Flame red hair fell to her shoulders, curling around a delicate face with emerald green eyes that appeared too innocent to be real. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but I knew from earlier they were full and deliciously pink. What I could see of her breasts told me they were a small handful, and that goddamn creamy skin exposed by her ripped leggings was driving me wild. It made me want to mark her. Bend her over my knee, rip the damn things off and spank that curvy, pale ass until it was red and sore.
I wasn't like Texas. Or any of the others for that matter. I wasn't holding onto whatever goodness remained in my soul because I knew there wasn’t anything left. If she had been an innocent in all this, it wouldn’t have mattered. She would still belong to me.
Even tired and disheveled, there was a vitality within her that called to the cold, dead heart inside my chest. She was practically bursting with life, the flame of it pure and bright. And I was drawn to it. I craved it. The animal instincts that had guided me my entire, savage life, told me that if I brought that passion to the surface I could bask in its glory in a way that would eclipse even the rush of violence.
Finding out all I could about Rebel and what he was planning would simply be the icing on the cake, and a great excuse to keep her here if anyone asked. Because right then? I didn’t give a shit about him. He could’ve been ten minutes away or drinking pina coladas in the fucking Caribbean and it wouldn’t have mattered.
If his sister was supposed to be a distraction while he moved behind the scenes, she was succeeding. Because my whole being was focused on the fit little red head that barely stood tall enough to reach my chest.
“You made a mistake, coming here,” I said, voice low. My hand left her mouth but her response dissolved into a surprised squeak as I easily threw her over my shoulder, one huge palm closing over an asscheek so firm I had no choice but to give it a tight squeeze. I didn’t try to silence the groan that rumbled up from my chest. Wanting her wasn’t the secret.
How much I wanted her was.
“Hey!” She beat against my back in protest, tiny fists laughably easy to ignore. “I didn’t say you could touch the goods.”
The goods? For real?
I swatted her on the ass and she yelped. “I don't need your permission, Red. Now hush, before I put that gag back in your mouth.”
No one would ever hear me admit it out loud and live to tell the tale, but I found her silent fuming adorable. I was sure that if she wasn't slung over my back like a sack of potatoes, those toned arms would be folded beneath her breasts and those full, pink lips would be curved into a pretty pout. That was something I wanted to see almost bad enough to put her down, but it didn't override the desperate need to have her in my bedroom and all to myself.
I went past the kitchen, giving the plates piled with uneaten food an ugly look. Kane and Saze were on deck for cleanup today. No wonder they ghosted out the doors before everybody else. Tricky bastards.
My long legs took the stairs two at a time, body on autopilot as I wound my way around the halls to my room. It was built into the back of the clubhouse and made twice as big as everyone else’s.
The crown of the king was always heavy but the perks lessened that constant burden.
I kicked the door open and made my way inside, locking it behind me before setting Caitlin on her feet. The blade in my back pocket was out and cutting through her bonds so fast that her cry of alarm was just starting as the tie around her leg snapped off. She scurried away from me, eyes on the shiny metal while she rubbed her wrist. For a moment, something unfamiliar gripped my heart and squeezed. I put the knife away slowly before showing her my empty hands, not even sure why I was trying to comfort her. She was my prisoner. Why did I even care?
Caitlin shuffled as far away from me as she could get before looking around warily. I wondered what she expected to find. Whips, chains, blades?
Fuck that.
Dominance bled from my fucking pores. Saturated every room I was in to the point that grown men refused to meet my eyes. I didn’t need toys to conquer her so wholly and completely that her body only responded to my touch. My kiss. My cock.
It was easy enough to follow the tilt of her head as it swung around the room, moving from the king sized, four poster, black and grey bed that invaded most of the space to the red boxing gloves and golden medals in one corner. But her attention shifted to the last thing I expected her to take notice of. She shuffled over to the far wall and the tall dresser there, hardly paying attention to the documents and letters stacked on top of it.
You already forget you’re pretending to be my downfall, Red?
Like a woman on a mission, all her focus was on the painting mounted above the dresser, and at a glance, it was nothing more than a spiral of different colors looping over themselves and expanding outwards.
“Are these...names?” she asked softly, touching the glass.
I thought I hid my surprise well but I wasn’t sure. No one but other Sinners ever paid it any attention and I wasn’t sure what it meant that she instantly locked onto the one thing in this room that actually meant something to me. A well disguised list of all the people I had lost on my climb to the top.
Was I wrong?
Was she truly my enemy?
Every fiber of my being roared its denial. The possibility of it made me want to turn around and put my fist through the wall.
Then she turned towards me, those too honest eyes confused by my obvious tension, and my uncertainty washed away in the flood of desire that hit me full in the face.
Standing there among my things, apart of my world but not, only made the need I had to own her burn more fiercely. I wanted to see that creamy skin flushed red with desire. Wanted to wrap those red curls around my fist while I plunged inside her. Wanted to feel her pussy milk desperately at my cock as she shattered to pieces around my length.
