Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1)

by Jennifer Bene

  She was too cold, her mind too scattered, and the lashes just kept coming.

  He walked around her and the crop started coming from the other direction, leaving lines of fire in its wake that overlapped with the welts he’d given her earlier in the night. This hurt, and because she couldn’t even fight back there was no solid adrenaline dump to make her ignore the pain. What she wouldn’t give to be free of the damn bindings so she could rip that crop from his hands and hit him a few dozen times with it.

  “Fuck!” She hissed through her teeth, letting the word drag into a low growl of frustration as he paused.

  “You know what will make this stop. Give me an address.” A sharp swat from the crop across her already sore ass made her bite down on her tongue to stay quiet. “Going to talk?”

  “No!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, and the rush that followed the outburst felt good. It was a decent push of adrenaline, reminding her that even though she was tied down and currently at this asshat’s mercy, she was still herself.

  “Good, because I’m not done anyway.” He rained down a series of blows that felt endless, each vicious, fiery spike of pain didn’t even have time to recede before the next landed, and there were tears on her cheeks by the time he stopped, breathing heavily behind her.

  Camille’s own breathing was ragged, and she had to swallow a hiccup as she roughly wiped her cheeks against her shoulders so he wouldn’t see the tears, although her mascara was probably long ruined. The pulsing of the hot skin across her ass wouldn’t abate. It was a constant, humiliating ache and she hated that all of her self-control meant nothing with this kind of torture.

  Why couldn’t he just hit her like a normal evil henchman? Why didn’t he just threaten and shout at her like every other asshole she’d dealt with in all her years in this world?

  The girl was shaking, her muscles trembling on the spanking bench, and through the red haze in his head he was trying to evaluate whether it was a lingering reaction to the cold, or if the crop had sent her into some kind of shock.

  People in shock were not particularly helpful, and part of him felt a strange pang of concern for her. She hadn’t cussed at him in at least ten minutes, and that was not a good sign.

  Fuck it.

  He threw the crop against the wall, and the snap of it made her jump against the straps holding her down. If he wanted, he could easily fuck her atop the bench. It would take almost no effort to tear the lace of her panties, yank her hips back, and drive himself deep inside her – and although it would slake the ever-growing lust he felt for her, it wouldn’t be worth it if she was too far gone to even react. If he couldn’t even feel her come underneath him.

  Reaching forward he brushed a fingertip over a dark welt, already bruised from the force he’d used the crop. There were bright, red welts all over her ass and the tops of her thighs. Several spots already darkening with beautiful bruises that would create a kaleidoscope of colors over the next few days.

  If you have her that long.

  Mateo shoved that voice away and flattened his palm over her ass. It was the only place on her body that was warm at the moment, the rush of blood called to the surface by the toy making it an incredibly sharp contrast as he trailed his hand down her thighs until he reached the cooling sweat behind her knees, and the chilled skin of her calves.

  She sniffled, and he immediately stepped around her and his cock became a steel bar in his pants as she looked up at him. Her nose was perfectly red, her cheeks flushed, her lips pouty from her chewing on them in her agony – and her eyes. Fuck. Those perfectly blue eyes looked even bluer with the sheen of tears still on them, framed by her mascara that had smeared in all the right ways.

  Why did she have to be so beautiful? So strong? So defiant?

  The girl was flipping every one of his internal switches, but with Scarpa already calling him repeatedly asking if he had the information, he didn’t have time to screw around.

  There was something missing from her gaze though. Her fight was leaving her, which should have felt like a victory, but instead it felt like a loss.

  Scrambling mentally he dropped his hands to his hips and stared down at her, and a moment later she broke eye contact and rested her cheek against the soft leather.

  No. This wouldn’t do.

  “I have a deal for you…” He spoke quietly, and with absolutely no sane logic whatsoever he leaned down and released her left wrist from the binding. “If you can make it to the door, then I’ll put you in your own room for the night.” The shock of his words made her jerk her head up to meet his eyes, but he avoided her gaze and then walked around to untether her ankles before he could talk himself out of it.

  Mateo swallowed as she sat up, straddling the bench so she could lean over to undo the last strap around her right wrist. From the back she looked like some kind of fantasy, knees spread wide, her skirt not quite covering her ass as half of it was still hung around her hips. The marks, his marks, plainly visible on her tanned skin.

  His pulse kicked up a notch as she stretched one long leg towards the floor, planting her toes down before she carefully eased off. The girl moved much slower than he expected, but considering the several hours she’d spent tied down it made sense.

  She turned to face him slowly, her eyes evaluating him like the predator he knew he was, but she was no weak little rabbit, and he was keeping his distance until he could figure out what she was going to do. The last thing he wanted was a broken nose on top of the ear that was still ringing at random from her close-range shot earlier.

  “So, how is this going to go?” Her voice was soft, but he could tell by the way she was testing her balance between her feet that she wasn’t planning on taking it easy.

  “I think that’s up to you, doll face. If you reach the door, you get to go lay down and sleep for a while before we pick things back up in the morning.”

