Chained (Caged Book 2)

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Chained (Caged Book 2) Page 5

by D H Sidebottom

Anderson stepped closer to me, steadying my swaying body so Robbie could fill me with himself. Leaning forward, I begged Anderson to kiss me. I wanted his mouth on me so bad that when he refused I whimpered like a spoilt child.

  Yet, giving me something, he unlocked the ankle cuffs and braced the back of my thighs, and lifted my legs around his waist. His t-shirt rubbed against my bare breasts, grazing my sensitive nipples with the rough material.

  Robbie started to move faster, ramming in and out of me like he wanted to grant Anderson his request momentarily. My anus stung, but every stroke of his cock against my muscles drove the sensation higher and higher until my whimpering had morphed into heated groans, and I wrapped my fingers around the chain to counteract the growing ecstasy inside me.

  “Please,” I begged when he drove harder, his fingernails cutting into my skin the more he fought with his own orgasm.

  My mind whirled with awareness and I cried out when Anderson flicked the knife over my right breast. Blood trickled down my belly and I shivered as nirvana hit me head on and propelled me into the realms of incredible pleasure.

  Anderson growled and I choked on a moan when he forced his cock inside my cunt.

  “Fuck!” Robbie grunted as Anderson’s cock slid alongside his, squeezing my muscles around him as I took both cocks inside me.

  My teeth clashed with Anderson’s when his mouth crashed over mine. He bit my lip and blood flowed into both our mouths. The hit of copper on my tongue and the sensation of the warm liquid trickling down my throat captured my breath.

  My throat constricted under Anderson’s hold when he pressed the heel of his hand into the base of my throat and refused me any air. Both men fucked me hard, they both fucked me with a violence that bordered on sadistic, and they both filled me with so much pain that I couldn’t fight against the pleasure that overwhelmed me.

  My orgasm tore through me with so much brutality that the scream that ripped up my throat grazed my voice box.

  Anderson and Robbie roared as their own climaxes shook their bones, both of them thrusting deep within me to flood me with their spunk.

  Blood and cum dripped down my inner thighs as Anderson snapped open the cuffs and captured me in his arms when I dropped to the floor. My body felt heavy and I trembled in his embrace, making him pull me tighter to him protectively.

  Once again, the softer side to him surfaced. He grunted something at Robbie that I couldn’t hear and I felt myself being carried through the house.

  I was asleep before I felt the softness of the mattress cocoon my exhausted body.

  WHY WAS IT THE HARDER we fell, the tighter we held on. To hope. To love?

  Anderson had chained me to him. But those chains were fragile, corroded and brittle. One strong pull and the links would slip apart like paperchains crafted from the clumsy hands of babes. The tears of our hatred were the very things that would weaken those links holding us together, and would in the end break us.

  Anderson paralysed the pain inside me by giving me the pain on the outside to focus on. He took the numb parts that haunted me and he bled life into them. He compelled me to feel the very things I had fought to forget for so long.

  And now I had felt them, the pain and the pleasure, the overwhelming sensations that had engulfed me, I couldn’t imagine never feeling them again.

  I had banished the truth of my life from my head for so long that my mind had forgotten they were there. My mother. Rape. The thump in my chest when the darkness started to seep into my nerve endings.

  My fragile state of mind, at the age of nine, had blocked out the horrors that could, and would, send me insane, and they’d been locked down so securely that they had been buried under lies and fantasy.

  Anderson had forced them free. And now Samantha once again had her say in my head, the real visions of my past slaughtered me over and over again.

  I was struggling to breathe under the panic that crushed my lungs.

  “Breathe, Kloe,” Anderson urged, the beautiful sight of his face blurring under the fog clouding my vision. His hands gripped mine hard, demanding that I feel him, feel something to break me out of the hallucinations plaguing me.

  I had woken not seconds ago, a nightmare ripping through my mind and sending me spiralling into a fit of terror.

  Brian’s laughter, joined by the cruel sneer of my mother, taunted me again and again, the scorching heat of my tears branding a route down my damp cheeks.

