Irrevocable: A Sins of Ashville Abduction Dark Romance (Irrevocable Duet Book 1)

by Skye Callahan

  I nodded, even though the tinge of blood still polluted my mouth. “Maybe you should put me back in lock down.”

  “Emilyn gets pissy at least a few times a month. She wants him to get out of the business—mostly to get rid of the slaves. They’ve threatened divorce half a dozen times in the last year.” Kirk tilted his head and snorted. “Like I said, you’re trouble for the both of us. Need some ice?”

  I shook my head. “She didn’t hit that hard—just enough to startle me. I think I bit my lip.”

  Once he was satisfied that the bleeding had stopped and nothing was swelling too much, he took my hand and led me into a walk-in refrigerator, handing me a bottle of water then strapping a cooler over his shoulder.

  In another nearby storage room, he picked up a blanket and handed it to me.

  My eyes widened, “You’re taking me on a picnic?”

  He nodded.

  “Outside,” I breathed. All of the nerves in my body tingled at the thought of being outside. The grass, the sun. All I wanted was outside of these walls. It would be close enough to freedom for now.

  “You run—”

  I shook my head. “No running. I got the message.”

  As soon as we got outside, I wanted to drop the blanket and bask in the sun. Two steps was all it took, and I didn’t care whether we went farther or not. My body felt lighter than it had in weeks, and the air smelled sweet, carrying the scent of spring flowers.

  A long drive wound down the hill next to us, with a large gated fence at the end. But Kirk led me in the opposite direction of the drive, toward a large area of grass dotted with trees.

  “To the outside world we’re a large and very exclusive retreat. It hasn’t been a difficult image to maintain since we screen anyone that we let in. They all know to keep their mouths shut. If they might be a danger to our cover, they don’t get out.”

  I looked around. The grounds were beautifully maintained, but I didn't see a single other person around. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I figured if I entertain your incessant curiosity with information, you might manage to keep your mouth shut and keep yourself out of trouble.”

  “I find trouble even when I don’t say a word. I feel bad for Ross’ wife.”

  Kirk made a sour face. “Don’t. She knew what he was when they got together. She saw money and power.”

  I wondered what Kirk saw, why he got into all of this when he seemed so different from the others, but I didn’t think that’d be a great question to lead with.

  “Do you want a family?”

  “No,” he answered quicker and with more certainty than I had anticipated. “I never considered sharing my life with anyone, definitely not kids.”

  We stopped in a slightly wooded area overlooking a small lake and I spread the blanket out while he opened the cooler, pulling out wine, potato salad, coleslaw, and chicken club wraps.

  Kirk entertained my questions while we ate, even though his attention seemed to be directed at watching the area around us.

  “Thank you,” I said, unsure if it was the wine talking or the comforting feeling of the sun. I stretched out on my stomach across the blanket and let the sun warm my back. Kirk stretched out next to me, resting on his side.

  “I’m not completely heartless and unreasonable.”

  I smiled then rolled to my back. I leaned up and kissed his lips.

  His eyes widened and he jerked back slightly. “You don’t have—”

  “I know, but every time you try to protect me, I make things harder.”

  “I manage.”

  “I know, but—I just—Can you make me forget where we are? Just for a little while?”

  He looked like he was going to argue, but he pressed his lips to mine, and slid one hand up under my shirt. His fingers left tingling coolness in their wake as they traveled up to caress the underside of my breast.

  “What are you up to, Silver?”

  “We discussed this already. Then we got interrupted and the day went to shit. Can we just skip all of that today?”

  His thumb traced the outside of my nipple and I felt it stiffen. Seeing his muscle, watching him use it and being the victim of its use, it seemed contradictory that he could touch me with such delicacy.

  He was probably quite experienced in getting women right where he wanted them with as few steps as necessary. I arched toward his touch, and his soft caresses turned into pinches and rougher massaging motions. He pulled my leg up and slid his finger up the leg of my shorts and into my underwear while he kissed down my jawline and nipped at my earlobe.