  “And if I don’t reach the door?”

  “Then I get to do what I want with you for the rest of the night.” Mateo couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his lips. It was already well after three in the morning, but there were a couple of hours until dawn yet.

  “No knife this time?” She asked, showing her neck where the thin cut he’d made had already scabbed over, although her blood was still a dry, dark smear around it.

  “No knife, and I put your gun somewhere safe.” A thrill rushed through him as she smiled slowly. This girl was trouble. A lot of trouble. But he found himself thanking Scarpa for calling him in when Eddie failed, because trouble like this was fun.

  “Tell me, does your boss pay you well?”

  The question threw him off, but he shrugged a shoulder. “I’d say so.”

  “Well enough for you to have health insurance?” Her small smile spread into an all-out grin and he found himself laughing.

  “Alright, girl. Come and get me.” He raised his hand and beckoned her forward, but she just threw her hair over her shoulder and began to take measured steps to her right. Tracking her, he sidestepped along with her, keeping himself between her and the door.

  There was something impossibly erotic about the way she moved. Each step had purpose, each roll of her hips and shift of her shoulders seemed to deflect his gaze to a different place on her body, and he couldn’t figure out what she was planning. Too much space separated them for her to move fast enough to take him off guard, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

  Then he caught on as she reached the wall and slid a cane from its nesting place.

  Fucking. Minx.

  “Do you even know how to use one of those?” He asked, suddenly critiquing his own design of the room because all that was near him was a fucking linen closet with cleaning supplies. She was standing right by the good stuff.

  “I have a pretty good idea.” She started to walk towards him, and he had to fight the urge to back up. This little woman shouldn’t have made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, but the way she swished the cane through the a
ir made him swallow. Nobody had ever used one on him, and if he could help it no one ever would, but he knew from the screams he’d drawn out of women in this room that they hurt – and it didn’t take a lot of strength for a cane to do a good deal of damage.

  He had to get that fucking thing out of her hands.

  Suddenly she was only a few feet away and with a quick dart towards his left side she brought the cane down on the side of his thigh. There was a beat where he wondered why it didn’t hurt, and then pain surged from the point like a line of fire. He roared and lunged for her, but she was too damn quick on her feet. She twisted back and away from him, a manic grin across her cheeks, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief again – and although his leg was cursing him, he was too turned on to care.

  The hunt was on.

  “Did that hurt?” She mocked in a high-pitched, girlish voice, and he growled, stalking towards her, forcing her to backpedal a few steps.

  “I’m about to show you exactly what it felt like.” He lunged for her and she countered with a swipe of the cane that had him jerking back to avoid it hitting his arm. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she’d practiced with the damn implement because she held it delicately, but already seemed confident with it.

  The girl laughed. Actually laughed at him. “What did you say?” She feigned having to think for a moment, and then she pointed her finger at the ceiling and widened her eyes like she’d had an idea. “That’s right. Come and get me.”

  Mateo looked her over and the haze of lust growing inside him was fighting the cold, calculating killer he normally was until neither side was winning and his head felt like a mess. She paused her steps a yard or two away, the cane angled down at her side which caused his eyes to drift back up her long legs, her curves, and the soft swell of her breasts peeking out of her top.

  He wanted her naked. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted her to fight him so he could win and hear her scream his name as he took her.

  When he finally made himself meet her eyes again his cock jumped because her intense stare was locked on his, and she looked just as excited as he was.

  Could that be possible?

  Before he lingered too long on the possibility he rolled his shoulders and stalked towards her, and this time she backed up. He faked to the right and she switched the cane to her left hand in defense, but he countered and reached for her other side. As his fingers wrapped around her upper arm he felt her muscles tense, and he blocked the swing of the cane. Twisting he tried to rip it from her hands, but the silky smoothness of the wood was yanked from his grip before he could get a good hold. She kicked him in the knee and he almost buckled, but was able to catch himself and shove her back farther into the room.

  The girl was light on her feet, not even stumbling with the force of his push, but her eyes were rapidly flicking between him and the door far behind him. “You’re a long way from winning, girl.”

  “How’s your leg?” She retorted, and he felt a growl rumble in his chest.

  Mateo smiled and charged her, catching her wrist harshly as she attempted to hit him with the cane again, and much like he had in the warehouse he lifted her and dropped her hard onto the padded floor. Tightening his grip on her wrist he felt the fine bones grinding together until her grip loosened and then he ripped the thin implement from her fingers and threw it towards the wall. It took him half a second to realize he’d landed between her thighs, but his cock was clearly ahead of him as he felt the heavy, straining weight tightening between his legs.

  Instead of fear he saw challenge in her eyes and it made him want to take her even harder. Reaching between them he caught the lace of her panties in his fingertips, but just as he was about to rip them from her she slammed her knee into his ribs. The stunning pain was combined with the sudden flip-flopping of the room as she threw him to the side with a clearly practiced move that ended with him on his back and her rolling backwards to pop up from the floor a few feet away. She grinned at him – and then turned to dash for the door. He had never moved so fast as he pushed up and ran after her, they were maybe six feet from the door when he caught her shirt and then fisted her hair to throw her to the floor behind them.

