Swallow it Down

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Swallow it Down Page 10

by Addison Cain


  A watery drip of what had been left inside her leaked out. Anger morphing back to horror as she looked down as if she might see old semen run its course despite the blanket covering her nakedness. “It’s still coming out.”

  Smelling like the enemy, having memorized exactly how he tasted, Eugenia shivered, clutching the bedding closer as if it might shield her. “How could I be so stupid? He planned all of it. John’s attendance at dinner the same night Brooke returned. Did they keep her roaming the woods until my cycle entered a fertility window? Did the men hide packs on corpses with food and water for Brooke? Leaving a trail to the pretty ship’s lights, struck up to welcome her home… so I might see and be manipulated into giving him exactly what he wanted?”

  Hands before her, Joan shook her head. “You are an extremely intelligent young lady, which is why we both know what you’re saying is crazy.”

  No, it wasn’t. The captain was that smart.

  Confirmed when a roguish viper wearing nothing but a towel spoke from where he watched his script play out. “But accurate.” Glancing to the older woman, he said, “Joan, thank you for bringing her things. Please lock the door behind you.”

  Which the woman did immediately, an ominous click following her exit.

  There had to be a way to outthink this, some strategy on the chessboard before the timer clicked and Eugenia lost her chance to take the king. Yet… the feeling of betrayal?

  Hurt.

  She had trusted Aaron in a really fucked-up way.

  “Good morning, Eugenia.” How normal a greeting. One he had offered her since their first meeting on the ship. Polite, with that cowboy swagger and smirk.

  “This is…” Blinking like mad, calculations running wild in her overtaxed brain, looking anywhere but at him, she held up a hand. “I just need a moment to think.”

  Yet he sauntered closer, the towel dangling dangerously from his hips. “You don’t have to love me back. But you do need to understand that I will never let you off this ship. I can’t. The world doesn’t deserve you.”

  How funny, she could still laugh despite all of it. Though it came out choked in an embarrassingly high pitch. “And you do?”

  Knee to the bed, he proceeded to edge all the nearer. “I gave you six months to come to terms with what we both know I wanted. Six months in which you maintained chastity until you told me, dead on, you were ready.”

  Twisting the situation much? “That is not what I meant and you know it!”

  “Yell at me, brandish those claws, but hear this. Before witnesses, you accepted me. Obeyed when ordered to go to my rooms, to wash up, to wait for me naked.”

  What the fuck did any of that matter? She’d done it for the tickets. “And?”

  “You went.” Spoken softly, simply, as if he was trying to lead her to some preconceived outcome. As if everyone else knew something she didn’t.

  “Jesus, Aaron! Just stop! This is not a fucking game of chess.” One hand holding the sheet, the other tearing at her curls, she felt embarrassingly overwrought. “You screwed me for tickets! I let you do whatever you wanted, did whatever you asked. Tickets you now owe me. And I will get more—from every last piece of shit you have working on your boat until I have paid your imaginary debt. I will deepthroat like the fucking champion I am! And when I get off, unlike Brooke, I won’t ever come back.”

  Drinking her in, the captain took a deep, rib-expanding breath. “We never negotiated a price; therefore… I owe you nothing. Also witnessed.” With a hard look, he added, “Don’t give me that wide-eyed fury. You’ve been here long enough to know how the game works.”

  “You cheated! Which, in the effort of full disclosure, is gutting, Aaron. Well done.” But there wasn’t time to worry over that. Besides, what was one lost night? Virginity aside, she’d get over it, because there was a whole life that still needed to be lived. “You’re not the first opponent who couldn’t win fair and square, and now I’ll make it damn clear before any services are exchanged exactly how much I cost. Maybe I should thank you for telling me before another of them tried what you pulled. I don’t have the time to waste.”

  Calm despite her temper, he shook his head. “Not one of them will touch you.”

  She too could be cocky, flipping her sex-mussed curls over her shoulder. “Of course they will! I’m propositioned for sex more often than I’m offered a hello.”