  “Unbutton your shorts,” he whispered directly into my ear, “take them off.”

  I did, lifting my hips to slide them down and then, kicking them off. He flipped me over to straddle his hips, and lifted my shirt over my head, before taking my breasts into his hands and capturing each of my nipples between two fingers.

  My hips rocked, rubbing against his. I nearly fell forward when he released my breasts, and trailed his fingers down my sides. He sat up, and I slid against his hips, into his lap. He took his shirt off and threw it on the blanket behind me, pulling my bare chest against his as he explored my neck and chest with his mouth—and intermittently his teeth. I felt his erection growing under me with each subtle movement I made.

  I dragged my fingers through his short hair then pulled back, tracing my fingers over the curves of the tattoo from his shoulder down to his elbow.

  “You really like snakes.”

  “You want to talk about tattoos right now?” He bit my lip, and then laid me back on the blanket, to unzip his pants and free his erect cock.

  I shook my head, lifting my hips to meet him as he slid inside me. As much as I wanted to forget where I was, and why I was doing this, it continued echoing in my head. I wanted to know if this was what it was usually like. And I wanted to gut myself for not only giving in, but inciting him.

  But I also wanted to enjoy the moment, the electrifying sensation as he filled me, and stimulated the nerves inside of me. The most intimate of acts, with someone who didn’t even know my real name.

  Kirk paused. “You’re pulling away.”

  “Please, no lectures about how I need to—”

  “No,” he kissed my nose then traced my jawline.

  “Sometimes you can border on sweet.”

  “Don’t,” he closed his pained eyes. “Don’t expect sweet.”

  “But I can enjoy it now?”

  He brushed his lips across mine, down my neck to my collarbone. “It is your fantasy today. Happy birthday.”

  I giggled and pushed against him. “Deal and you can tell me not to get attached to it tomorrow.”

  I curled up against Kirk; we were both still naked in the middle of the field. “You seem different today.”

  “Reevaluating my tactics,” he replied, running his fingers over the stray strands of hair that dangled over my shoulder.

  “And discovering that a little honey works better than ignoring and barking at me.”

  “I never barked at you.”

  “You did a lot of growling.” The wind shifted, drawing the sweet smell of nearby daffodils toward us. I thought it might be best to change the subject instead of egging him on. “Why do you have so many snake tattoos?”

  “I like them.”

  “Snakes, or snake tattoos?”

  Kirk dragged his fingers through my hair and pulled my knee up to hook it over his hip. “Both. I was a country boy. I loved finding snakes, but the tattoos just seemed fitting.”

  But? The way he phrased it made it seem strange—he didn't have the tattoos because he liked snakes. There was another reason. A reason I’d probably find myself in trouble for digging for. I waited, giving him a few moments to continue his thought and clarify if he wanted, but he traced his fingers down my arm to my thigh and down to my knee, leaving a tingling trail that lit up my nerves again.

  “If you don’t want me to get used to this, you shoul
d really stop doing that.”

  “I like watching your reaction.”

  I rolled against him, so I could stare into his face. “What do—what am I going to be expected to do to be a good slave?”

  “I thought you wanted to forget about that today?”

  “I figured I’d rather ask you while you’re in a good mood.”

  He took a breath and pushed me off him, retrieving his shirt from the edge of the blanket. I had definitely ruined the serene mood. “What’s expected depends on who you’re with. Just do as you’re told.”

  “But am I supposed to instigate, to…interact?”

  “Most of them will expect you to at least act into it, yes. A blow-up doll would be cheaper and more effective if they didn’t want interaction.” He handed me my shirt. “Beyond that, they’ll tell you what they want.”

  I slipped it on and rubbed the back of my neck, pulling my knees up to my chest and dropping my chin against them. Kirk smiled and twisted around, putting one leg behind me and one in front and holding me to his chest.

