by Jaide Fox
The stone made her feet feel like chunks of ice. Her feet ached from the unfamiliar contact. She’d never considered shoes an indulgence, but felt the lack of them now, even more so than clothing.
The leash slapped against her back and buttocks as she stopped and dared a look down another hall, before crossing over into another one.
If she wasn’t lost before, she was now. She wasn’t sure which way she’d come. Every direction looked the same and her pursuers remained quiet, giving her no chance to discern their position.
If the pounding of her heart and her own ragged breathing didn’t deafen her, the fact that she was being stalked silently was enough to make her want to faint. She could feel that she was working herself up into hyperventilation mode but had no way to stop it.
Kittana doubted she would get another chance to escape.
Run. Just keep running, she told herself, willing her body to remain mobile.
Driving hard, she moved down another and encountered the sheet that’d been torn from her body.
She’d somehow made a complete circle.
Stooping, she scooped the sheet up and tied it back around her body.
The move, simple as it was, cost her her short-lived freedom. The fleshly manacle of hands suddenly slipped around her chest, lifting her feet off the floor.
“Caught you! You shouldn’t have run, Kittana. It will be much worse for you now. You’ve made me look like a fool!” Navarre ground out.
Kittana screamed and kicked, scratching at his forearms where they bound her chest and arms against her torso. Her legs flung out wildly. She kicked his shins and knees, but he took every blow with hardly a grunt, carting her back to his room without another word.
The door, she saw, stood open, awaiting their return. He stepped through and kicked the door shut, going into the bedroom and depositing her on the bed.
Kittana immediately scrambled across the bed, feeling him move behind her as the bed dipped beneath his weight. He snatched the sheet off her with the sound of whipping wind and caught her ankle, dragging her back until she was beneath him, her face and chest pinned against the mattress.
She screamed but the sound was muffled. She shouldn’t have bothered anyway. There was no one here that was going to help her. She’d missed her only opportunity at escape, and what’s more, she’d chosen this fate for herself to escape life in prison.
She just hadn’t expected to ever face Navarre again in her life.
The irony!
Navarre sat on top of her buttocks, clamping his legs around her hips to keep her immobile. Her hands were trapped beneath her chest, but even if he didn’t weigh a ton, with his hand clamped around the back of her neck, holding her in place, she didn’t have the leverage or strength to dislodge him from his predatory position on top of her.
She was trapped. Figuratively fucked. And probably literally fucked soon enough.
“I had no idea how resilient you’d become over the years. I should have known better than to dismiss your skills at eluding punishment,” Navarre said, leaning close to speak into her ear.
His hot breath tickled the shell of her ear. She screamed in impotent rage, every muscle of her body tense and straining to buck.
“There’s the wildcat I remember. I knew you would never willingly accept the fate of a sex slave. Perhaps if another had chosen you, you might have, but then, you never thought you would see me here, did you?”
Kittana turned her face away from the mattress, breathing harshly through her flared nostrils. “No!” she grit out, despising the weak trappings of her body and his greater strength.
“You set this into motion when you stole everything from me. How fitting that fate decided to step in to join us together once more.”
“If you say so.”
“I see you don’t find it as pleasing as I do. You will take your punishment as I see fit. I will accept no further attempts at fleeing my wrath. You do not want to cross me again. Am I understood?” His hand tightened on the back of her neck, forcing a response from her.
“Yes.”
He moved ever so slightly and smacked her bare ass. She felt the sting of his palm straight through to her belly. “Yes, master.”
Kittana growled and tensed and received another slap on the opposite side. “Yes, master.”
“Mmmm. Your skin is much softer than I remembered,” he murmured, stroking her stinging flesh.
She remained still, stunned by the sudden caress of his hand.
“I find myself wanting to dole out all manner of punishments to you, but my cock burns with the need to take you. I think I will satisfy myself before proceeding.”
She felt the lock of his legs around her lower hips release, and then he was prying her legs apart, opening the tender petals of her sex to the cold harshness of the air.
Despite her effort to remain aloof and not allow him to see how nervous and afraid she was, she couldn’t help the shriek that escaped her throat when she felt him grab her hips and the head of his cock prodded her pussy.
“You can’t do that! Not now! I’m not ready!” she begged, feeling her body tighten against his impending invasion. The muscles of her inner thighs trembled with the stretch around him.
He jerked her back against his hips, drawing her up off the mattress and leaving her chest against the bed. “Why not? You are mine? Or do you crave tender lovemaking from me, as you once pretended to desire?”
“I crave nothing from you!”
“No, you wouldn’t, would you. You took everything you needed from me once before. I should hurt you,” he growled, thrusting his hard cock against her.
