by Dark, Raven
He wants me to try.
My heart sinks. He put the gun there on purpose.
“You were testing me.” My voice shakes.
“For a woman who tried to steal from an MC, you’re quick.”
My nails dig into my palms. “I already told you, I didn’t know what you were. I don’t even know what the word MC means.”
It occurs to me that I’m exposing a dangerous level of ignorance by saying that. And why? It’s not like he’s going to go easy on me for it.
“Come here.”
I can’t tell if he believes me or not.
Unable to bring myself to move, I remain where I am.
“You really have no idea what the fuck to do with yourself, do you?” He prowls toward me.
The surprise in his tone is as obvious as the amusement that sparkles in his ice-blue eyes.
He has no idea how right he is.
The pastors made it seem as if all females who didn’t live in the Colony were wicked, sex-crazed harlots. Until now, setting foot in a guy’s room, much less one who’s twice my age, would have been unthinkable. Doing so would be to put myself on the same level as a whore. I’m utterly lost here.
Shame cuts a path across my heart for being here, and yet for some reason, the idea of admitting to my own sexual inexperience in front of this man is mortifying.
I wish I could say something, but it feels as if anything I say will only cost me too much. He closes in. The urge to back away from him tugs at me, but I stay in place, willing myself not to be afraid.
He stops in front of me and runs his finger along my throat before hooking it through the loop on the studded leather collar.
Man, I forgot I was even wearing that thing.
“Let’s see that killer body of yours again.” As at the strip club, his eyes are heavily lidded, his voice a throaty growl that makes my skin tingle. “Clothes off.”
Shame eats up my insides. I search his face for some hope of connection, anything that hints at the possibility of mercy from him. The heated lust in his eyes is the only warmth in him, and it’s not kind. It’s an all consuming fire that will burn me to ash if I get too close.
I sigh and peel my shirt and bra off, letting them drop.
He cups one of my breasts, thumbing the nipple until it peeks painfully. “Fucking beautiful.”
The praise reaches down inside me, quenching some sick, twisted part of me that craves this man.
He drops his hand. “Keep going.”
My sneakers and skirt go next. As soon as my panties are off, he snatches them from me. He brings the strip of wet black lacy cloth to his nose and inhales deeply. I widen my eyes at him, but he just makes them vanish into a pocket inside that vest.
Why do I have a feeling I’m never going to see those panties again?
Naked except for that infernal collar, I straighten, my eyes fixed to the floor at his feet.
Until I hear a rustle of clothes being removed. As soon as I look up, I wish I hadn’t.
Spider is slipping his vest off.
Gulp.
Heavens, he looks as gorgeous with the vest off as he does with it on. As gorgeous, and as dangerous.
Until now, the tattoos that covered his chest were half hidden, but now that they’re in full view, I realize what they are. A patchwork of skulls and roses cover his skin, following the contours of his powerful muscles, connected with daggers and spider’s webs. The skulls somehow look beautiful and frightening all at the same time.
The man’s skin is a work of art, but it’s the black spiders that march across his right pec and up over his shoulder that hold my attention. They accentuate the deadliness I’ve felt radiating from him since I met him.
I bet he has venom running through his veins, deadly venom as toxic as his twisted desires.
“Enjoying the view, Wildcat?” he purrs, tossing the vest on the bed behind him.
Realizing I’m ogling this living god of sin, I tear my gaze away.
“Look at me.” Spider turns my face to his and pushes my chin up so that I have to look right into his burning gaze. “You don’t get to hide from me.”
Well, now what? I hate myself for following his orders, but looking away is an act of weakness that’s just as bad. I flick my eyes at the gun on the dresser, using it as a reminder of how dangerous he is, and then lock my eyes on his.
“Good girl.” Spider walks slowly around until he’s standing behind me.
He grabs my arms and jerks them behind my back. Fear races through me, but when I struggle, he tightens his grip, holding both of my wrists easily with one hand.
