Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Watch Me, Desire Me

  Several narrow escapes, encounters, and Juden somehow managed to get by him, yet again. The thought of it made him livid, not to mention unbearable. “Tell me you have the bastard.” He barked.

  Flustered and sweated the man shook his head no. Maynard combusted into a tirade, throwing a tantrum, he stormed about shouting the incompetence of those around him. When he lapsed into silence, cautiously the man stepped forward.

  “We got something better, as good as having Black Bastard himself.” The man crooned proudly.

  “Stop babbling and spit it out.”

  “Bait,” the man said excitedly.

  Maynard narrowed his eyes, and snarled, “Well, don’t keep me waiting.”

  “VanZandt left the lady in the care of another. It seems she wasn’t inclined to stay and enjoy the company of someone else. While we waited to see if Van Zandt would back tracked as a trap, and then we saw the female high-tail it out of there. Mounted a horse and took off into the wilderness without a second thought. VanZandt had those vicious guards with him so we didn’t take a chance and pursue him. Besides, we thought if we get the woman, Van Zandt would go up against an army to get her back. He will come for her.”

  Maynard sneered. He contemplated the odds of what the man said and figured him to be correct. “You’re not as stupid as you appear.” Squinting, he searched through the heavy fog already surrounding the area putting everything in a haze. He looked toward the horse and riders who recently entered the camp. “Where is she?”

  “Wouldn’t come willingly…kicking and screaming—had to rough her up a bit.”

  “If you damaged her, I will kill you. Bring her to me.” His father accused him of being too ambitious where he believed it was confidence. His right as a diplomat’s son to do as he pleased, which included many dalliances with the fairer sex, willing or not, he ran through women like he did the fine wines his father kept in his cellular. He lived the life of privilege, spoiled to excess, never understood even the elite had boundaries, and little tolerance for what they deemed uncouth behavior.

  The society women were readily available and he took full advantage until their feigned innocence began to bore him. His taste for sex leaned on the deviant side. Something his father, peers, and entourage overlooked until he took matters too far one evening. Even the brothel who coveted the large sum of coins he tossed at them began to cringe at his requests and rejected him. Street whores had the nerve to turn him away, and the ideal of it was unnerving, not to mention made him furious. Drunk and delirious on grainroot one evening, he sought out his favorite tart, and when she denied him, he must have gone into a violent rage.

  The memory of the events that happened next remained a blur. He knew he was an outcast from his family and the very society who once adored him. Now, left to his own devices, he made his way as he saw fit. Being an assassin was not his ideal profession, his skills sought, and the fees he gained allowed him to live a decent lifestyle.

  Killing VanZandt and Saxby would build his coffers to a satisfactory state might allow him to purchase his way back into upper echelon’s good graces.

  “Lady Saxby, ‘tis a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said with a nasty smile.

  Saxby stood in the entryway of the tent, arms to the side, defiance etched in her expression.

  “Come and join me.”

  “Juden won’t come for me,” she said.

  Maynard chuckled and dismissed the lie with a wave of his hand. “Ah, we both know he will. And frankly, I’m looking forward to it. The blasted variant has many enemies who will applaud me when he is dead. I know I will be ecstatic,” he murmured. He took a pitcher and poured a cup of wine. He sipped, studying Saxby over the rim of his cup. His beady gaze lingered over the swell of her breast before he made eye contact. “I know if I had such a lovely cunt at my disposal I’d make haste to retrieve her. Sit.” He ordered jabbing his finger at the palate of furs on the ground.

  “I prefer to stand.”

  Maynard moved swiftly, grabbed her wrist, and yanked Saxby down until she fell backwards against the covers. He pounced on her then, shoved her thighs open with his knees, so brutal she winced. He laughed at her distress. The soft cry heightened his arousal.