  “It’s just a dream,” Anderson soothed as his hands framed my face and he forced me to see him. “Just a dream, little wolf.”

  That goddamn stupid pet name slipped rage into my bloodstream and I angrily lashed out, the fright in me needing to find a quick outlet. “I’m not your fucking little wolf,” I spat. “I’m not, you stupid cunt!”

  I gasped, my neck snapping as Anderson’s palm struck my cheek and my face flung sideways. The sharp sting cracked the shell that was capturing my sanity and a sob ripped from me.

  As if he wanted to play games, his brisk anger at my outburst vanished and he pulled me across and onto his lap. His arms enveloped me protectively as he very gently started to rock me.

  “Shh,” he breathed into my hair. “Calm down.”

  I clung to him like he could save me, as though he could change my past and give me a different life.

  “I’m sorry,” I hiccupped. “I didn’t mean that.”

  He nodded. “I know, just as I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Once again I was perplexed by his differing moods. Anderson did mean to hurt me, to such an extent that he would be the very last person my eyes would ever see. “But you do, Anderson. Over and over.”

  He didn’t answer me, choosing to stay silent and not grant my confusion clarity.

  “What was your dream?”

  I stiffened and he turned me so I was still on his lap but facing him. It was still dark outside and I found myself in Anderson’s bed. I’d passed out after both Anderson and Robbie had fucked me into oblivion, and as my vision cleared I couldn’t help but smile softly at Anderson’s messed up hair and the crease created by a wrinkle in the pillow that ran down his left cheek.

  Tracing the sleep induced mark with my finger, I sighed. “This,” I whispered. “This is how I want to picture you forever. You have no barriers up. You are you, free from the obligation you force on yourself.”

  He stared at me but didn’t make to move or push me away.

  “This is the real you, Anderson Cain.”

  “And which is the real you, Kloe Grant?”

  Smiling again, I ran my thumb over his eye, wiping the tiny amount of sleep that had collected in the corner. “The real me came to say hello last night.”

  His brow creased and he sighed as if he had expected my answer but refused to believe it. “I’m not so convinced.”

  “Well you should be. I’m not sure how I can make you believe me.”

  He drew both his thumbs across my lips, smearing the dampness from my tears that had gathered into the flush of my cheeks. “Tell me what you felt last night when I cut you. When both Rob and I fucked you.”

  Thinking about how to describe it, all I could say was, “I felt free.”

  A shadow seeped into his eyes and he blinked it away. He nodded abruptly and lifted me off his knee, gently settling me on the bed. Without another word, he strolled out of the room, leaving me staring after him.

  I couldn’t understand what I had said wrong. I had been as honest as I could, sensing it was important to him. Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe my reaction to what happened last night was ‘wrong’.

  Anderson reappeared minutes later with a steaming cup. He nodded when he held it out to me. “Drink. It’s lemon and ginger. It should help settle your morning sickness.”

  Silly little things like that endeared me to him further, the monster that resided in him cowering to the tender man I knew could dominate him if he allowed it.

  “Thank you.” I took a sip, surprised by how much I liked it. “
That’s nice.” I smiled up at him. He was gazing at me, a soft look in his eyes that was a rare spectacle. Not many people ever saw this side to him, but I knew he was the one who never allowed it. Anderson had to be hard to protect himself, to steel himself from the horrors that life haunted him with. Just like me, really.

  He settled back down on the bed, propping himself up on the headboard. Carefully, so as to not spill my tea, he moved me until I was sat between his thighs with my back resting on his chest. We were both naked but I felt as comfortable as if my bare skin were covered in clothes.

  “Tell me,” he ordered quietly.

  I took another sip of the hot liquid and swallowed it down to lubricate my parched throat. “Can we trade? I share with you and you share a piece of you afterwards?”

  He drew a long breath in through his nose, however I felt him nod behind me. His arms came around me, guiding the cup back to my mouth. “Drink. It will help.”

  Doing as directed, I sipped again, relaxing as I felt the warm trickle in my queasy belly.

  “I think… I think it was a memory, not a dream.”