There’s the clink of his belt buckle and then a soft rasp as he pulls the belt off.
The fear thrumming through me mounts into panic. I’m all too familiar with that sound. Whipping with a belt was a favorite punishment of a lot of the church leaders. I’ve seen the damage it does to people I care about.
Is he going to whip me?
But instead, Spider wraps the leather strap around my wrists. He pins my fists to the middle of my back and winds the belt around both of my arms, trapping them behind me.
His frame presses into me, his chest huge and hot and hard against my back. Fingers sweep my hair off of my shoulder with a malevolent tenderness. Hot breath fans my neck.
My heartbeat hammers in my ears. I’m terrified, but the ache building between my legs makes me hate myself as much as him. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life.
I close my eyes, letting out a slow, silent breath, praying for guidance. Of course, there is no answer. I know he can feel my whole body trembling.
“Oh, this is too good. You really are an innocent. You have no idea what to say or do here.”
His words make me feel exposed. Naked. Helpless.
One of his huge hands glides around my waist. It’s big enough to take up my whole side. His fingers splay across my belly, making the muscles there quiver. The metal from his rings is heated, branding my skin.
I lick my lips, waiting for the inevitable.
Spider’s other hand slides around my throat. My breath stills.
His fingers add no pressure, but having them there and knowing I can’t push him away is enough to send my mind into a tailspin of panic.
“Trust me, Wildcat. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what to say,” he rasps, running his face along the side of my hair. His voice is a heady growl that sounds as close to an animal as I’ve ever heard a man’s voice sound. “In a minute, your mouth will be too full to say anything anyway.”
My mind races back to what he said at the station and my throat tightens in reflex. He’s going to…
“Spider, please, don’t…“
“Don’t what?” The hand on my stomach slowly slides down between my legs, and then his fingers glide between my folds, stroking the wetness there.
Mortification twists my insides, but his other hand is still on my throat, so I know better than to resist him.
“Don’t what?” He nips my ear and the sting makes me wetter until my juices soak his fingers. He strokes me with a cruel slowness while his other hand releases my throat and cups my jaw. His thumb strokes my lips. “Don’t fuck your thieving little mouth?”
The way he says that should make me angry, and it does, but it also intensifies the ache that’s mounting with every stroke.
Humiliation at my own arousal burns my blood. I twist, trying to jerk my face away, but his fingers trap my jaw in place.
“You want me, and you damn well know it,” he says, cupping my sex and stroking hard.
An unfamiliar, frightening rush is building in me, a wave of arousal that feels like it’s going to explode inside me. I’ve never felt it before, but I know he’s making it happen, and I know I’m going straight to hell for it. I also know he’s right, I want whatever he intends to do to me.
He grinds his hardness shamelessly into my backside until I feel every inch of him through his leather pants. I thrash, trying to pull my face
out of his hold.
“You’re so perfect.” He grabs my curls in his fist, yanking my head back until my back bows, his fingers strumming my clit until I’m panting.
The pressure inside me peaks, explosive and white hot. I mourn it’s coming, and let out a tortured cry.
A primal growl leaves him, as if he’s on a knife’s edge of control. “Your mouth is going to feel so fucking good.”
The hunger in his voice frightens me, but also sends me racing toward that explosion that’s careening closer. I try to claw myself back from it, but it’s like trying to claw my way out of the depths of hell while the Devil reels me in.
Without warning, Spider stops his relentless stroking on my clit. I’m not even given a second to process it as the need in me slowly reseeds like an ebbing tide before he releases my hair and spins me around.
Spider’s breathing is ragged as he pushes me to my knees.
With my arms bound, there’s nothing to do but drop to the floor.
He grips the back of my neck.
I’m not sure if I hate him more because he made my body react so crazily to him, or because he stopped stroking me seconds before I could plunge over the edge.
Or because I know what’s coming next.
The ache between my legs is painful, but as soon as I see him working open his pants, the heat burning me up inside cools.