“You should worry more about yourself,” I said roughly, advancing on her.
She took a single step backwards and paused, stance straightening. “I’m not afraid of you.” Her eyes narrowed and I instantly knew she was gathering herself, bracing for the coming storm. But I was a monster. I owned that shit. And monsters didn’t play fair.
Caitlin was gearing up for a fight. A struggle. But I wasn't going to give her one.
I slowed right before I crashed into her, hands cupping the sides of her face as my fingers gently swept along her cheeks. Emotion played over her features like a slideshow and each stroke of my skin against hers was the remote. That sweet mouth fell open in shock. Her brows scrunched in confusion. I angled our bodies towards the bed, pressing us closer together, and those tiny hands landed on my chest.
Her lashes fluttered, heat shimmering in those green eyes a moment before they closed completely. She leaned into my touch, her soft sigh washing over my skin, and then she sagged against me so suddenly that only a hand racing to the small of her back kept her upright.
Something like fear slithered through me.
Holding up most of Caitlin’s weight, it really hit me how small she actually was. How delicate. And while she was still the most exquisite woman I’d ever seen, that sudden awareness brought more about her appearance to my attention.
She had bags under her eyes. Chapped lips. Now that I was looking with more than my dick, I couldn’t miss the faint bruises marking her arms. A deep rage welled within me and I rubbed small circles against her back to keep it from boiling over. The need to see Rebel dead came roaring back twice as strong, because I was one hundred percent sure now that Caitlin wasn’t a willing participant. That need was only overshadowed by the one urging me to find and destroy whoever had fucking dared to put their hands on her.
“Don’t go.” She whispered the words so softly that I almost missed them, already envisioning myself kicking in doors until I got my answers.
I looked at her sharply, tipping up her chin so that I could stare into her eyes as they slowly opened. For whatever reason, I didn’t even question how she knew the d
irection of my thoughts. “You should be encouraging me to leave. It would be your best, and only, chance to escape.”
Caitlin bit her lip, glancing away. But she wasn’t seeing anything. Her eyes were distant and impossibly sad, fingers tightly gripping my shirt. Whatever she wanted to say, I could feel the indecision drifting from her and I stayed silent, waiting her out.
“I can’t escape,” she said finally, still not looking at me. “I’ve tried. He’ll be out there, somewhere, ready to bring me back.”
My whole body sang with tension.
That evil, no good bastard. I’ll fucking annihilate him. No more casket. There won’t be enough pieces to bury.
“I didn’t know it was possible to feel safe, Creed.” There were no words for what it did to me to hold her in my arms while my name came from her lips. “Not until today. Not until you.”
I shook my head slowly. “Nothing about me is safe.” For a moment, my eyes shifted to the spiral painting and then back to her.
Her eyes were starting to close again while she struggled to stay awake. “I don’t care. Even the devil hides from you. Fears you. There’s not a safer place for me in the world.”
Gently, I picked her up and laid her down in my bed while keeping my emotions locked down. There were too many to deal with and she was obviously affecting my judgement. Because even as she curled up on the gray covers, hair fanning out around her, that soft body completely at my mercy, all I wanted to do was... hold her. Maybe I was losing my touch, because I didn’t understand how we had gotten here when I was supposed to be pumping her for information.
Get it together, asshole. Daylight is burning and there’s still other work to be done.
I was ready to follow my own advice and walk out the door. My back was already turned. But as I moved, I felt the slightest tug of resistance and looked back to see her weakly gripping my shirt, eyes bleary.
“Please don’t leave.”
That unfamiliar squeeze came again, settling around my ribs, making it hard to breathe. It didn’t abate either. Not until I climbed in beside her, holding her back to my front, my arm around her waist. It took every bit of my willpower to bite back a groan when she pushed her ass against my crotch but then she stilled. A few moments later, her breathing evened out. In spite of everything, I found a strange calm settling into my bones as my own eyes closed. Before sleep claimed me, I had time for one thought.
I might be fucked.
CHAPTER 4 - Caitlin
I was living in an alternate reality. That was the only explanation that made sense. The drugs my brother had given me were even stronger than he expected. Instead of knocking me out long enough to tie me up and put me in a vehicle, the cocktail had sent me through some weird wormhole in the fabric of space and time.
Because that was infinitely more realistic than the light, happy feeling floating in my chest and the heavy arm draped over my stomach.
If this is a dream and someone pinches me, I’m kicking their ass.
I opened my eyes, blinking the sleep from them, and nothing changed. Holy hell, nothing changed!
The room was the same, all chrome and black, the bed impossibly soft. My heart was still open and free, the need to glance at every shadow to see if Rebel was lurking in one of them nowhere in sight. There was still an arm slung over me, warm and muscled, fingers splayed over my stomach possessively.