  He remained silent, patiently waiting for me.

  I shuddered and he wrapped his legs around mine. His arms and his legs guarded me and I felt safe enough to continue.

  “I was hungry.” My belly rumbled as if bringing the memory to life, so I took another sip to calm it. “My mother was sitting in an old chair in the corner of the attic, and Brian sat beside me on the bed. He had chocolate and a can of pop.” I couldn’t remember which brand it was, and for some reason that angered me. “He was angry at me.” I blinked, trying to remember why. “I think he wanted something in exchange for the treats. And I wouldn’t…”

  I shook my head, my skin prickling with goose bumps at the realisation of what he wanted from me.

  “Go on,” Anderson urged. “You need to get it out, Kloe. Or it will haunt you forever.”

  I blew out a restricted breath. “I wouldn’t open my legs,” I whispered.

  A faint snarl, the feral one that only Anderson perfected, echoed from him, and his grip tightened further.

  “My mum…” I tilted my head, concentrating on the memory. “She was angry too. But, I think she understood. She was looking at me and I swear I saw the pity in her eyes.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure if that’s a corrupted part of the memory, but I don’t think so. She got up from the chair and came in front of us.”

  I swallowed back the bile that was slowly rising up my throat and took another drink to guide it back down.

  “She dropped to her knees in front of Brian and started to undo his trousers. And she said, ‘Leave her today, Brian. I’ll buy the food.’”

  My chest ached with sadness and I gulped.

  “I ate the food and drank the pop while she paid Brian with a blowjob.”

  Anderson stayed silent behind me as we both tried to make sense of it. I wasn’t sure I would ever make sense of it.

  “Do you think she was protecting you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe she couldn’t cope with my whinging.”

  He snorted, understanding the sick humour in my statement. “I understand how she feels.”

  I gasped, and playfully and lightly slapped his arm. “Cheeky. I’m not that bad.”

  “I dunno.” He smirked. “You do moan quite a lot.”

  I reached over to the small bedside table and placed my cup down. Then turning to face him on my knees, I gave him a mock glare. “You love making me moan.” I winked and his bright smile made my heart stutter.

  His smile dropped when I took his semi-hard cock in my hand. Even soft, Anderson was large and thick, filling my palm with the size of him.

  He sucked air through his teeth and his eyes darkened on me.

  Slowly, I stroked my hand up and down his length, cherishing the feel of him growing hard under my grip. I got him hard. Me. It was my touch that aroused him. My touch that got him off.

  Our gazes locked as I fucked him with my fist, the gentle movement making his jaw drop to accommodate the quickness of his pants.

  “Kloe,” he whispered. “Little wolf.”

  The ache in his voice made me lean forward and press my lips to his. He kissed me, but the previous times our lips had met, the kiss had been frantic, desperate and rough. Yet this time it was soft and gentle, so full of adoration that I couldn’t stop the swell of my heart crushing against my ribcage.

  I moaned faintly when he slipped his hands through my hair and smoothed it through his long fingers.

  My kisses left his mouth and I gently pressed them across his jaw, down his throat and over the hard plains of his chest. The faint dusting of hair tickled my chin the lower I got, and when I ran the flat of my tongue up the shaft of his cock, his grip in my hair tightened.

  “You taste so good,” I murmured, as I teased the head of his cock with my tongue, collecting the gift he gave me.

  He groaned when I sheathed my teeth behind my lips and plunged all the way down. Spit filled my mouth when my throat struggled to accommodate his length, and I gagged loudly when his hands jerked in my hair and he cupped the back of my head, pushing me down until I felt bile coat my mouth.

  Pulling me away, his gaze hooked on the length of spit from my lips to his cock, the wicked gleam in his eyes making every part of me throb.

  “Suck me until I come in your dirty little mouth.”

  Excitement rippled through me and I instantly granted his request, plunging up and down on him until I wasn’t sure whether I should suck up or down. I greedily fed on him, on the bittersweet taste of each dribble of sperm that tempted me to go harder and faster. Water ran from my eyes as I forced him deeper and when I felt his cock swell in preparation for his release, I pushed my finger under his ass and sank it deep inside him.

