The Uprising (GRIT Sector 1 Book 2)

by Rebecca Sherwin

  “Put it on.” I couldn’t see what she mouthed back as I looked away for a second to enter the office, closing and locking the door behind me. “Just put it the fuck on, Ashford.”

  She jumped at the icy chill in my voice and took another step into the room, until she arrived at the garment hanging from one of the beams used to chain criminals to before the torture began. She caressed the black material and ran a finger over the slashes filled in with nude lace. The bodice looked like someone had taken a knife to it, and only left enough material to cover the bare necessities. She’d have to take the corset off, and the idea of her no longer being held captive by whalebones made me growl in annoyance. I liked her trussed up and uncomfortable. But I wanted to ease her suffering. I wanted her to breathe deeply for the first time all day. I shook my head, stabbing the heel of my hand to the bridge of my nose to clear the fog of confusion. The dress would cling from waist to floor, leaving little to the imagination in lieu of hugging her curves and drawing attention to her figure. I didn’t want anyone’s eyes on her but mine…this dress was guaranteed to make me want to kill. The lace and black silk would keep her in limbo between history and present. The collar would drag her into the past, and the events of the night would thrust her back in time. I hadn’t chosen the dress. Ruby had. I wished I’d taken control with that, too; I would have chosen something modest. Wouldn’t I? Wasn’t it the thrill, the urge to kill, that got me off? I shook my head again and halted at the end of the corridor where I’d told Trixie to turn left. Glancing down at my phone, I saw she hadn’t moved to put the dress on. I growled, but bit my clenched fist so she wouldn’t hear me as I moved closer.

  “You were just one step away from a reward,” I rasped as I stood in the doorway.

  Trixie jumped and turned to face me, pressing her hand to her chest to contain the fear.

  “Elias…”

  Raising my hand, I closed my eyes, allowing her utterance of my name to ring in my ears. It was fucking heaven against the hell burning me beneath my clothes.

  “So. Fucking. Close.” I groaned in conflict. “Why couldn’t you just put the dress on, Ashford?”

  She chewed her bottom lip, her brow furrowing. “I’m wearing a corset.”

  “And that’s reason enough to disobey?”

  “Stop.” She fisted her hair. “Please, stop.”

  I would, of course. Because I needed it. Because once we’d both been satisfied, we could try and not want to tear each other to shreds tonight.

  “Turn around, Ashford. Place your hands on the wall.”

  She did as she was told immediately, and my cock wept in hallelujah when she pushed her ass towards me. Her back was ramrod straight, matching the steel hardness of my cock as I pulled it free from my underwear and took a step towards. Perhaps after an explosion, I’d be able to zip up my trousers. Perhaps…unlikely to be sated, though. I growled, silencing my internal monologue and grabbed Trixie’s hips. I’d calculated perfectly; when I shoved her back into me, we collided with my cock resting heavily against the crack of her ass.

  “I want to take you here,” I said, rocking against her, just once, wishing I could bury myself in her ass until it tore us both in two.

  “So take me,” she breathed, looking over her shoulder at me with smouldering need in her violet eyes.

  Shaking my head, I spanked her lightly. She yelped.

  “No time. You wasted too much arguing with me.”

  “But-”

  I spanked her again. She sighed and moaned and flexed her fingers against the stone.

  “Keep arguing and we’ll run out completely. Do you want to be left like this all night?”

  “No. Please, no.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “I want to come, Elias.” She groaned as I ground against her again, reaching between her legs to pinch her throbbing clit through her underwear. “I want you to make me come.”

  I rolled my eyes and swallowed hard. Those words were my undoing. I tore at her underwear, snapping it away from her body and tossing it somewhere behind me.

  “Don’t look at me,” I said, curling two fingers and easing them into her. “Jesus, you’re soaked.”

  “I need you,” she whimpered, clenching around me in a hot plea for relief.

