The Book of Red: ISAK & Red and bonus prequel Used

by Cari Silverwood

  I kneeled on the tiled floor and put my hands on the first of the timber steps.

  The loud rev and roar of an accelerating motorbike reminded me of the black gloves that man wore. Bikers might network, when they weren’t killing each other.

  They might.

  Isak gave my butt a nudge with his bare foot, cunningly using the front of his foot to edge the dress material between my legs, before lifting me, a little, off the floor. “Go. At the top, expect punishment.”

  Whatever. He didn’t want to know, and I could not talk.

  I crawled slowly, growing ever more aware of how he followed, like some creature stalking behind wounded prey, and also growing ever more aroused. For once, I was unsure how much of this reaction was from the mesmer in him, and how much was simply me.

  Would I have reacted like this before I met Isak?

  Maybe not. Being watched and stalked, by a large, determined man who wanted to punish me should not do this, I berated my stupid self.

  My body and my stupid libido were not listening.

  Being more aware was beginning to feel like a glitch in the system.

  At the top, he walked around me to the bedroom, then returned with a black roll of tape. “Strip.” I pulled the dress off again, still kneeling because we both knew I wasn’t allowed to rise.

  The intense gleam in his eyes was riveting. His finger crooked.

  I had to own up to my own perversities, my craziness, if you will. I wanted this even if it was due to habitual abuse. I reasoned through this. The many orgasms might set up an avalanche of kinks, a trained reaction of need. I crawled closer, aware of him watching the sway of my breasts and my body.

  “Hands behind you.”

  Then he walked around me, and I heard the tearing sound of the bondage tape being unrolled, felt it wrapped about my wrists, fastening them firmly together.

  I’d shut my eyes by then. My reaction had been automatic and shameful – anticipating the rush of being trapped, my throat had closed in and my nipples ached.

  This was not mesmer; it was me.

  When had I begun to like this? When? How could I like this?

  Pick a day, a year. I was Pavlov’s bitch. This was so fucked up.

  A metal device hung in his hands when he returned to my front, and I recognized it instantly – a clothes hanger with the clips at the ends.

  Isak leaned down and settled onto one knee.

  Enthralled, breathing more than a little shakily, I watched the approach of his mouth. He wrapped a hand under my breast, and his head turned as he targeted my nipple.

  One lick, then another.

  The pleasure unfurled, slowly building. He sucked at them, one then the other, almost delicate, before he gave each a final suck, as if to be sure of the taste. That soft kissing sound as he let go of my flesh with lips and tongue… God.

  I inhaled, held it. My clit had popped out, engorged.

  Then… just as enraptured, I watched him open a clip, approach me, and apply it to the nipple he had caught with finger and thumb. Though I squealed, he did the same for the second nipple.

  I tensed and wrapped my fingers hard against each other behind my back, twining them together. A shift of my bodyweight made my breasts feel the weight of the hanger. They throbbed with an angry, biting pain.

  Mouth open, I panted through the mounting sensation. It seemed to lessen before it grabbed me again. The look of those clamped on each side… My teeth anchored in my bottom lip.

  I couldn’t reach around and free myself. Which, I loved. I did.

  Fuck me.

  “Well now.” Isak brushed a finger across the upper curve of each breast. He straightened and stood, admiring his work.

  I tilted my head to meet his gaze, and we both knew that this, this, was something he’d made me enjoy. Not so much the pain, but the being ensnared by his doing. This was mesmer and dominance rolled together, and so screwy I wasn’t sure which way was up.

  “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’d forgotten. I’d lost this. This…” He rubbed his chin, and I let my eyelids flutter down a moment.

  “Open those eyes. Let me see you.”

  They snapped open for him. Mesmer.

  He weighed each breast in a hand, holding them firmly, gently brushing the parts of my nipples he could reach between those biting clips.

  I wriggled on the spot, writhing my ass and squeezing in below, aroused so direly I need to be fucked then and there. I whined, embarrassed even as I did so.