  As she’d been born annoyingly attractive, men had always embarrassed themselves—either over her hair, her tits, or her face.

  A curse when trying to be taken seriously in academia. A boon in competition of any kind against the straight opposite sex.

  Until now.

  “Don’t get me wrong, siren. Every last one of them would like to. But they can’t.” The captain looked so damn pleased with himself. Railing his fingers down his overly defined abs as if to entice her to see all he had on offer. As if to remind her how good he’d been the night before. “You belong to me.”

  Which deserved peels of unhinged laughter. “You got twenty-something-million tickets sitting on a roll you’ve tucked away for just such an occasion? I mean, if you’re telling me you paid the price, I can walk right off this boat.”

  His grin grew. “Well, the door is locked, so you’re going to have a hard time with that.”

  “You leave me locked in this room and I will bust apart your wood furnishings and use the fragments to start a fire. A spindle, determination, friction... I’ve done it before. And my hands have the calluses to prove it.”

  He shook his head, countering, “There are children and babies on this boat. More than you’d expect. We take them all in, seek them out, and, as you know, create more.”

  Deep inhale, closed eyes, pursed lips exhale. Her lashes flared open, heartrate leveling. “I’ll give you this. I don’t think you’ve ever outright lied to me. That’s not your trick. So get to the point. Describe, in detail, what you intend to do now.”

  “This is the question you should have asked six months ago. But you clung to safety in an ideal—one we both knew was ludicrous—because it was the only thing you had left.” Close enough to touch her now, her sheet, his towel, all that was between them beside a mountain of female regret. “You’re stubborn, you’re smart, and you use anger like a shield, because without it, you’d fall to pieces.”

  Oh, he wanted to dig in the knife, while she knew a thing or two about him. “And you fuck the women as many nights as you can tolerate it, because they degraded themselves to earn tickets, and the burden of the chore should be shared. You’re the real whore on this ship. You fucked them, you fucked me, for pay.”

  “You’re not entirely wrong.”

  “Does it make you feel better to play your part in the show? Those blowjobs where the women try to get you to look them in the eye, where they show off to earn favor? Is it different for men? Is an orgasm just an orgasm?”

  “We made love last night. It was different.”

  “I DID IT FOR TICKETS!”

  “No, you didn’t. You did it, because I’d taken your last excuse away and you were starved.”

  “And you came in me.” The hurt in her voice, knowing her eyes stung and that he could see it… was killing her. “You came in me, Aaron. That was wrong.”

  Cupping her cheek, he used his thumb to wipe the single spilt tear. “Eugenia, honey, I waited six months. You can’t blame me for being unable to wait any longer. I know what I did. I know what I’m going to do. Because I’m starved too.”

  “It all sounds so pretty when you say it that way, but I remember clearly what you said yesterday. You don’t go down to Level 9.”

  “I’ll make an exception.”

  More tears came. “Is it begging that you want from me? You can have it. You already took everything else. Please don’t put me down there. Give me the same chance you give the rest of the women. Let me earn my way off.”

  Pain in his voice, he said, “You think I’d be able to survive watching that?”

&nbs
p; “And why should you get to have what no one else on this ship is allowed?” A fair question, but spoken with rancor.

  Trailing his touch from her face, down her throat, soft over the tops of her breasts, the captain hooked a finger where his sheet covered her, pulling enough to warn that she best let go. “You know why.”

  But she held that sheet. That final, wispy barrier between them. Held tight. “I’m not pregnant.”

  Cocky smile, the male looked right at her kiss-swollen mouth. “We can work on that.”

  With a flourish, the blanket was ripped away, thrown to the floor, despite Eugenia’s yelp and sorry attempt to catch it.

  Hot lips landed on her shoulder, the captain pressing her down to the bedding, pulling at the towel around his hips and fighting his way between her thighs. As if she were wet and ready.

  Which she was not.

