The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (+Wicked Bond [5])

by Sawyer Bennett

  And I do... quick and viciously inside of her, planting myself in deep so I can fill her up from this end too.

  Suddenly, my body becomes utterly exhausted. The hours of fucking we've just done becoming almost unbearably too much to comprehend. Cat's body sags underneath of me to the mattress, and I follow right along with her. I immediately roll us to the side and wrap my warms around her. She snuggles into me, wiggling her ass, which is still gripping my dick inside of her.

  I'm content and well sated, and I wonder if when we both wake up tomorrow, we'll still want each other this way.

  I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that as far as I'm concerned, but I have no clue how Cat feels.

  Chapter 6

  Cat

  Samuel's heavily lined face leers at me, hovers over me so close I can smell his breath, which is sour from the rot of decaying teeth. His blue eyes have a milk-like glaze over them because he's mostly blind, but they still see me clearly enough.

  "It's time to pay up, Catherine," he sneers at me before letting out a demented cackle of a laugh.

  I roll hard to my left, so fast that I dislodge something heavy lying across my stomach, but it does nothing to hold me back. My terror-filled need to get away from Samuel fuels me with a burst of adrenaline, and I launch myself right out of the bed.

  Straight onto my knees... where they thud painfully, but then I'm standing up and looking to bolt to the nearest door.

  "Cat... what's wrong?" I hear from the bed. For a split instant, I think it's Samuel.

  But then just as quickly it registers... that rich, deep voice... the smell of sex heavy in the air that is definitely not Samuel's rotten breath.

  I spin back to the bed and see the outline of Rand's body sitting up in the bed, then his legs are swinging over the edge. I can't see what he does, but I hear the snick of the lamp switch as the room is bathed in a soft glow.

  He stands, swiveling his face to look at me. It's filled with concern, even as he's walking around the bed to me as he repeats. "What's wrong?"

  My hand comes up, resting over my chest, and I can feel the mad pounding as I realize I must have been having a dream. I try to force myself to calm down, thinking of Samuel's body lying in his casket so that I remember he's dead and can't hurt me anymore.

  Rand's large hands come to my shoulders, feeling steady and comfortable as they hold me. He's completely naked, yet I don't really see that right now. All I see are his blond lashes framing those green eyes, which are filled with worry for me.

  For me.

  I'm almost lost as to what to say to him because no one ever worries about me. I don't think I've ever had anyone in my life ask me "what's wrong". Maybe a teacher, but I really can't recall a specific instance. Certainly not my mother. Don't know my father. And definitely never Samuel.

  No close friends who fretted over my feelings or safety.

  Not even co-workers where I danced in Vegas had ever asked me if something was wrong.

  Not one person in my life cared enough, and yet here Rand stands before me, holding me steady and asking me a very simple question.

  What's wrong?

  "I had a nightmare about Samuel," I say, my voice hoarse with sleep, but I'm pleased that it's steady with the truth.

  Rand's eyes get soft with understanding. Before I know what's happening, he's picking me up in his arms, depositing me back into bed and crawling in behind me. We lay on our sides, facing each other, and he puts an arm around my waist to pull me in closer to him.

  "Want to tell me about it?" he asks, his gentle voice putting me at ease.

  "I think I do," I murmur, tilting my head back so I can look at him.

  He surprises me by giving me a kiss. Not a sexual kiss but just a sweet one that validates he's here to listen and support me. "Lay it on me, Cat. I've got you."

  And he does. For the moment anyway. Eyes shining with support and a steady arm around my waist. This man who has been nothing in the past to me but a mindless fuck has very quickly become perhaps the nicest person I've ever encountered.

  So I barely stumble over my words when I tell him why Samuel visits me in my dreams. "My husband never had sex with me. Not once in the time we dated, nor in the time we were married."

  Rand blinks at me in surprise. "Come again?"

  I know why he's surprised. Who in the world didn't look at Samuel and me together and not whisper to their friend with judgmental looks, "Well... we know why he married her."