Which meant that this was all real. Including the feeling of safety radiating through every cell in my body, from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. It was a better buzz than anything I’d ever gotten from a fruity, umbrella topped drink. And the person responsible for that feeling was the most dangerous man I’d ever heard of.
“I know you’re awake,” Creed rumbled against my hair, his huge body shifting against mine. A flood of desire surged through my veins, lighting me up like a Christmas tree. My breath caught. My nipples hardened into stiff peaks. A steady throb started between my legs. And that was just with his gruff version of a good morning. Or...afternoon. Whatever time it was.
I put my hand over his, marveling at how much bigger his calloused fingers were than mine. He jerked at my touch for a moment before settling against me and a case of the warm fuzzies set up shop in my belly. “How’d you know? I didn’t even move.”
“Your breathing changed.”
I snorted. “That’s not creepy at all.”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Red,” he growled and I tried to hide my surprise that he knew. “You’ve slept away my whole Monday and we’ve got shit to do.”
“We?” My brows rose. “I wasn’t aware there was a ‘we.’ Pretty sure captives don’t get-” My words ended on a sharp gasp as Creed’s hand swept down my stomach, into my leggings and beneath my panties to cup the soft, wet heat of me.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” His words were hot on my neck, the heel of his palm applying delicious pleasure to my mound. “I own you. And you obviously haven’t realized what that means.”
Creed rolled on top of me, easily pinning me in place with his weight while his strong fingers continued their assault, slipping through my slick folds with just enough friction that it was driving me mad.
There was a savage perfection to his features, the kind of sharpness that made me think tracing his cheeks would cut me but I did it anyway. And when those grey eyes focused on me with a searing intensity that made goosebumps break out across my skin, I forgot all about the danger he represented.
“You are mine, Caitlin.” One of his fingers circled my entrance and I arched my back desperately, breathing erratic. “No one but me will ever touch you like this, feel your hot little pussy dripping around their fingers.”
“More,” I breathed, his filthy words detonating deep in my core. If anything, the circles of his finger only slowed and I hissed in frustration, scratching at his shirt.
“You want more?” he bit out, jaw clenching. “Beg me for it. Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me.”
His lips tipped up, the wicked grin of a monster. Creed’s other hand twisted in my hair, gripping it tight. “I’m already touching you,” he said, pressing down on my clit again.
Lightning struck my insides and my back arched again, lips seeking his in an effort to find something, anything, that would ground me before there was nothing left but pleasure. Of course, the moment I lifted, he pulled, the pinch of pain traveling down my neck, through my spine and right between my legs. It was too much. That quick bite mixing with sweet pleasure. Too. Damn. Much.
“Please!” I cried, hands clawing at his shirt for purchase. “Put your fucking finger inside me, Creed.”
“Good girl,” he whispered fiercely, satisfaction bubbling from his voice. His finger finally, blessedly, slipped inside and my body clamped down on him so hard that he growled, pressing harder and forcing his way deeper.
His face dropped closer to mine, soft lips sliding along my cheek and towards my ear. “So fucking tight.” A second finger joined the first and he stroked my inner walls slowly. Deliberately. I could tell my juices were soaking his hand by the wet sounds echoing in my ears.
“Creed.” I couldn’t catch my breath. My toes started curling. My mind was going blank but for the feeling of his fingers inside me and the hard length digging into my hip. I was so close already, the wave of pleasure about to take me under, but I wanted to come with him inside me. All of him. My fingers went to his jeans, frantically working at the buckle but then he pulled out of me and caught my hands, pinning them above my head.
“What-” I gasped, body clenching painfully at his sudden absence. “What are you doing?”
He pulled back to look down at me and the smile that flashed across his face was pure devastation. My thighs clenched at the gorgeous ferocity of it. That look alone was almost enough to get me off without him touching me.
“I own your pleasure just like I own everything else,” he said slowly, deep voice rumbling. “You come only when I say.” Cr
eed released me and moved away until he was standing at the foot of the bed, eyes glowing with lust as he stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked me off of them. “God damn you taste good.”
I think my ovaries just exploded.
Was he seriously going to leave me like this and expect me not to finish the job? If he thought I was too shy to do such a thing, he had the wrong one. I smirked at him, wondering how long that iron will would last as my hand traced between my breasts and over my stomach. I had just reached my waistband when he shook his head sharply and despite the frustration trying to rip its way out of my skin, I paused.
He flashed that smile again, the one that left me desperate to be filled. “You’re starting to understand, Red. Now get up.” He offered me his hand and when I took it, he smoothly pulled me to my feet. “Lose the clothes.”
“Excuse me…” My voice trailed off at the look in his eyes. If those grey orbs contained a thunderstorm, then I was the dinghy in the ocean getting tossed around by the waves. His desire was so clear I could hear his voice in my head.
Owned by a Sinner Page 3