  “You have me.” I fisted the base of my cock and stroked myself between her folds. Her legs parted, but I snapped them closed again with my feet. I could thrust between the gap in her thighs then, and now she’d fucking strangle me when I impaled her. “This will be quick, baby. We’re all out of time. Don’t look at me, don’t touch me…just feel me.”

  She moaned, low, throaty and tight as I nudged her entrance, thrusting just once to sheath my cock in her wet heat.

  “Oh God,” she cried as she clamped down on me and drew me deeper. I wanted to shove her body lower, force her back to bow, but the fucking corset was in the way.

  “Fuck,” I growled, tearing at the knot. It creaked and ripped and broke away completely, leaving the frayed ends dangling over her plump ass cheeks.

  I smacked once, groaning when she rippled around me.

  “Trixie,” I chastised, holding her still when she pushed back.

  “I can’t help it. Please…please make me come.”

  With another growl—I was lamenting like a fucking animal—I ripped the string out of the holes at the back of the corset, my cock pulsing every time more of her milky skin, marred with red tracks and indents from the whalebones.

  “Do you have any idea how much I want to keep you tied up?” She shook her head, but I held her still. The simple act of her drawing a breath made my cock weep. She needed to keep the fuck still. “I want ropes cutting your skin, leather burning your flesh, metal digging into bone.”

  “Do it,” she challenged, throwing her head back. “God, do it!”

  The corset fell away, but I held the string between my hands as I pulled back and rammed back in. Trixie’s breath hitched and she parted her lips, but no sound escaped. She was lost to lust, calling for me to lose myself with her. With a groan and another thrust, I tossed the string away, to save for another day. I would have Trixie tied up and at my mercy, but unfortunately, other activities called us tonight.

  “Shut up.” I picked up the pace, grabbing her hips and driving into her again and again, until her cheek pressed to the stone and I imagined the skin grazing as I scraped her against the stone. Wrapping her black threads around my fist, I pulled her head back, finally able to bow her back. She couldn’t arrive with scrape marks. Another thing to add to the to-do list. “Shut up and take me.”

  She nodded, forcing me to pull on her scalp and I lost control, driving into her until she was screaming, thrusting deep and watching every inch disappear inside her tight dripping cunt, forcing my body to obey me until hers did.

  “You’re fucking choking me,” I groaned, squeezing her ass in my hands to soothe the burn after another spank had left a handprint so red, I swear I saw my fingerprints brand her flesh. “If you don’t give it up soon, I’ll come and you’ll be left unsatisfied.”

  Reaching behind me, Trixie grabbed my wrist and guided it towards her ass crack. I shuddered, with one slam so hard, I thought my balls would leave my body. I knew what she wanted. Could I do it and hold back from fucking off the event and spending the night stretching her ass? The temptation was strong. Bending over her, I swiped my thumb over her bottom lip and nipped her ear.

  “Is that what you want, baby?” I whispered, holding her still to feel every inch of my cock as I slid in slow and deep. “You want my thumb in your ass to get you off?”

  She nodded and her throat worked on a swallow against the collar. Jesus, I wanted to pull on it and choke her, but I had to remind myself it was exclusive. It was invaluable. It was her. If I broke the collar, I knew I’d snuff out my fire. The necklace was a test on myself, a challenge, a reminder to never let go.

  “Yes,” she breathed and mewled as a ripple took over her core and s
he prepared to build. “Please.”

  “Your wish is my command, Lady Blackwood.”

  “Thank you, Master Blackwood.”

  Fuck her. Fuck Trixie. Fuck GRIT. Fuck the underground. Fuck the fucking world. Switching out of human-mode and into fugitive beast mode, I spat on her, watching it trickle down her ass. Gathering it up with my thumb, I twisted against her hole, massaging frantically, preparing quickly. I wasn’t all that fussed if I hurt her. I just wanted her to be able to walk tonight to avoid questioning glances and the emergence of rumour. I shoved my thumb inside her, feeling her body tear open as her pussy squeezed me in a death grip.

  “Jesus fuck,” I roared, gripping her hip and keeping my thumb inside her tight hole as my body picked up pace.