  His belligerent, deliberate penetration with that massive, uncut dick burned. Burned enough that, despite her proactive enthusiasm the night before, she hissed in pain. “It hurts!”

  And he too looked pained, as if pressing in so slow, even as she fought to force him out, tore him apart. “I know you’re sore on multiple levels. And you know I’m substantial. Which is why, when this is done, I’ll make it better.”

  “Aaron, please.” Spreading her legs because it hurt a whole lot less, screwing her eyes shut, because no man should look at a woman that way, she whimpered, “You were my only friend.”

  And that was so totally fucked up she didn’t even know how to continue.

  Like a preacher at his pulpit, he gave his sermon, invaded deeper still. “More than your friend, Eugenia. Now, tell me you feel me inside you.”

  It was hard to say, hard to breathe. “Yes.”

  “And I’m going to stay there. I won’t share you with the others. It’s my babies you’ll carry. And like I said, you don't have to love me back, but you do have to stay.”

  He was too much, the intrusion so much more than cock in vaginal canal. It was how he’d worked his way into her routines, her mind… a familiar tear through the walls she’d built. And it was too much to be borne.

  Balls-deep, firmly planted, he whispered, “I do love you.”

  And she sobbed all the harder.

  “I’ll even get you a ring if you want one.”

  She shook her head, eyes screwed shut and aching all over.

  Lips brushed hers. “Accept me.”

  How could she live with herself?

  “I feel you getting wet, so stop shaking your head no. Talk to me and tell me.”

  So he could counter with endless arguments? So he could weasel his way deeper into her guts?

  “Use your words, Eugenia.”

  “Please… I’m begging you not to come in me.”

  His answer was a roll of the hips, his cock dragging awfully until her fluid caught and female lubrication cut the burn. He thrust into her slowly, watching her face as she went through the kaleidoscope of madness that came with mental and physical brutality.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. You feel so good, so right.”

  But all she felt was grief.

  And he knew it, answering her sucking breaths on each thrust with an adoring smile. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll adapt, you’ll learn. The perfect student.”

  Slowly, like his cock sinking into her body, butting up against a fertile womb, it sank in. “I’m going to die on this boat.”

  With that, he came, his mouth open, face twisted in ecstasy. Eyes holding hers through every kick and spurt as he filled her. And then his head fell to her shoulder, where he began kissing her, where he wrapped his arms around her body. Where he said, “Old and comfortable. Surrounded by our grandchildren.”

  “Locked down on Level 9.” This was real. All of it was real.

  Sleepy, he nestled. His too-big dick still buried. “I’ll make you happy. I swear it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ice pack wasn’t optional.

  Stunned from what Aaron had just done to her, in broad daylight, as it were. From all he’d just said, Eugenia lay there and couldn't grasp how it had gone so far. And like he always did, he took advantage. Tucking a pillow under her head. Taking inventory of all the battle scars he could find. Replacing Band-Aids, kissing booboos.

  He even inspected between her legs where his seed leaked free. Seed he caught up with a finger and put back in with a smile.

  Swollen, bruised, he’d told her. But no blood. That last virgin blood had been spilt the prior night, pink smears on the sheets.

  The towel Joan had wrapped the ice pack in was soft, laid between the limp thighs of a defeated woman. Chill cut the throb. But the broken heart under her ribs?

  There wasn’t going to be an easy fix for that aching organ.

  “Do you want your textbooks? I know you like to sleep with them when you’re upset.”

  Turning away from him, legs closing on the ice pack to keep it where it served a purpose, she tucked her face into the pillow. “Knowing you’ve been watching me sleep is really unsettling.”

  “You knew I was in the room.”

  Yes. She had known. And it was nice to have those long silences in the dark where she didn’t have to be alone. Where he never made her talk. Where he rarely did more than sit on her mattress, elbows to his knees.

  Where she’d known he’d left another woman sleeping on his couch or in his bed.

  Covers were pulled over her aching body, and then her beloved books were set beside her hands.