  He jerked, spewing his cum into my mouth as I gently stroked inside him. His head fell back and I watched in awe as his mouth fell open, his eyes squeezed closed and a silent cry broke from him.

  “And you tell me you’re not a little wolf.” He chuckled when he caught his breath. His smile was blinding, the gratification that now ran through him making him relaxed and open.

  I laughed. “You’re not going to drop that damn name, are you?”

  He shook his head slowly, the mischievousness in his eyes twinkling at me. “Nope.”

  “Well if I’m the little wolf, then what does that make you?”

  His lips curved into the most lethal grin ever and a shiver raced through me. Dipping forwards, he tenderly placed a kiss to my forehead. “It makes me the big bad wolf, baby.”

  “YOUR TURN.”

  Her sweet voice and the sorrow in her eyes angered me. I wasn’t quite sure why but I couldn’t dampen the heat of fury with her soft demand. My emotions were everywhere. I’d never had to think of anyone else, it had only ever been me, and now my life included Kloe – and my child – I was struggling to keep track of each conflicting thought and mood that washed over me.

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands, Kloe.”

  She blinked, jointly hurt and stunned by the tone of my irritation, and most probably my severe mood swing. “You promised.”

  “No.” I took her chin in my fingers and glared at her, tightening my grasp on her until I saw the wince of pain flash in her eyes. “I nodded. A nod isn’t confirmation of an oath.”

  “What are you scared of?”

  I laughed, shaking my head at her naivety. “Scared? Oh, I’m not scared, I’m just not sure how sharing tales between us will make a damn bit of difference.”

  “It won’t make any difference, but I just want to share something, anything, with you. I want to learn, Anderson. I want to understand.”

  “You think we have a connection, but we don’t. I’m me. And you’re you. Romance didn’t bring us together, Kloe, nor did fate. You have these stupid notions that there’s an explanation for everything.”

  “There is,” she whispered. �
��It’s the only way I can explain anything to myself.”

  “Then you’re a damn fool.”

  “Possibly. Yes. But how do you explain what brought us together. Neither of us, to begin with, had any idea of the similarities…”

  “Similarities?” I scoffed. “You mean that we were both fucked and fucked up as kids?”

  She flinched. I hated that I was hurting her yet I couldn’t stop every vicious word that fell from me.

  “That we were both pinned down and bled over cocks and pain.”

  “Stop it!”

  “That we were both whores to the very people who were supposed to nurture us?”

  “STOP IT!”

  She tried to strike me but I grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards me, bringing her face to mine. “Accept it. You’re a whore, Kloe. You have proved that time and time again to me. So quick to spread your legs for me. So easy for my cock to slide inside you.”

  “Why are you being like this?” she sobbed, the quick tears that ran down her face stabbing my heart and making me bleed for her pain. “I know you love me, Anderson. I know you do!”

  “You stupid woman!”

  Her watery eyes fixed on me and the dejection that wept from her engulfed me.

  I took her cheek in the palm of my hand, and finally lowered my voice. “This isn’t love I feel. It isn’t soft. It isn’t romantic. It isn’t soul inspiring. It’s violent. It’s furious. A storm of rage that burns right down to my soul, Kloe. And it hurts. It’s fucking agony.”

  Her gaze on me softened and her lips lifted into a smile. Her reaction threw me, confused me. I couldn’t understand what she found so pleasing in my statement.

  “And you say you don’t love me,” she whispered. “Love isn’t soft. It isn’t romantic. But when it’s furious and engulfing, then it’s the only type of love that’s right. It’s meant to be a rage that devours every part of you, Anderson. It’s meant to be fucking painful. Because it is painful. Love is fucking agonising.”

  I frowned. My throat dried and I struggled to swallow. Kloe looked at me, that fucking smile of hers making her pretty face all the more beautiful. Unable to resist, I took her hand and pressed it to my chest. We both felt the beat as though it belonged to both of us. “You think I have anything left in here to love you with? You think I’m even capable of love?”

 

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