She cried out, fisting her hands in the bedcovers. Her heart ached at the pain in his voice, the sound of bitter betrayal that she heard there. She’d put it there, that bitterness. Now he would give it back to her tenfold. She deserved it. Deserved his retribution like no other.
“Just hurt me. Use me. Make the pain go away,” she murmured, then swallowed hard at her open invitation.
He lifted her legs and flipped her over, forcing her to face him. Shame filled her eyes at the hurt look on his face. “Hurt me,” she said again, willing the guilt that plagued her to go away. If he took that pain out on her body, maybe it would.
Navarre’s face reddened. His jaw tightened, the muscle working there as he gritted his teeth and a vein throbbed on his temple. She’d never seen him look so furious before.
“If you think your capitulation is going to make this better, you’re dead wrong. I fucking hate you, Kittana,” he said, his voice a deadly whisper.
Chapter Three
Navarre took hold of her ankles, hoisting her legs into the air in the shape of a V. Between her legs, she could see his cock, hard and angry and purple, as furious and fierce as his face. As she watched, it grew in breadth and length, looking monstrously huge and impossible for her body to consume. Studded nodules erupted in a spiral around his shaft.
A shudder of fear rippled through her.
“You make it so easy to punish you with your bad behavior. I promised you this would hurt and you better scream when I enter you. Look at me while I fuck you. Don’t you dare close your eyes. You deserve so much more than this,” he practically growled.
As much as he might threaten and growl and promise to hurt her, he’d never done more than she could take. Truth be told, she’d never reached the heights of pleasure with any other man like she had with Navarre. She’d craved the pain he inflicted on her body, for with it came ecstasy so intense, it burned with the ferocity of a volcano.
She’d craved him like no other. Even now, with budding fear at the look in his deep blue eyes and fury etched across his face, she couldn’t help the shivering thrill at being fucked by him. Just the threat of his violent fucking was enough to make her cunt weep in submission.
The moisture fled her mouth and throat, settling between the lips of her sex, already eager to feel his harsh assault.
He spread her legs apart, p
ropping her feet on either side of his neck on his shoulders. Without preamble, without touching her with any measure of love or tenderness, for she saw none of that in his face at this time, he gripped his cock and pressed it against the mouth of her vagina.
Her knees locked, her thighs trembled. She bit her lip, a mixture of fear and desire tensing every muscle in her body.
The mushroomed head of his thick cock bore into her body. His girth made the tender edges of her hole stretch to maximum capacity. She screamed, just as he’d wanted, her hips bucking against him as he thrust full and deep inside her body, stopping only once he’d reached the bottom of her pussy and could go no further.
Brute force bruised her insides. Her channel burned as if being ripped apart. The nodules spiraling his length seemed to leave permanent etching through her inner muscles, causing them to clench violently at his sexual attack.
A look of satisfaction crossed his face as he gripped her hips and ground himself against her sensitive pussy.
She writhed, in pain and pleasure, not daring to close her eyes, willing herself to meet the dark fury of his gaze as he slowly withdrew inch by agonizing inch.
A whimper, part pain, part enjoyment, tore from her throat.
“Suffer,” he ground out, thrusting back inside her with bruising force.
She thrashed on the bed, taking his engorged length to the fullest, feeling him wrack her body with the ecstasy of pain. Her fingers knotted in the bedcovers, desperate to grip something, as if it could hold her back from crying out.
Nothing could. Another scream ripped from her throat, and then he was fucking her like a madman, possessed by an unholy demon riding his back, driving him inside her again and again.
Her hips bucked under his forceful touch. She wanted to hate him for taking like this, for wanting to punish her and make her suffer.
But she couldn’t.
She deserved everything he gave her and then some.
She couldn’t resist the pleasure building inside her any more than she could deny that she still wanted him. That she’d never stopped wanting him, even after all these years.
“Fuck me harder,” she begged, determined to give him as good as she got, wanting him to bruise her insides and imprint himself on her, leave his mark on her body until she could no longer walk.
He growled, furious, leaning low over her body and allowing her legs to slide down until they wrapped around his hips. “You’re not supposed to fucking enjoy this, you bitch,” he ground out, nipping at her throat with his teeth and making her tender flesh sting.
She moaned. Her hands came up and she scratched his shoulders, digging her nails into them until she thought she’d drawn blood. “I love that you fucking hate me, you bastard. Use me like a toy. You burn me up inside. I want you to hurt me. You hurt me so good.”
She knew her words would only serve to heighten his anger, enrage him to a point where he might not be able to control himself around her. The danger of it excited her. As much as she’d wanted to escape him, feeling his cock inside her, burning and stretching and pounding her, she couldn’t help but crave him.
He wanted to punish her, but if he thought fucking the shit out of her and hurting her with his cock was going to do it, he was badly mistaken.
She’d play the willing submissive, if only to goad him into impotent rage.