  She climbed instantly, joining me in the race. Soon our breaths became one frantic huff of ferocity. Our moans became a symphony of deviant delight. Our skin collided, our sweaty bodies stuck together; Trixie’s sopping wet cunt held me captive, while I claimed her with my thumb in her ass, my cock inside her and my hand in her hair to pull her into me.

  The first ripple of her core caught me off guard and I knew she was close. Bending my knees, I thrust upward and she screamed, detonating, exploding, tripping out on her orgasm as it tore her apart and her entire body trembled. With a roar, I spilled myself inside her, finally allowing the stress of the last twenty-four hours to leave me, fill my wife, and leak from her to trickle down her thighs. I hadn’t intended to come inside her. I loved watching my cum brand her skin. But now she would think of me all night. She would smell of me, and no fucking animal would dare come near her with my scent marking her with a warning. I would wear her on me, she would wear me on her, and her hand would remain in mine all night like my cock wanted to be. Trixie convulsed as I eased out of her, and I shuddered as I shoved myself back in my pants, my rebellious cock refusing to soften as I forced it back in its cage and zipped my trousers up.

  Trixie swallowed and panted, using the wall to help her stand to an upright position. Now I would be gentle. Now I would be tentative. Now I would let her have her normal reward—although offering a reward at all didn’t seem all that conventional to me. Now I would give her what she needed to stop her tearing her soul from where it was tethered to mine.

  “Did you bring a handkerchief?” she asked as I kissed the tip of her nose and reached for the dress.

  “What for?”

  “Um…”

  She looked away, embarrassed as I crouched in front of her with the dress in my hands.

  “Oh, for this?” I swiped my hand up the inside of her thigh. She spasmed against me but stood still as I gathered some of my trickling cum. “Oh, no, baby. I forgot to arrange perfume. You can wear me instead.”

  “Like this?”

  “Like this. Like the juice from your cunt is drying on my cock as we speak.”

  She whimpered as I held my hand towards her. Grabbing my wrist, she took the cue, sucking my fingers into her mouth to clean me.

  “Good girl,” I whispered, kissing her thigh before holding the dress open for her. “Step.”

  Using my shoulder for support, Trixie placed her legs in the dress and as I sheathed my wife’s body inside its prison for the night, in all of its naked and cum-covered glory. She’d be ready for bedtime all night. I’d enjoy cleaning every inch of her later, beneath the bedsheets, showing her how much I loved her and how I was sorry our love had to be this way.

  My body ached.

  My mind smarted.

  My soul felt shattered.

  I was exhausted. I didn’t want to leave the estate in a dress that felt so alien in its smoothness after hours choking in a medieval contraption known as a corset. My backside was sore; I felt deliciously stretched and used and satisfied, and yet something niggled at me. Elias and I had reconnected. He had dressed me like a loving husband. He had combed fingers through my hair and pinned the sides behind my ears to keep it out of my face. He had handed me a small vanity bag and mirror to apply some makeup. He had kissed me, so sweetly, so powerfully, so reverently, it almost brought me to my knees. And he had led me out of Sector 1, along the back corridors to an exit that led to a patch of woodland where Percy waited with the car. He had thought of everything. He had planned down to the second and now darkness had fallen, he had arranged for The Plough to take us to our destination.

  Percy tossed Elias a key and a fob, which I assumed was what activated the armour. Elias caught them with one dexterous hand, never tearing the other from where it held mine until my heartbeat throbbed in my fingertips.

  “Your carriage awaits, m’lady,” he said, opening up the passenger door and gesturing for me to enter.

  He’d said that the night we’d met. Before he shut me out and this journey began. Accepting his hand, I allowed him to lift me into the car and settle me in the plush leather seating of the once-was Range Rover. Elias kissed my cheek, making me gasp in surprise at his gentleness, before he shut the door and walked around the back of the car to get in the driver’s seat. When he was settled and had secured me with a five-point harness, he fixed the fob to a compartment on the dashboard and pushed the button. The reinforcement clicked into place; shutters fell on the windows, locks snapped closed, and cages fell over the windscreen and rear window.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded and took his hand as it settled over the gearstick. He raised his thumb and hooked it around my pinkie, in a sweet but possessive hold.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Ashford House,” he rasped, slamming his foot on the accelerator and tearing through the grass until he found the path.