  Maynard breathed into her face. “When I give you an order you will obey, or I will hurt you bad. VanZandt might like feisty bitches, I do not.” He smiled at her pleasantly, and added. “I like my pussy tamed,” he snickered, tracing a fingernail over her breast. He stopped and toyed with the mound of cleavage revealed by her low bodice. When Saxby cringed, he threw back his head and laughed. Then the apprehension turned to fury, which excited him more. “I’ve already sent word to VanZandt you are in my company. I expect he will arrive shortly. He will ride like the devil to return, unfortunately, I’m afraid not fast enough to save you from what I have in store for you. VanZandt has never been partial to his women, and certainly not averse to sharing. I hear he has a special fondness for you. My first thought is to kill him before he reached my camp. I can’t help wanting to see his expression when he finds you spread-eagle like a whore. The luscious body of yours is dripping with cum and delectable pussy sopping wet from my seed.”

  Saxby slapped at Maynard’s hand when he reached to raise her gown. “If you touch me, I will kill you.”

  Maynard’s retribution was quick and harsh. He backhanded her. “Keep it up, and your little exploit will cost you dearly. Be obedient, and I may show some compassion due to your position. After all, Milo didn’t specifically tell me to kill you.” Saxby eyes flared scandalized by his admission. Maynard grinned, tsk-tsked, and clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Now, come dear, your husband despises you, as to why?” He shrugged indifferently, lifting one shoulder, before continuing. “Who really knows what dwells in that manic head of Milo? I don’t really care as long as he pays me my sum.”

  “You won’t get away with this.” She surveyed Maynard with insolence, refusing to show any sign she was aware of the perilous situation she was in. “I do hope you die in a horrific manner and slowly.”

  Maynard grabbed her cheeks and squeezed. He growled, saying, “I hope you’re as a good a fuck as I believe. I don’t want to waste my time.” He pushed Saxby downward until she was flat on her back. He pinned her arms over her head, locked her still between his thighs, and pushed his groin between her legs. “Shall we begin,” he said roguishly.

  Instinctively, she wanted to fight. Every nerve ending in her body told her not to allow Maynard to get his way. But reality dawned also, and Saxby knew the monster had the upper hand. Not only was Maynard determined, he was tall and outweighed her by many pounds. His chest was thick, arms muscular, and thighs toned with strength. He had his full weight on her, and she felt suffocated beneath the bull.

  Feeling him tie her arms above her head to the tent post, her legs stretched and secured to poles, she knew there was no recourse except to suffer through his pawing. Her gown ripped, drawers torn free, she began to pray feverishly for Juden to hurry.

  Maynard’s smile was faint as he eyed her body. “Now, I see why VanZandt has such a hard-on for you. You’re one nice piece and a sweet ass. If I cared to, you would fetch a nice price on the market. I know men who have killed for less beauty in their bed. ‘Tis shame you are ruined when a virgin ups the ante greatly.” His eyes brightened, as if a thought suddenly surfaced. “Tell me, did VanZandt destroy all your innocence. Mmm?” He ran his finger down the curve of her thigh, between her legs, along the crevice of her ass. Saxby stiffened, frozen, feeling him touch her there. “VanZandt is an animal. Did he fuck you like one?”

  When she refused to respond, Maynard forced her reply by prodding the snug tunnel with his fingertip.

  “Aye,” Saxby said quietly. She was relieved when he withdrew.

  Maynard hovered like a fiend, a sinister smile plastered on his face. “Once, twice, how many times did you allow the perverse act?”

  “Too many times to count and as much as he wan
ted,” she lied. Even the black market frowned on deceit, and she knew if Maynard thought her ruined on all accounts, he wouldn’t risk trying to sell her as undamaged goods. It was a given Maynard intended to rape her. The thought disgusted her, and made bile forth in her belly. For the sake of survival, she had to consider it a second concern. No matter what was required, she would summon the courage to suffer through it and prevail. Not to, would mean to lose to the despicable bastard, and she refused to allow the coward idiot to break her will and win.

  What she feared was if Maynard was cold-hearted enough to kill a woman.

  She refused to dwell on the unknown. Instead, she focused on nothing as Maynard came to his knees, fumbled with the fastenings on his pants, and she closed her eyes seeing his appendage spring free.

  Chapter 50

  “VanZandt is coming!” The shout was faint and echoed from a distance.