  “I don’t plan on sharing you more than I have to,” he whispered, kissing my temple. “I’ve never been great at sharing.”

  “Is that why none of the other slaves can get your attention?”

  “One reason among many.”

  I rested my head against his shoulder and watched the breeze lift up little ripples across the lake, creating a skewed image of the sky and surrounding plants. I felt like that water, trying to reflect back what everyone was projecting on me, only to have it distorted and unclear.

  Kirk gathered my hair away from my neck so he had access to kiss it, and I drifted back into that place of lust that he’d created for me. He moved the leg that was behind me.

  “Lay back.”

  I silenced the arguments and questions, rolling back onto the blanket.

  “What were you thinking about?” he asked as if it wasn’t bad enough that I had to give up every part of myself, now he wanted my thoughts, too.

  “I don’t want to piss you off.”

  His eyebrow raised and the faint smile faded from his lips.

  “Nothing that bad,” I said. “I’m not contemplating my next breakout attempt or anything. I’m just afraid of losing myself.”

  “Sometimes that’s the only way to survive. You shed the old life and move on. Cling to it and it’ll suffocate you until you die.”

  “Shed,” I repeated, “like a snake.”

  He squinted down at me, as if he hadn’t made the connection—or he hadn’t expected me to make it. I wondered what he had shed off. How he came to be a leader—a young one at that—in a sex retreat, yet he’d never show much interest in the slaves.

  “How did you end up here?” I asked before I could put a damper on my curiosity.

  “You have to earn that answer.” He crouched over me, slipping a hand up my stomach. I wanted to be pissed that he could put me in a place of complacency so easily, but, on the other hand, it was a blessing. It made things less painful.

  “You have to trust me,” he said. Sitting back on his heels and spreading my legs.

  Full trust wasn’t an easy request.

  His fingers caressed my folds, and I nodded. I had to trust him, the only tether I had to safety, to human contact. I heard faint voices and looked up to see a small group of people about a hundred yards away. They had stopped to watch us, and instead of feeling embarrassed, I felt… uninhibited.

  I locked my gaze on Kirk, feeling myself slip away.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered. I hadn’t even been able to hold off the change for a few weeks. I was becoming like the other girls, making excuses for the abuse, letting myself slide into the pleasure to escape. There was freedom in letting everything else go—not worrying about school, car payments… rent. I wondered what happened to my things, but it didn’t matter. I wondered if my family had noticed that I was gone. I moved away to get my space, and even though Mom demanded that I call regularly, I stretched as much time as I could in “regularly,” ignoring their calls for weeks at time, and sending little texts in between just to tide them over.

  “I’m going to get you to stop thinking,” he smirked.

  “You know brain surgery?” I whispered, afraid the onlookers would notice my rebellion.

  Kirk laughed quietly, “No, you’ll have to keep your body relaxed.”

  That didn’t encourage my confidence in either of us, but I nodded and let him spread my legs further. He pulled out a rubber glove and a pack of lube that had been hidden in the side of the cooler.

  “And you called me a schemer.”

  “Latex free,” he said, slipping the glove over his left hand. Then he coated the fingers with lube. Two fingers pressed inside of me first. His thumb rubbed my clit while his fingers searched for my g-spot. I jerked, raising my hips off the blanket when he found it and he slid a finger inside of me. The way he concentrated on the two spots, I thought he was going to take me right to the edge, but then he slipped another finger inside of me, stretching and filling me.

  I moaned and fisted the blanket, when he stretched his large fingers out stretching me nearly as much as having his cock in me, but not nearly as deep.

  “It’s going to hurt,” he warned, “but as long as you don’t tense up too much, it won’t last long.”

  My eyes widened, but I nodded, relaxing so he could slip his last finger inside of me.

  What the hell did I just agree to?

  The stretching was on the verge of burning, but it turned to pleasure as he continued massaging inside of me. I heard the lube bottle click open again, and felt it run down my skin as it rolled off his hand.