His promise at the gas station careens back on me, and I try to rip myself out of his grasp, to knee walk backward. I’m so not ready for this.
Spider’s fingers tighten on my nape mercilessly. The pain makes my sex slicker.
“Look at me,” he growls.
It’s strange, but as hard as it is to look him in the eyes at the best of times, as soon as he gives the order, meeting his gaze suddenly becomes an insurmountable thing. I’m as terrified of what I’ll see there as I am of seeing a part of him that an unmarried woman is not meant to see.
My gaze shoots to the floor and won’t move.
“Why is this so hard for you?” He seizes my chin, jerking it up. “Look. At. Me.”
My eyes shoot straight to his face. The twist of his mouth lets me know he sees how hard this is for me.
He jerks me forward, pressing my face into his crotch. My nose brushes against the steely ridge of his hardness through his pants. The smell of him inundates my senses, hot and masculine and mixed with the heady scent of leather. The mixture is intoxicating. Poison to my veins.
I groan and try to turn my head away.
I can’t believe he’s doing this to me.
I can’t believe how turned on I am.
Spider pulls my head back and pushes his pants down to his hips. His maleness springs free, and I gulp.
He’s huge—long and thick and wickedly beautiful.
I’m going to go straight to the fires of hell for this, but I can’t look away. He’s magnificent.
Spider wraps his fist around his length and strokes it shamelessly. The sight is mesmerizing.
“You like what you see, Wildcat?” The hunger in his voice tugs at my nipples until they bunch, painfully hard. He traces my lips with his fingers.
His words break the spell and I tear my eyes away. He jerks my chin up again so that I’m looking right into his burning blue eyes. His fist is still moving slowly up and down his length.
“Come on then.” He cups my nape and pulls me toward him until my mouth is inches from his wide, purple cockhead. “Show me what that mouth is made of.”
My insides roil with shame, even while the helplessness of the situation makes my body feels as if it’s on fire. There’s nothing to do but give him what he wants.
I draw him slowly into my mouth, sliding my lips around the head. It feels even bigger than it looks, and the musky, rich scent of him makes my head swim. The taste of him is strange and erotic on my tongue. I stop, doubts seeping in and freezing me in place.
Until the sexiest primal growl rumbles from his throat. The need in that sound reaches down into my soul. A sense of rightness settles over me, seeding itself deeply.
“Fuck.” Spider’s fingers squeeze my nape and he thrusts into my mouth, stretching my jaw until it aches. “I knew your mouth was going to feel this fucking good.”
He’s so big and long he almost hits the back of my throat and he isn’t even in all the way up to the root. I choke and twist, but there’s no escape.
“Don’t pull away. Open your mouth.”
The command makes my sex ache all over again. I jerk my shoulders, trying to toss my head, but his fingers don’t give me an inch.
“Open your fucking mouth, or I’ll make you choke on it.”
I groan in shame and obey. Spider hums in satisfaction and slides in and out. When I try to close my mouth and push him out, he cups my jaw with one hand and the back of my head with the other. He glides in and out, slow, long strokes while trapping my head for his pleasure.
“Mmm. That’s it. Let me fuck your perfect mouth until I come.”
Lord help me, how is this so incredibly hot? The feel of his huge, rough hands imprisoning my head while he pleasures himself with my mouth… I’m so wet my sex is throbbing.
“Oh, fuck. So perfect, Wildcat.”
He growls, and then suddenly he’s thrusting in and out of my mouth fast and hard. His hardness turns even stiffer, his grip on my head tightens, and his cockhead is tapping the back of my throat.
I gag and choke, and he rumbles, a deep, greedy sound, as if it makes him hotter.
I scream around him in rage and fight for air. His grip tightens, a vice on my head and jaw, and he’s grunting hungrily, taking my mouth like the animal he is.
It’s a sin, it’s utterly humiliating, and I love it.