  The warning vibrated through Saxby’s conscious. Her eyes popped open, shifted toward the tent entry, expecting Juden to come charging through any minute. Expectantly, breathe held, she waited.

  Maynard hovered over her like a nefarious shade, body rigid, ears pricked and listening, as if he needed additional verification to what he just heard before he moved into action.

  “The variants are near!” another man shouted.

  Maynard’s movements were cumbersome, void of urgency, he took his time moving toward the pergola entrance, and moved back the flaps and peered out. “What is all the commotion about,” he asked, grabbing a man by the collar.

  The man shook in his boots. He raised his arm and pointed to toward the high crest just over the hill that lead to the campgrounds. “By Oslei, I swear ‘tis a liege of Satan’s warriors bearing down on us.” Maynard shoved the man aside and reentered the tent. “It seems you were wrong. Juden has come to play after all.” His smile was sinister. He refastened his pants hastily and left.

  The sound of horse hooves, desperate cries, and mayhem reached Saxby’s ears. She struggled against the ropes in a futile attempt. Maynard trussed her tight, and her continued fighting only firmed the knots and caused the thick twine to bite into her tender flesh and rub it raw.

  Minutes ticked by seemingly like hours before she heard voices. She strained to hear. Juden’s tone was calm, and deceptively quiet. She couldn’t make out what he said. A lull passed, and Maynard shrieked before he howled in pain.

  Saxby flinched when the cloth of the tent ripped wide when Maynard’s body flew through the opening. He landed with a thud beside her. She glanced at his twisted frame and the trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth. His lips twisted in a crude smile.

  Juden stormed inside, froze, and stared at her.

  “Juden,” she whispered.

  “Y-your bitch screamed for it,” Maynard said, chuckling, spitting out blood. His hand was broken and dangled from his wrist, the fingers bent abnormally that he used to wipe his mouth. “She’s a feisty cunt,” he sneered. He tried to laugh, and coughed up blood instead. The crimson sprayed everywhere, dribbled down his chin, and stained his white shirt. Gasping, Maynard tried to move, lapsed back and glared at Juden. “Kill me, but know I relish the thought of you closing your eyes each night knowing I fucked your woman.”

  “Really? When I will easily forget your pitiful sobs for mercy,” Juden said, calmly.

  Maynard’s eyes flared when Juden growled and flew across the small space landing beside Maynard. She turned away seeing Juden’s canines drop, the silver of his eyes turned soulless, an animalistic howl emanated sending shivers of terror coursing through her body.

  Saxby closed her eyes hearing Maynard’s piercing screams.

  Chapter 51

  “Can you at least look at me?” Saxby asked.

  When Juden faced her, she almost regretted she asked. As long as she lived, she never wanted to see the coldness or emotionless void she witnessed now. Stiffening against his stoic persona, the silent accusation in his eyes, she prayed for the best and prepared for the worst.

  Summoning the nerve, she said, “I will be returning to my father’s home. Under the circumstances I think ‘tis best.”

  “I will see that you have a full escort to ensure you arrive safely.”

  “I was hoping you would say you would take me personally. I would appreciate it, Juden.” She hated to sound whinny.

  “My men will ensure you arrive home safely.”

  “Why won’t you escort me?”

  “I have another matter to attend of more importance.”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me. If you can’t stand the sight of me, because you think I enjoyed being with Maynard, then be man enough to admit it.”

  He tried to throttle his temper, and failed miserably. His tone was rough. “You have a knack for trying to push my hand. Right now, you shouldn’t do it, it isn’t a wise.”

  “Why? You might slip and speak the truth? You blame me for what happened, don’t you?”

  Juden inhaled and released the air slowly. “I’ve been drinking to excess. ‘Tis foolish to goad me,” he said, holding her stare. “I can’t vouch for my control or lack of it.”

  She didn’t deserve his surliness. He had no right to be angry when she was the one who suffered. Her fury sounded in her tone, overriding the hurt the spiked inside her chest, causing her to lash out. “To think you would understand my pain. I assumed you would want to comfort me during this difficult time. Instead, you prefer to wallow in self-pity and lick your wounded ego.”