  He chuckled. “Hmmm. Up.”

  With one hand, he helped me rise and drew me to the sofa armrest, where he perched himself then pulled me stomach-down over his legs. With my wrists bound, I had to rely on him to stop me toppling straight to the floor.

  “I should have caned you, tied to the balcony railing.

  “With these tits tied to a weight, and you screaming.

  “I should have made you bleed.”

  He flicked at the coat hanger reminding my nipples of where they were. When I squeaked, his fingers slipped between my legs and played there awhile before he delivered a slap to my ass.

  Then he probed at me, circling my clit, my entrance – toying with me.

  “You’re wet, of course.”

  I whimpered and tried to get those fingers inside me, which seemed to remind him of his purpose. He slapped my ass again, harder, jolting me forward and making that coat hanger swing.

  “So fucking wet.” His groan was accompanied by his large hand smoothing over to my spanked ass then tracing what felt like random lines on it.

  “How did I not know the miracle of your butt? How red it gets. How fucking nice it is to stick my fingers in your wet cunt while you’re over me.”

  His conversation seemed with himself more than with me, and I scowled, aroused greatly and not caring to decipher what he meant.

  He stuck several fingers in me, slid them in, revolved and plunged them in and out, holding me down as he did so. I felt him caress my wrists, tracing the edge of where the tape held them, then he whispered those wet fingers up my spine.

  A few nips on my shoulder made me jerk and woke me from arousal. The little sharp pains made me want to slap him, and I squealed in protest.

  “You will help me,” he said quietly to my ear, kissing me there.

  With what? Oh. Be human.

  “Why?” Somehow, I had managed a coherent answer.

  “Because…” He kissed and bit my nape, rammed fingers into me. I arched, gasping. “I’ll let you come.”

  Oh god. I swear my pussy clenched onto his fingers even harder. “Not enough. Not after… everything.”

  The past had avalanched in. The aberrant humiliations, the sharing, the dismissal of me as anything but a fucktoy.

  Too much had happened.

  I shook my head, trying to shake sense into myself, despite the raging, rising heat and pulse of an imminent but not-quite-there orgasm. Despite lying over his lap, bound and helpless. Mesmers did not need g-spots. His several fingers sucked in and out, pumping a slow and distracting rhythm.

  Opening up my pussy, forcing in, pulling out, stickily… shoving in… the coat hanger on my nipples jumped and swung… the fingers withdrew.

  “Convince me.” I choked at the next thrust, swallowed then spoke. “Why?”

  “Because it’s right. It’s what I need. I don’t want to be what I was.”

  A fucking monster.

  “You’ll free me, afterward, if I do this.” Exactly what this was seemed hard to explain.

  There could be no contract, no writing on paper.

  I knew, though. I knew. I’d figured it out. He could make me want him, orgasm, crawl, but he couldn’t make me do mathematical equations, or philosophy, or make me create humanity in him. That took something more than what a mesmer could command.

  His fingers stilled, leaving me aching. I groaned at the presence of him inside me, even in such a limited way.

  I didn’t want to be a fucktoy? Oh sure.
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  “Red…” He sounded exasperated. “Okay then. I promise I will free you, after. Until then, if I want to fuck you, I will. Any which way I want to. Now shhh.”

  Apparently, he thought we now had an agreement. I wasn’t sure I had signed on the metaphorical line.

  Then he lifted me off him until I stood before him, with his hand about my neck. He gave me one sweeping assessment from feet to mouth, ignoring my eyes. Isak freed his cock by pulling down his pants and letting his erection spring free.

  I had to admit that made me place my tongue between my lips as I imagined what was coming. My feet shifted apart automatically, as if the slide of him inside me might already be in progress.

  Fuck me, please, was on the tip of my questing tongue.

  “I know what you meant before about everything. I know the gist of most of your thoughts, Red.” He released my neck.

  I grunted, brows kinking.