  Everyone thought Samuel pulled me away from topless dancing so that he could have a beautiful young wife who would fuck him day and night and that perhaps he'd regain his youth that way. He was certainly rich enough to get any beauty he wanted, and he was powerful enough in Vegas that no one would dare laugh in his face over the disparity in age.

  But that's not the way it was with Samuel. So I try to explain him to Rand. "I thought when he asked me to marry him that he wanted a conventional marriage. I mean... don't get me wrong... I didn't love him and his money enticed me. I was tired of taking my top off and having men stick their grubby hands down my panties when they tipped me. I saw his mansion and imagined myself living there. I swam in the designer clothes and expensive jewelry he bought me while we dated. I thought I knew what he wanted in return. In exchange for him giving me a stable life, I'd be a wife to him in every way, and I was prepared to do that. But he never did anything more when we were dating other than give me kisses on my cheek and hold my hand. I thought he was old fashioned and sweet. It was charming to me."

  I stop for a moment, trying to gauge the look on Rand's face, because I can't begin to imagine what he's thinking. But he clues me in quick enough when he says, "You were trying to survive life."

  I lower my gaze and can't help the tiny smile that comes to me... because he gets it. He understands me without even knowing me.

  "I left home not long after I'd turned seventeen. Mom was a bitch--an entire story unto itself I'll tell you about some time. Lived on the streets for a while, practically starved to death at times. I learned to hustle and dealt some petty drugs to put food in my stomach. Gave a blow job or two so I could crash on someone's couch rather than sleep outside."

  "Cat... you were surviving," Rand says, arm loosening from my waist and his hand coming to my hip where he gives it a squeeze.

  "Yes, but with Samuel, it was different. It wasn't just survival. I saw a way to better my life."

  "You did what a lot of women in your position would do," he says, his tone matter-of-fact.

  "I married him," I agree. "And after he put that ring on my finger, he made my life a living hell."

  Rand's body stiffens and his fingers dig into my hip a bit. It doesn't hurt, but it tells me he's immediately on edge, so I bring my hand to his chest and lay it over his heart, stroking his skin with my thumb. Then, I proceed to tell him what a monster Samuel was.

  "At first, he didn't do anything. For a few weeks, he sort of ignored me. I moved into his house and had my own room. I started to think that perhaps he was nervous to be with me, or maybe even had physical problems and couldn't, but he was never around for me to talk to about it. And then... well, I got comfortable living a solitary but rich life. I had my own credit cards and could shop whenever I wanted to. I spent hours in spas and salons, having everyone cater to the hotelier Samuel Vaughn's new wife. I thought that was the way my life would be, and I was really okay with that. I mean... Samuel was old and I wasn't looking forward to those duties as a wife even though I was prepared to do it if he wanted."

  "Yeah, I could never imagine you and him together," Rand says with a thoughtful smile.

  I give a small laugh in agreement, but he won't be smiling for much longer. "One day, Samuel sent word to me from his assistant that he was having a business dinner at the house and wanted me to join him. I thought it was awesome. Boredom was getting to me. I thought I could at least be a wife to Samuel in some ways by letting him show me off to people he wanted to impress."

&n
bsp; "I get the feeling this is going somewhere I'm not going to like," Rand says hesitantly. He knows it's bad if I have nightmares about Samuel, and it is bad. Best to rip the band-aid off and all.

  "When I walked into the dining room that night, it became clear pretty quickly that I was what was being served on the menu. There were five of them... all business associates, I think. I heard bits and pieces of conversation while they were all fucking me that led me to believe that. My husband conducted business right there in the dining room while those men took turns with me. He watched from the end of the table and egged them on, encouraging them to do whatever they wanted to me."

  "Son of a fucking bitch," Rand growls as he rears upward. My hand immediately goes to his shoulder, and I push him back down.

  "You need to listen so I can get this all out," I urge him gently.

  "That fucking bastard prostituted his own wife out as a business incentive?" he demands furiously.

  "He prostituted me out to anyone he wanted a favor from," I clarify, and his eyes go darker with rage. "He once didn't have cash on hand to tip a driver he hired to take us to the airport, so he had me suck the driver's dick in payment."