  My head shot back in the seat and my back pressed flush to the leather. Elias drove like an animal, with no need to look or observe or assess. He drove like a ram, battering through anything in his way. If you were in the path of Elias Blackwood when he was driving, it was your own fault. He accepted no fault, only absolute in his need to drive like a maniac on speed.

  Ashford House. He’d threatened to take me there the night we met, too. He hadn’t done it, but this time it was planned for. I hoped it would have a better outcome. I hoped it wouldn’t leave me lost and confused. I hoped the grand affair that meant I had to dress to impress, with Elias dressed to kill with one flex of a bicep, that we could look forward to an enjoyable night with our family.

  Of course, I didn’t see it coming. Did I ever?

  “Trixie.”

  The family met us on the porch lit by torches either side of the front door to bathe the entrance of the house in a warm, welcoming light.

  Mae took me into her embrace first, allowed to connect with her daughter after months of no contact. I felt tears pool my vision, but Elias’ hand on the small of my back, even while I hugged my mother, kept me grounded. Mae held my face in her hands and smothered me in kisses. It was unexpected but not unwelcome and I smiled until she freed me and the strong arms of my father banded around me.

  “Hello, princess.”

  “Hi, Daddy,” I said, wincing as I waited for reinforcement. None came. Nothing but a tight hold and comforting scent of home.

  My other home. My present and future home still held on to me, refusing to break contact.

  Music played from inside the house, followed by differing smells of food, drink and people.

  “What’s going on?”

  Richard glanced at Elias. There was something he hadn’t told me. I turned to my husband as a smile ghosted his dangerously devilish mouth.

  “This is the recruitment ball, Ashford.”

  “Trixie!”

  Ruby’s frail quivery voice called me before Elias could answer and I stepped away from him, running to her, suddenly desperate to thank the woman who had healed my feet, put my life into context and, actually, brought me to life. Her choices and decisions had given me Elias and I had never been more optimistic that we would do this. I wore his promise as a collar around my neck.

  Fire.

  “Grandma,”
I cried as I bent to hug her. I cried into her neck and her wrinkly hands combed through my hair. “I missed you.”

  “Now, now, darling. No tears.” She eased me back and took my hand, raising it to her lips. “I missed you, too. But tonight, we party.”

  Oh, yes. Recruitment ball.

  “What’s the recruitment ball?” I asked, glancing back at my tight-lipped husband as Ruby led me to Ashford House’s dining hall.

  The recruitment ball was exactly what it sounded like. It was like the Olympic sorority games.

  It was the initiation into GRIT. It was a recruitment process. I'd seen TV footage of conferences as close as just north of the barricades, but nothing like this. There was no panel lined up and sat at a table on the stage. There was no comforting light to keep everyone awake while someone droned on about the benefits of working for a particular employee. No; just like everything else, GRIT had its own way of doing things. The recruitment ball was a banquet; the dining hall of Ashford House had been converted into a banquet hall, complete with dressed round tables to seat ten people; soft music playing from speakers, staff who cleaned the house by day dressed in black suits carrying silver trays of champagne and hor d’oeuvres. It wasn't unlike our wedding reception. The hall held the cool chill of history, with warm hints of a warped present. I spotted every member of our family, cousins and uncles, and faces I didn't recognise.

  "What's this in aid of?" I asked as we walked around the room and Elias plucked two champagne flutes from the tray, bubbling with bursts of energy, slinking around the glass like gold.

  "For lack of a better explanation, it's to replenish stock," he answered matter-of-fact. "It shouldn't be a surprise that we lose men. We lose good, strong and loyal warriors who are devoted to the cause."