  “I also know that right now you care more about me fucking you than anything else.” Isak rested his fingertip on the crease between my eyes. “It is what it is. Even if I let you go, you won’t be able to climax with any other man. Might want to think on that.”

  His finger slipped down the bridge of my nose to my partly open mouth, where he slid it inside me.

  I moaned then. I sucked greedily on him, and he smiled that goddamned knowing smile.

  “I will always have you, and you know it.”

  I didn’t care. Not then. I was swaying and wanting and craving him, even when he undid the two coat-hanger clips and tossed the thing aside. The pain crushed me for a few seconds, and I bent forward, mind swimming.

  “Here.” He took me by the waist with both hands and lifted me over him, with ease. Then he lowered me onto his very… hard… cock.

  “Fuck.” I hissed as he pushed in, deep, deeper, until sat on him fully impaled and squirming, clamped onto him, feeling my pussy encircle and stretch about the immensity of what felt like an elephant sized cock. It wasn’t, I knew, but it felt enormous – and that’s what counted.

  So perfect – that feeling of cock, new cock, newly invading cock. Cock that was exactly where it should be.

  My legs were opened across his, parting further when he pushed at them. Beneath me, his thighs felt wet and were getting more so as my arousal leaked.

  He kissed me on the mouth. “This is what you need. Right?”

  “Mmm-hm,” I mumbled, craning my head back and grunt-moaning as he pumped himself in and out, using hands to lift me and hold me, and his thighs to shove that cock inside.

  I had words to tell him, I should tell him.

  That man, I saw— It could wait. It had to.

  Fuck. His mouth had latched onto a nipple and was applying just the right amount of devotion. Though they’d been recently abused, the rasp of that soft tongue slew me.

  He sucked on both my tits as he rocked and rammed at me. The first orgasm hit and went on forever, my muscles rigid as the fury of coming filled my head and body to overflowing. I shook in the glorious rapture of an orgasm and was gasping and limp when he rearranged me over the arm of the sofa so he could take me again, from behind.

  The first thrust slapped wetly in, and he forced my face into the soft upholstery. I turned my head and shut my eyes. God. So— Another thrust rocked me forward, filled me, then another… So fucking good.

  My moans were punctuated by gasps, and by the shift of his hands on me, by the spread of my thighs.

  Later he spun me over, until I arched backward across the armrest and he sucked at my clit until I spun off into more oblivion, arching even higher, with my legs wrapped over his back as if to strangle him and fasten his mouth to my clit forever.

  This day was a thing of wonder.

  The hurts had been just right. The care he took was novel. There might actually be a future where I could survive. I slumbered, half awake, until the memory of the stranger with the black gloves woke me.

  I was half buried under Isak’s limbs on the sofa.

  I struggled upright and he glared at me, one-eyed.

  “Lie down. Shower later.”

  I lay down so fast the sofa shook, but I managed words.

  “There was a man, outside on the path, who was at Ted’s house.”

  He swung himself upright, rubbed hands through his hair then pointed floorward. “What are you doing up here? Down.”

  I scrambled to the floor and felt fear.

  “Tell me more. Why did you not say?

  I opened my mouth.

  “And don’t ever presume to curl up with me like that. Lick my feet while you answer me.” Mr. I-don’t-give-a-shit had returned.

  I bent over and gave the top of his big toe a lick, shuddering as I did so. I had no choice in this, and yet he wanted me to show him the way to being more human?

  Whatever the drug had done to him, it was wearing off.

  “He passed us on the path.” Lick. “The man with the black gloves.”

  “Hours ago then. You fool, Red.”

  “You said not to speak.” I raised my head.

  “You can suck my dick while I think on this. I suppose we should leave. That or kill him.”

  It was too late for killing to do much good.

  “He will have told someone by now – likely Ted.”

  “Yes.” Lips curling disdainfully, he dragged me closer with his hand jammed into my hair. “Make me feel good before we leave.”

  I had set the cat among the pigeons, as the saying goes.

  CHAPTER 6

  RED

  Isak decided to drive.