It was impossible to punish the willing.
Kittana smiled wickedly. Navarre growled deep in his chest. He ripped her arms from around him and pinned her hands above her head with one hand. She pretended to struggle, gasping when he bit her neck again and sucked her—hard.
His hips slapped against her, his cock taking short, forceful thrusts that ratcheted up her desire. She felt her body building to that place he’d take her to before. Warmth spread through her body, pooling in her center, increasing in heat until she thought she would burn alive from the delicious friction he created within her.
She arched her head back, reveling in the feel of his hot, wet mouth on her, the shackle of his hand, the way his other hand reached down and cruelly twisted one of her nipples.
Riveting shudders traversed her body. Her pussy spasmed when she felt him reach the tipping point between rage and release.
He ripped his mouth off her throat, burying his face against her, his hot breath singeing her skin as he breathed raggedly. He groaned, and the sound filled her with pleasure. She felt his cock erupt with fluid, felt him douse her insides with liquid fire.
Kittana screamed, writhing beneath him, unable to stop the chain reaction he created deep inside her cunt. Gasping as he pumped tiredly into her, her channel fisted around his cock, milking him as the orgasm rippled through her insides.
Agony and desire mingled as one, leaving her with almost terrifying feelings of bliss and contentment. Shivers wracked her, pebbling her skin with goosebumps.
Navarre forced himself off of her, leaving her lying on the bed, staring up at him. He looked down at her with disgust on his face. Legs spread, his chest heaving from his efforts, every muscle flexed and rippled. His cock jutted from his groin, still at attention.
The look on his face spoke volumes to her. If she thought one round with him would change the fury in his heart, she’d been badly mistaken. Whatever love had been there had been burned away by hatred long ago.
And it was all her fault.
“I forgot you always liked me to hurt you in the bedroom. I’d thought your perversions were merely a façade you’d played out to get close to me. Now I realize my mistake. I’ll have to rethink what to do with you, Kittana.”
Kittana swallowed, allowing misery and fear to once again rise to the surface. What would he do with her now that he knew he couldn’t punish her the first way he saw fit?
She feared what he would do next but knew wrath was coming, whether she prepared herself for it or not.
***
“Come here to me. Now. Do not make me wait,” he demanded, pointing to the space on the floor at his feet.
Kittana obeyed, kneeling between his spread legs and angry erection.
“Lick yourself off me. I smell you all over my skin,” he said, ice in his voice.
Kittana swallowed hard, moistening her mouth. Slowly, she reached up to take him in her hand. He’d returned the beast back to its original shape, but his cock was no less intimidating for the change. It was still thick and long, carved with deep, pulsing veins.
She grasped him and slipped the head into his mouth. Navarre made no noise, merely grasped the crown of her head and gripped her hair, forcing her to swallow as much as her throat would allow.
She gagged on him and he grunted in satisfaction.
“Suck it off,” he said, pulling on her hair until her scalp stung with the erotic bite of his tugging fingers. The light sting of pain was a heady aphrodisiac to her.
She hated to admit that she enjoyed being forced and dominated. She’d always thought of herself as a pervert, but there was something about having her will obliterated in favor of his own that took the guilt out of enjoying rough, kinky sex for her.
She wasn’t sure of the reason, and she damned sure wouldn’t admit it to him. Far better for him to feel like he had the upper hand than to know she was secretly enjoying herself. Perhaps if he was lulled into believing he’d punished her and won, she’d have another chance at escape. She wouldn’t fool herself into believing he cared anything for her anymore. His feelings of anger and betrayal were too strong to lead her to think otherwise.
The musky smell of their combined scents made her nostrils flare. She’d always enjoyed the perfume of sex, enjoyed the smell of him too. He tasted salty, filling the orifice of her mouth and forcing her to suck him clean of the remnants of their fucking.
Kinky bastard. Kinky bitch.
She had yet to encounter anyone with appetites as rugged and taboo as his.
Swirling her tongue around him, gagging on his length, she felt her saliva pool in her mouth and overflow from her
lips, dribbling down her chin. She knew he liked it messy and nasty and was happy to oblige.
She knew he watched, just as every man did. They wanted to see a woman’s throat work on their erection, see the excess spit, see them gag and choke. It wasn’t a secret to her as it was to most women.
Men could be quite earthy, disgusting creatures. They allowed baser instincts to rule them.
Kittana grabbed his hips, forcing him to fuck her mouth. He groaned with approval, thrusting into her mouth with rapid, short strokes until she felt a tension build in the muscles of his hips.
She knew from previous experience that he was close to coming. He tangled his fingers in her hair, gripping her head as he stroked her mouth. A hoarse groan ripped from his throat. She felt his cock jump in her mouth, and then the spew of his hot, sticky fluid filled her mouth.