“Oh, shit, yeah!” he roars. “Greedy little thief, you’ll make me come so hard.”
One more grunt, and Spider spills his seed into my mouth and down my throat. I gag, trying to spit it up, but he keeps my head still, keeps my mouth full of his length, leaving me no choice but to drink his juices down.
“That’s it. Swallow every drop.”
My throat works. The taste of him is almost too much. The heat of his seed burns in my belly, hot and poisonous. My stomach roils with hatred for him, with humiliation with myself.
Spider hums in approval and pulls out of my mouth. He paints my lips with his cockhead, coating them with his come. His chest rises and falls hard on big growly breaths, and when he directs my gaze to his, I hate what I see there. His eyes gleam with triumph and mocking satisfaction as he drinks in the sight of my lips wet with his seed. A conqueror’s smile twists his lips.
“See? Was that so bad?” he purrs.
Rage sears my blood, burning away any need for the submission the Colony drilled into me. “Get. Away. From. Me,” I snarl.
He grins. “Never. Fuck, you felt so good, I can’t wait to feel your pussy milking me like that.”
“You touch me, and I’ll claw your eyes out.”
His cock jerks at my words, stirring to life.
“My Little Wildcat.”
“You’re an animal,” I spit.
He taps me on the nose. “I have to give you another mouth full soon.” He tucks himself away and does up his pants. Then he goes in behind me and unwinds his belt from my arms, freeing my hands.
I work my arms and shoulders. The same need for retribution I felt at the strip club burns my insides. I want to break this man’s jaw.
When I start getting to my feet, he grabs my shoulder, keeping me on my knees. “Stay there until I’m gone.”
Footsteps pad across the carpet. I look over my shoulder. Spider slips on his vest and then holsters his gun.
His cell phone vibrates, and he picks it up, scowling at the screen.
“Looks like I got some business to take care of.” He pockets the phone and comes around in front of me. “Get some sleep.” He strokes me under the chin and jerks his chin toward his bed. “You’ll need all your energy for what I’m going to do to
you tomorrow.”
I jerk my face away from his touch, my stomach roiling at the thought of what other sick, twisted things he intends to do to me.
He chuckles. “So perfect. I love it when you fight me. Never change, Wildcat. Be seeing you soon.”
Before I can come up with a suitable reply, he opens the door, and then he’s gone, shutting the bedroom door behind him and leaving me alone with my dark, malicious thoughts.
I need to get out of this place before he comes back, and not just because of what he might do to me when he returns.
I need to get out of here before he comes back, because if I don’t, I’ll end up committing the worst sin of all—killing him.
5
Waiting
For several minutes after Spider leaves, I can’t bring myself to move.
My thoughts spin, scattered and useless as I desperately try to process what just happened.
For what feels like hours but is probably less than a minute, I remain kneeling on his bedroom floor. It feels as if my brain has disconnected from my body, and it’s playing catch-up, struggling to come to grips with something that’s too big to fit inside my head.
A few weeks before I escaped the Colony, my best friend Sarah had been caught stealing food from one of the pantry sheds on Pastor Seth’s farm. Seth had been away on business, and I recall feeling a certain relief for her that it wouldn’t be him who dealt with her transgression.
Until I saw what was going to happen to her. Until I saw her being dragged by two guards past those of us who were working in his fields, straight for what the pastors called the Circle of Retribution.
A crowd of us were made to watch while she was tied to the whipping tree. Even now, I can still hear the swish and the crack of the belt echoing in my ears each time she was struck.
I have no memory of what happened or what anyone said to me for several hours following that incident. What I do remember is sitting on my bed sometime later, too angry, too shell shocked to process anything. The rest of the world ceased to exist while what I’d seen cycled through my head as if it was on an endless loop.
Kneeling on the carpet in Spider’s bedroom, this is exactly how I feel now. I can’t move, can’t think about anything but what he’d just did. Shell shock locks my brain down, blocking out all else.