  I’d seen the pills on the table before we left, as we packed hurriedly, then I watched him instruct the female manager. He had made her open her office at two AM.

  We were never here, never existed. Clean the room, excise all evidence. And then we left, marching out to the Porsche, revving the engine only enough to smoothly pull onto the small internal roadway.

  With the exit gate in sight, a chrome-shiny bike gleamed in the headlights out the front of the final resort house on the left.

  Isak slowed. “That him?”

  I told the truth, of course. “I don’t know.”

  Then, it was as if I could feel his murderous impulses as he stared at the house. Maybe we were leaking into each other’s heads after all these years.

  “Don’t.” I gulped then clutched my seatbelt where the sash fell across my white dress. “Please.”

  His head swiveled to target me. His eyelids lowered lizard-like, his eyes baleful and sinister in the reflected glow from an outside light.

  “Why?”

  To even get an answer from him felt as if the hand of a god was waving me on.

  “Bad karma?” I scrambled for a better reply. “If you’re thinking of getting me to go in and see if it is him so that I can kill him, don’t.” Blink-blink, from him. I took that as permission to continue. “Killing anyone here, we might still get us tracked, even if you manufacture alibis from some woman. Families have seen us. This car is pretty damn obvious.”

  He grunted. “Okay. Raincheck then.”

  Murder later? Phew. I lay back and concentrated on lowering my blood pressure.

  With gravel cracking beneath the roll of the tires, we exited onto the road then cruised away.

  “Don’t forget!” I squeaked. “They drive on the left here!”

  “Crap.” He swung to the left-hand side. “Easier when I command you.”

  So that was how I’d managed? I guess it had worked because I’d not noticed my inclination to drive on the left. I wound the window down and leaned out, breathing the fresh air, maybe hoping to cleanse my soul, at least for a short while.

  The night sky above was black, and stars twinkled like a cheerful Christmas card.

  Where were we going? I glanced at him. “Destination?”

  “Wherever looks good. Inland maybe? Australia has long roads and a low population when you go there. Away from the Ted minion.”

  He
was still talking more than he used to. “Are you due for another one of those pills?”

  Asking was fraught with danger. Every time I spoke to him was dangerous, really. It was similar to waving a hand at a shark.

  For what might’ve been a minute he was silent, and I gave up on getting a reply.

  We turned onto the highway, the Bruce Highway, according to the signs. It was a rather ironically casual label. Everything here was a little weird and a little exciting, and I wanted to experience more of it but away from this man. Far, far away. But if he did not take those p—

  “Fetch me half of one from that bag in the back. The black bag.”

  I managed to find the soft bag in the car’s dark interior and brought it to my lap. I unzipped it and rummaged inside until I found something light and rectangular with the rattle of a sheet of pills. Three remained. He had not taken more. One of the little cavities in the sheet had a half a pill inside it with the foil squashed down around the remnant. I gave it to him with a bottle of water he’d left in the central cup section.

  He swallowed it down, Adams apple rising and falling.

  Would that be enough of a dose?

  I could ask? Did I dare?

  Later. After it has some effect.

  Then I fell asleep, rocked by the car’s movement.

  When I woke, we were stopped in a carpark outside a small motel and parked next to a white sedan. A row of cars stretched to either side, and the highway hummed behind us. A lit sign propped high on the one-story building had “Roadside Motel” written on it. If this place had a proper name it wasn’t illuminated at night.

  “This is going to be obvious.” I waved a finger at the car’s red hood.

  “Well, hell. Tomorrow we have a new car then. Several new ones. Come.” He thumbed at his door’s window. “We have to go see the manager.”

  After he hauled out our luggage, he took it to the office, where he had me wait outside. The lights inside flickered on as he entered, and an older, white-haired woman stepped back and held the door open.

  The glazed look on her face was standard and recognizable.

  How he knew that a susceptible woman ran this place would’ve worried me in the past, but by now I figured most women were. I’d let his monster loose was what he’d once said to me. He thought some act of mine had given him more strength… more power over females.