  "What the fuck?" he hisses and again tries to sit up in the bed. I try to hold him back, but he's stronger. Besides, I don't think this conversation lends itself to snuggling so we both come up into sitting positions. He turns to me and braces himself with one arm on the mattress. His other reaches out, touching the tips of his fingers to my jaw as he whispers. "I'm so sorry, Cat. No man should ever do that a woman, much less his wife."

  I give a little shrug and try to make light of it. "It didn't happen all the time. I tried to reason to myself that it was what I needed to do for this 'so-called' better life I wanted."

  Rand's fingers slide from my jaw, past my ear, and then curve around the back of my neck. He pulls me a little closer to him and looks at me intently. "The Silo... that wasn't something you wanted, was it?"

  And yes... Rand doesn't know me all that well, but he does get me. "The Silo is complicated for me, but no... joining was all Samuel's idea. Like I said, he didn't let his friends and associates have me all that often, and what I came to quickly realize was that Samuel got off on watching me debased. Sure... it garnered him favor with his friends, but really... he gave me to those men because he liked watching me suffer."

  "The Silo... you mostly did gang bangs," Rand mutters as his gaze drifts a bit to the side in contemplation. "We all thought... I mean... we just assumed that was your thing. You liked multiple guys. But it was Samuel who insisted on it."

  "Yes," I say simply.

  His eyes come back to me filled with guilt. "I'm sorry," he whispers hoarsely. "I wouldn't have... I don't think anyone there would have done that to you if we knew you didn't like it."

  I can't stand to see him feel guilt over something he had absolutely no knowledge of, so I need to make sure he understands that nothing about me is simple. "Rand... you couldn't have known. No one did. And like I said... it's complicated. There was a part of me, deep down inside, that sometimes liked what was being done to me. Sometimes, I'd be getting drilled by one man with another one waiting and I'd look at Samuel... and rather than see that smug satisfaction on his face, I'd sometimes see a kernel of jealousy. Another man was fucking his wife while he couldn't. He'd sit there, limp dicked and unable to get off on the spectacle, and I swear to God, Rand... I'm not sure if it makes me a monster or what, but that would make me get off. Thinking of that sadist suffering while I was getting fucked raw would give me mind-blowing orgasms."

  "Jesus Christ," Rand growls again, and then he's pulling me roughly into his arms. He wraps himself around me, pressing me into his chest.

  I manage to turn my face to the side so my cheek is resting over his heart and tell him, "It wasn't all bad. All the guys at The Silo were really nice."

  He makes a sound deep in his chest. I'm not sure what it signifies, but his arms wrap around me tighter. "If that fucker wasn't already dead, I'd kill him for you, Cat. I swear I would."

  I smile over his declaration, but I know he doesn't mean it. I'm not worth killing someone over.

  "Is there anything else I need to know?" Rand asks without loosening his hold on me.

  "Isn't that enough to give me nightmares about Samuel?" I ask, sort of tongue in cheek, but also as a means of perhaps avoiding one other ugly truth I'm thinking might be best left untold.

  Rand's silent for a moment, but then he says, "You trusted me with something deeply personal, but I need it all, Cat. How can I chase away your demons if I don't know what they all are?"

  My body goes utterly still, and then a phenomenon happens to me that has never happened before in my life.

  My heart literally fucking melts within my chest.

  I blink my eyes hard to chase away the sting of tears I feel forming over a man I barely know who is telling me he's my champion. It's unbelievable to me.

  "Cat," Rand prompts me. "Anything else?"

  Giving a cough, I clear my throat and pull back so I can look him in the eye. I tell him perhaps the worst of it. "His oldest son, Kevin. He shared me with him quite a bit. Favorite son and all."

  He doesn't say a word to me, but I can feel the fury vibrating off him. Rand's eyes turn practically red and his jaw locks so tight that the muscle jumps violently. But because he has shown he cares for me, and doesn't want to make this more upsetting than it already is, he keeps his silence and merely hugs me in commiseration.