  “Lift up your shirt,” he said, “Pinch your nipples, and roll them between your fingers.”

  I had to arch my back to get my shirt up high enough to reveal my breasts to him, then I began fondling myself as instructed, the sensations adding to the buzz of my overwhelmed nerves.

  My hips pressed down, my body wanting his hand deeper. The sensations at my clit stopped for a moment before he pinched it between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. I gasped and jerked in pleasure, but that forced his hand deeper, causing a new burn.

  “Ah,” I tightened in pain for just a second then reminded myself to relax. He folded his thumb in with his hand and pressed inside of me. I squeezed my breasts harder, teetering on the precipice of pleasure and pain as he pushed inside of me. I focused all of my tension in my hands, kneading and abusing my own breasts and forcing the rest of my body to be as relaxed as possible.

  Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, his hand stilled, buried up to his lower forearm inside of me.

  “Holy shit,” I said as we both paused.

  Kirk ran his free hand across my stomach, then the hand inside of me twisted, moving slowly, but every motion stimulated new nerves. I tightened around him, unable to stop the convulsions as they raced out from my core.

  My breath came in sharp pants, each enunciated with a sigh of pleasure.

  “Keep playing,” he reminded me—a gentle correction.

  I squeezed my sensitive nipples again. The sensation paired with his hand still buried deep inside of me was close to sending me over the edge again. Kirk rubbed his thumb over my clit again, spreading some of the lube over it, then flicking and pinching it gently.

  I screamed, feeling the pressure building inside of me. I bucked once, then again. Kirk pushed my hips to the ground, keeping me still, but my stomach clenched and I jerked and spasmed on the ground. I cried out again, pinching my nipples as hard as I could. Finally, he moved the hand inside of me, and everything exploded.

  A commotion erupted above me as my body shuddered on the blanket. By the time I’d come back down from the orgasm, Kirk was lying next to me with a suspiciously satisfied grin on his face. I looked up, and the onlookers had already moved on.

  “You win,” I whispered, closing my eyes and drawing my body toward the sound of his chuckle. With my ch
eek against his chest, I expected him to tense or find some way to push me away, but he carefully tucked me against his chest.

  I felt Kirk nudge me, and I opened my eyes.

  “If we don’t get up, we’re both going to have some strange suntans tomorrow.”

  I blinked and sat up, unsure of how much time had passed since I’d dozed off. Still half-naked, I sat up and reached for my shorts. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Kirk scoffed, fishing through the cooler again. He handed me a bottle of water and then a small piece of chocolate brownie.

  “Oh my god, you’ve been possessed, haven’t you?”

  He moved to snatch it away, but I jerked it to my chest, and he leaned back next to me, relining against one arm. I unwrapped the morsel and took a bite, the moist chocolate filling my mouth. I chewed slowly, trying to savor every second of the taste before swallowing.

  “I should probably thank you for today.”

  “Probably.”

  I offered him a bite of the brownie, and he took a small chunk.

  As I watched him chew, his eyes trained on the lake, I realized that the beating had changed him as much as me. My pain had come at his hand, and in the moments since, I convinced myself that this…whatever I made of it wasn’t as bad as having my back set on fire with a leather strap.

  I wasn’t sure if that made me insanely weak for giving in early, or smart for knowing when to admit defeat. I wanted to lean toward smart, but some small part of me couldn’t get over the weakness. That part told me that I was a coward and a fool, but hell, I was alive for it to tell me that, so I couldn’t be doing that badly.

  I wanted to survive. I wanted to fight. But what was I going to fight against? The most intense orgasm I’d ever had or the last few bites of brownie left in my hand?

  Certainly not against the man who’d given them to me.

  I was fucked in every way possible. I shoved the last of the brownie in my mouth then took a drink of water to wash it down.

  “We can take a walk around the lake before we head back.”

  “Do we have to head back? I like being outside.”

  “We can make it a slow walk.” He stood and then glared down at me, “Why the hell am I negotiating with you?”