  This time she didn’t keep her balance, but she hit the floor and rolled over her shoulder to land upright in a crouch. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she stood slowly, and he could feel his own heart racing behind his sore ribs.

  Who the fuck is this girl?

  “Want to ask me where he is again?” She asked with a smile lifting the edge of her lips. A dark rush inside him smothered all thoughts of Scarpa and the job and the whys behind how she had come to be in his house.

  Roaming his eyes over her he shook his head slowly. “No. I want to fuck you.”

  The words thundered inside her like a gong. Mateo was growling like a Porsche engine in front of her and her clit was pounding, begging for attention. Even though the door was a mere handful of feet behind him, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to try for it again – or let him have her.

  Swallowing, Camille spoke again, “You haven’t caught me yet, Mateo.”

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Everyone calls me C.” She forced a deep breath trying to calm her racing pulse, but the way his eyes were devouring her it was a pointless exercise.

  “What does C stand for?” Mateo asked and took a step forward, which she countered with two steps backward to cover the sheer distance his legs ate up. He was well over six feet tall and judging by the way his shirt clung to him, she knew he was hard, solid muscle. The kind of body she would have gratefully amused herself with for a night under different circumstances.

  “Depends on who you ask.” The damn smile wouldn’t leave her lips and she hated that this felt fun. She should be worried, concerned for her well-being – if not her life – but all she wanted was for Mateo to come after her again. To chase her, maybe even catch her.

  “I’m asking you.” He started to take long, confident strides towards her. Dancing away she kept moving, angling to the side, hoping to trick him into flipping their positions, but he adjusted and kept her moving towards the back of the room, farther from the door. “Name,” he demanded.

  “Cassie,” she answered.

  “Liar.” He growled and she had to sidestep a strange wooden pillar that drove straight into the ceiling above her.

  “Christine.”

  “You’re easier to read than you think, girl. That’s another lie.”

  She scoffed and peeked over her shoulder to find that there was very little room left. “Colette.”

  “Last chance.”

  “For what?” She asked, stopping while she still had a few feet before she was against the wall.

  “To tell me before I make you tell me.” He paused in front of her, but with his long arms she knew he could reach out and grab her if he tried.

  “What happened to making me tell you where Callahan is?”

  “My priorities have shifted. You have until the count of three, C.” He raised a hand in the air, his fingers tucked against his palm.

  “Caitlin.”

  “That’s one.” He raised his middle finger, and she laughed and flipped him off in return.

  “Courtney.”

  “Two.” Another finger came up, and she felt wetness gathering between her thighs as her pussy clenched around nothing.

  Fuck.

  Part of her wanted to just tell him her name even though she had long ago made it a rule not to give her real name to anyone. Names were power, just like the names of friends were power, and the knowledge of family was power. Giving up any of it was like painting a target on your chest – right over your heart. That’s why it was better to have none of them. No family, no friends, and no name.

  Swallowing, she balanced on her back foot, ready to run. “Caroline.”

  “Three.” He raised his last finger and caught her mid-step just as she tried to flee, his arm wrapping quickly around her waist and li
fting her off the floor as if she weighed nothing. In an instant she found herself over his shoulder, and when she tried to throw her body weight so she could flip off of him he clamped his hand down on her thigh. His fingers dug in until she imagined there’d be even more bruises by the time dawn finally arrived outside this windowless room.

  As if it mattered. Dawn wasn’t going to save her.

  Camille kicked at him but he was unfazed even when she did her best to bring her knee down into his chest. He pinned her legs to his chest and for once she wished she weighed a little more so that this might actually strain him, as it was he seemed to be unbothered.

  “You never listen, do you?” Mateo tossed her onto the bed and she bounced as she looked up into his dark eyes.

  “Not usually.” She shoved herself backwards trying to make it to the other side of the bed, but he caught her ankle and harshly yanked her back towards him.

  “That’s fine. I enjoy bringing naughty girls in line.” His words sent a thrill down her spine that she wished she could ignore, but even as he tore the zipper of her skirt down and yanked it off with his free hand, all she could feel was the rising tension inside her.

  “Are you still upset about the cane?” She asked as his eyes landed between her thighs, forced wide because his legs were now between hers as they hung off the side of the bed.

  His gaze came up to meet hers, impossibly dark because his pupils were dilated so fully. He looked like an animal preparing to devour her. Surprise flitted across his expression before raw lust returned. “You know what it’s called?”

  “I knew that little toy of yours from a movie.” Camille smiled and then tried to kick him back from her, but just as her foot cleared his side he caught her knee and slammed it onto the bed. Her hip protested, and it was only because she was flexible that her muscles didn’t immediately scream in pain from the force.

  “Bad girl.” He tsk’d, leaning forward to wind a fist in her messy blonde waves. The ache steadily increased and then his voice thundered above her. “I’m going to let go of your hair, and you’re going to take your top off. Slowly.”