  A hug.

  How novel.

  How soothing.

  I may not have much experience with them, but I'm finding they're warm and secure, and I feel like I could sleep without nightmares if Rand's arms are around me.

  Chapter 7

  Rand

  It's barely seven in the morning. I don't need to open the shop for three hours, but I have important shit to do. I slip quietly out of my apartment, leaving Cat sleeping in my bed. I hope she continues to sleep for hours to come because I know she's exhausted. Not only did I completely wear her body out last night, but also after she told me about that shit with her motherfucking-dead-but-want-to-kill-him-again husband, we stayed up and talked. Eventually, I settled us back down and pulled her close to me. Her body fit against mine naturally, and it felt better than right.

  I may spend a lot of time at a sex club, but I'm not one of these guys with emotional barriers who uses no-strings sex as a way to keep women at arm's length. I'm an actual snuggler to the core. I don't care if it's a one-night stand or the love of your life. After sex, there's nothing better than spooning and drifting off to sleep.

  So tucking Cat into me felt natural. I didn't give it a second thought. I just held her tight and we talked until she could get it all out.

  Have to say, I admire the fuck out of that girl. She didn't shed a tear even though I could hear in her voice how disgusting it was for her to relay that stuff to me. She's tough as nails and it's true what I said... she did what she had to do to survive.

  As she opened up more to me, it practically killed me to hear her own self-loathing for getting herself caught in Samuel's web. I asked her--because I had to or it would kill me not knowing--why she stayed with him, and it boiled down to fear and doubt. Samuel preyed upon the perfect woman for his sick plans. He showed Cat how good it felt to live with the comforts we all take for granted. A soft bed, a warm home. Food in her stomach. She told me he'd often go weeks ignoring her, and during those times, her life was fine. She lived it as she wanted, so she reasoned to herself it was a penance she could handle.

  I thought penance was an interesting word for her to use, and I had to wonder why she thought of herself as a sinner. Personally, I think she's an angel. And while she never came out and said it, I got the feeling that Cat was fearful of Samuel. Not sure if he threatened her, or implied he'd do something, but Cat had said something to the effect of "for my safety, it was best to just toe the line".

  Regardless, our talk ca
me around to The Silo again, and I gently prodded at her as to why she continued to go there once Samuel died. "You were free," I told her. "Why come back to the place he made you do those things?" Where he got his fucking saggy nuts off--metaphorically speaking since he couldn't get his little dick up--watching his wife get fucked over and over again by multiple men.

  Burns me the fuck up. Don't get me wrong... a good gang bang when a woman is consenting and receiving pleasure from the depravity of it all is awesome, but the thought of Cat doing it and not enjoying it... not sure I can handle that thought.

  What she told me about that left me unsettled. Not sure if I'm supposed to feel good or bad about it, but it's weighing on my mind.

  When I asked her why she still came back after Samuel died, she was quiet a moment, and I wondered if she was remembering back to a few nights after his death. She was at The Silo and told Bridger that Samuel was dead. He, in turn, let a select few of us know. We circled her protectively, wondering what she wanted and how we could help ease her sadness. She ended up choosing several men to fuck her--present company excluded. This wasn't all that unusual, as there are, after all, many men from which she could have picked.

  At any rate, she went into one of the rooms that housed a stockade Bridger had built. After she was locked up tight, she took cock after cock with a satisfied smile on her face. It was one of the hottest things I'd seen and I thought she needed it to take her mind off her sadness.

  Turns out... she was celebrating, and she told me as much in answer to the question I had posed.

  "Because sometimes I liked it," she admitted in a soft voice.

  I think she was ashamed, so I validated her. "There's a lot to like about The Silo, babe," I told her in a firm but gentle voice. "Sex there can be exhilarating and beautiful. There's nothing wrong with what we do there."

  I felt the movement of her nodding in agreement. "Many times, I loved it... loved the rush and the feeling of being wanted. I don't fake my orgasms, so you know I'm turned on by much of that stuff. But I also hated a lot of stuff."