed down his jeans and boxers. He wrapped my underwear around his nine-inch length and jerked himself for a moment, using the inside of my panties as lubrication.
My lips automatically parted.
He moved his hand to the head of his cock, where a drop of his own lubrication formed. He wiped it away with my panties then let them fall to the floor. Now there was no denying that I wanted him. My body betrayed me when it leaked my arousal as evidence.
But I was still terrified.
He grabbed my hips and adjusted me on the couch, one leg pinned to the back of the cushion while the other nearly touched the coffee table. He moved on top of me, getting me ready to be fucked in the corner of the couch. My pussy was wet, and I could feel the arousal between my legs, but my heart ached in pain.
I didn’t want this.
Cane pinned my leg against this chest and pressed it toward my body. His hand grabbed his length, and he massaged it before he pointed his head at my entrance. His eyes were glued to my face, watching my reaction as his head tried to squeeze inside me.
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to ask him to stop.
But I didn’t want to go back to Tristan.
I’d rather be fucked by a man I somewhat liked over a man who made me contemplate suicide.
Cane leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine and gave me a slow kiss. Every embrace with his lips felt good, like he kissed me because he really wanted to. He adored my lips with his mouth and gently drove his tongue inside. Sometimes he opened his eyes to look at me, to see my reaction to him.
My hands anchored over his shoulders, I held on as I kissed him back. My mouth worked on its own and did what came natural. I’d kissed a few men in my life, but none of those embraces had ever been like this. He was a great kisser, attending to my mouth like I was the woman he loved.
Cane moaned quietly into my mouth as he pressed inside me. His thick head pushed past my lips and met the moisture that had pooled there. His lips paused as he thrust his hips gently and moved another inch.
My body wanted this, but I didn’t. The fact that I did want it just made me feel worse. “Stop…” I said the word out loud but hardly expected him to listen to me. The first inch of his cock was now inside my pussy, feeling my warmth and slickness. Even an earthquake wouldn’t stop him now.
He halted on top of me, but he looked at me with pure irritation. The moan that escaped his lips was full of disappointment.
“I’m sorry. I just…” I pressed against his hard chest but couldn’t move him if I tried. “I’m just not ready.”
“You want me.” He said matter-of-factly, his cock still pressing inside me. “Have me.”
I almost surrendered and dropped my hands. My pussy tightened around him automatically, enjoying the way his deep voice played on my ear. “I don’t want to do this… I need more time.” His green eyes bored into mine with authority, silently arguing with everything I said.
He could shove himself inside me and do it anyway, but he didn’t. “How much time?”
“I don’t know…just not tonight.”
He growled under his breath but kept me pinned into the couch. “Adelina, I’m not like them. I’ll make you come just like I did last time.”
I already knew that. I could feel the buildup deep between my legs. “I know…”
He pressed his face into my neck and released another growl of frustration. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
I felt his huge cock between my legs, so I did know.
He pulled his cock out of me then pressed it against my folds. “You need to trust me. I don’t want to hurt you, just make you feel good—the way you make me feel.” He rubbed his cock against my wet clit, pressing into me and giving me the kind of pleasure that made my legs shake.
I’d never had a man do this to me before, grind against me and make me feel incredible at the same time. I dry-humped my boyfriend in high school, but that was through our jeans. This was skin-to-skin, and it felt so good.
His mouth returned to mine and he kissed me just as he did before, but this time, it was with more hunger. He ground his hips against me, pushing the length of his cock along my clit over and over.
My nails dug into his back and dragged down his skin. My hips began to move on their own, grinding against his length because I wanted more of that big dick against me. I felt the burn between my legs, the announcement of a powerful orgasm.
Cane thrust his hips harder, moving with me and breathing hard. Sweat formed on his body, and his scent was powerful in my nose. He pressed me harder into the corner of the couch and watched my tits shake up and down.
My hands moved to his biceps, and I gripped them tightly when the orgasm hit. Like a jolt of lightning that shocked my body, I became white-hot. I dug my nails deep into his skin and panted into his mouth. I stopped kissing him because I preferred to scream. My moan exploded into his mouth and absorbed into his tongue.
It felt so good, just like it did last time. I’d never experienced anything like this before, not even when I touched myself in the middle of the night. Did climaxes always feel this amazing? Or was Cane just a master at giving them?
His cock was covered in my lubrication, and it
made sex noises when it rubbed against my drenched pussy. He gave a few more pumps before he came with a moan, squirting all of my body with his warm seed.
I enjoyed watching him come. His eyes softened for just an instant in time as he experienced the high. He held his breath for a moment just like last time, pausing to feel the sensation as much as possible. “Jesus…” His thrusts slowed down until they stopped altogether. He admired the come sitting on my tits and stomach and leaned down to give me one final kiss.
It was soft and full of satisfaction. His tongue brushed against mine before he pulled away. His cock slowly softened, still shiny from my arousal. “I’m not a patient man, so don’t expect me to wait much longer.”
14
Cane
She came down to the kitchen on her own the next morning. I loaned her a pair of my sweatpants and one of my t-shirts so she would have something to sleep in. Somehow, she made the baggy and unflattering clothes look sexy. She’d showered and braided her hair over one shoulder. I’d never seen her with makeup, but I knew she didn’t need it. She had a natural beauty to her, the kind of brilliance that only stars possessed.
When she came into the kitchen, she could look at me this time. Yesterday, she avoided me, like crossing my path would mean certain death. After thinking about it for a while, I realized she was just embarrassed.
She was embarrassed that she enjoyed sucking my cock.
She was embarrassed that she wanted me to fuck her.
She was embarrassed that she wanted me.
I didn’t have to be a victim to understand the conflict. She’d been tortured and raped by scary men. She shouldn’t enjoy being desired by another man who was just as cruel. She struggled to accept her lustful feelings, as natural as they were.
I poured a mug of coffee and handed it to her, with a little cream and sugar. As a custom, I noticed little details around me all the time. I studied people’s habits so I could understand them better. For instance, I knew Crow was right-handed, but he always held his fork in his left hand. I suspected it was so he could grab his knife at any moment and stab someone in the throat—if he had to.