  “Sleep will do you good.” A gentle hand landed on her curls, stroking mussed hair from her face. A gentle voice, southern to the core, petitioned, “I’m asking you not to do anything that might harm yourself or anyone else on board while I’m gone. No fires, Eugenia. Arrangements need to be made, work done, but I’ll be back by dark. If you get hungry, Joan left food in the bags. If you get thirsty, there’s water. All your things are here if you want to unpack. And I prepared a present. Several new textbooks—my personal favorites back from my teaching days—but most are medical in nature. You’ll find them in the cabinet under the bar.”

  She ignored him.

  Buttoning up his jeans, he said, “We can go for a walk on the deck when I get home.”

  Like a dog being let out so it wouldn’t shit on the carpet.

  “Change is never easy, Eugenia, but it’s going to be okay. I promise.” A kiss landed on her forehead.

  And then he was gone, unlocking and then locking the door.

  Dreamless sleep stole in—the kind that keeps the desperate and the broken alive. Sucking fragmented fools so deep they fought waking.

  But a hand jerked her shoulder. “Young lady, that’s enough of that.”

  Groggy, burrowing under the covers to escape the utter annoyance, Eugenia growled, “Go away, Mom. I’m tired.”

  “And you’ve slept enough. Sleep all day and you’ll never sleep at night. So get up.” Off went the covers, the air-conditioned breeze drawing Eugenia into a hissing, sore ball. “You’re going to take a shower while I change these sheets.”

  Brushing matted curls from her face, Eugenia found her wits. “For Christ’s sake, Joan, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Already pulling at the bottom sheet, glaring, Joan said, “You a world of good.”

  That bitch had done enough good already. “I’m tired. Go away.”

  “You’re depressed and moping. And you stink. Go take a shower and cook up one of your creative comebacks. When you’re done, put on the dress hanging on the door and join me for a bowl of strawberries and a shot of vodka. Lord knows I need it after last night.” The woman kept on tugging dirty fabric, as if she’d unmade and remade this bed a dozen times, muttering under her breath, “The pair of you kids both need a hard knock upside the head.”

  It was either get off the bed or be rolled off, so she moved. But she did it with several curses. All the while, watching the muttering woman
continue to castigate both the captain and Eugenia.

  “He doesn’t know you’re in here, does he?”

  “Of course not!” Bob swinging, Joan abandoned her work to glare at the naked woman. “Shower. Move it.”

  Bossy much? “I don’t know what you think you’re pulling—”

  “No! I don’t know what you think you’re pulling, young lady.” Circling the bed to chastise her properly, Joan snapped, “It’s plain as day that you’re as in love with him as he is with you. He might not have figured it out yet, but don’t think you’re fooling me.”

  “Excuse me?” Was this woman off her meds?

  In a broad sweep, Joan pointed to the suite’s bathroom. “Stop sputtering at me and go shower.”

  Fine. Shower, clean sheets, get the woman out of the room. FINE!

  Walking with an embarrassing aching lady-parts gait, Eugenia abandoned the cleaning tornado to hose down.

  Warm water eased hurts. Clean teeth livened the mind. Smelling like herself, and not like the aftermath of too much sex, did help.

  But only so much.

  When the faucet turned off and a towel hit sore skin…

  Eugenia was stuck.

  Stuck staring.

  Apparently, stripper clothes they had by the hundreds, but regular dresses were hard to come by. Leaving her option the same blue dress from months back, bloodstain gone and buttons replaced.

  There was no lacy underwear.

  Which was just fine. Abused skin needed to breathe.

  Red curls wet and drooping, left eye black and swollen, lip cut, bruises just about everywhere, Eugenia looked in the mirror and saw how much older she’d grown. No longer a fresh-eyed girl ready to take on the world.

  Now all woman. One who’d learned that the world bit back.

  Shivering in the air conditioning.

  The door muffled Joan’s holler. “Are you coming, or am I drinking this vodka by myself?”

 

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