  “That is not true.” His words were crisp and rigid.

  “Then prove to me I’m wrong. Hold me.” She hated to sound pleading, embarrassed by her need to be pampered.

  “If I say I can’t you will think ‘tis for the wrong reason,” he said quietly.

  “What other reason can there be except you hold me responsible for what happened.”

  The sight of her nakedness, evidence of sex on her body, the scent of it in the air remained stamped in his brain. Without thinking he snapped, “I told you to stay with Brava and you disobeyed. Sometimes I think you are clueless you can be your worst enemy.”

  “I expected more from you. Not this…this unjustified accusation.” Her voice faded as emotions overwhelmed her. She gathered herself, and tried to speak again. “That bastard forced himself on me. I tried to fight him. Here,” she showed him the welts on her wrist where she struggled. “Maybe I didn’t fight to the death. If you found me dead, would you be satisfied? Then you would know for sure I didn’t want the scum to touch me.”

  “Your comment is ridiculous.”

  “I wonder.”

  His silence solidified Saxby’s beliefs. A fresh wave of anguish surfaced and rumbled through her body. Sobs threatened to erupt, but she forced it back down. With a sense of bravado she didn’t feel, she walked around to the chair where he sat. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and glared down at him. “Bastard,” she spat.

  Again, Juden opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it.

  Saxby shook her head, staring at him unbelievingly. “Cold-hearted bastard,” she whispered.

  Juden slammed his drink on the table, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her forward. “Don’t you dare push me. I’m not in the mood.”

  She jerked away from him, slapped him silly, and stormed from the room. It was at the tip of her tongue to confide what actually happened with Maynard. He was determined to rape her. He failed miserably and couldn’t perform. She had no idea why, but thanked Oslei he hadn’t been able to degrade her as he wanted. Juden saw she was naked, legs spread, and probably Maynard’s residue on her, which probably came from him forcing her to perform fellatio, and then he stroked himself to completion. The entire act lasted less than five minutes. Juden assumed the worst. She could have eased his fears. He didn’t deserve it.

  * * * *

  Juden didn’t move. Not even when the door slammed and he knew she was gone, possibly from his life forever, he couldn’t bring himself to go after her
. He wanted to, but jealousy and jilted self-esteem held him comatose. A raw sense of resentment surfaced, right or wrong, he didn’t care to decipher. He just knew he was having a helluva time coming to grips with the fact another man possessed his woman.

  He didn’t blame her. He blamed himself for feeling fanatical about ownership and he should have been there for her.

  The door opened and closed. Juden didn’t turn around to see who entered. He sensed Jilst, Selwyn, and Kerr standing there, glaring at his back.

  “What?”

  “She’s leaving,” Selwyn said, sounding surly.

  “You intend to let her go?” Kerr asked, indignant.

  “I would think you would go after your woman,” Jilst said piqued.

  “She’s going to her father’s home. Go with her and take twenty men to ensure she has adequate protection. When you have delivered her safely in her father’s hands, return to Dandelion.”

  Juden stood at the window and watched Saxby mount her horse. He waited in the shadows, watching, following the entourage of mounts cross his path until the last of his men disappeared into the moonlight night. He remained standing, staring at the speck of figures fade into the darkness before he left the window.

  He took a seat, poured a glass of whiskey, swallowed it in one gulp, and sulked. When the liquor didn’t dull his senses to satisfaction, he had another glass, then more, until he felt submerged in a haze of forgetfulness at how he treated the woman he loved.

  The sound of the fragile container cracked and popped when he squeezed it hard. He went into a tirade of curses to vent the anger directed at himself, and threw the pieces of glass into the hearth.

  Chapter 52

  Milo read the missive, and then ripped the parchment to shreds and tossed it into the fire.

  “I take it ‘tis bad news.”

  Milo whirled around and glared at Carline who lounged across his bed. She twirled a curl of hair around her finger absentminded, watching Milo perceptively, following his every move as he paced back and forth over the floor. A slight smile curved her lips, eyes wide and bright, revealed the excitement she felt for his suffering even though she tried to mask it. “Juden and Saxby escaped again?”