“You’re awfully brave for someone with nowhere to run.” I raise my hand and her eyes follow its movement, but she doesn’t flinch when I reach up and gently tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Unless, you’re just wanting to be caught.”
I see the moment she decides to scream, but I’m faster, slapping my hand over her mouth before she gets the chance. Shock washes over her face before her small hands fly up, attempting to tear mine away. She claws at the backs of mine, but I continue dragging us through the building.
“I need you to calm down. If anyone sees you acting like this—” I’m cut off by the sudden pain from her teeth sinking into the fleshy part of my palm. “Fuck!” I release my hand, letting her go.
She smirks, giving me a look that makes me want to wipe it clean off her face. She doesn’t see my hand moving until it’s too late.
I grab the back of her head, her hair tangling in my grip. I pull her into me, keeping my fingers wrapped around the strands, tightening my hold when she moves, and my dick growshard feeling her against me. I’m not sure if it’s her struggle, the faint whimpers leaving her mouth, or the few tears leaving her eyes that makes me want to throw her into the wall, tear off her jeans, and fuck her right here.
It’s impossible to hide what she’s doing to me, not that I would if I could. Her body tenses up when I push my hips into her, her mind registering just how close I am.
“You know, Kitty Cat, I like it when you claw at me. It makes me wonder what I’ll have to do to hear you purr.” I push her front against the wall, my hand leaving her hair before sliding around to her throat, giving it a light squeeze.
With my free hand, I push the hair out of her face and lean in, my lips grazing her earlobe. “I’m going to put my hand back over your mouth, because I don’t trust you to be quiet.” I pull her back into me, letting her feel just how hard she’s made me. “If that pretty little mouth of yours bites me again, it won’t be a scream that fills it.” I lean back, giving her an inch of space. “Nod your head ‘yes’ if you understand this.” I hiss out the last part, remembering how she reacted when Fenris asked her if she understood what he said.
When she nods, I spin her around to face me, and she sucks in a breath. I slowly drag my fingers down her face before I stop and press my hand back over her mouth. I realize she must’ve broken skin when she bit me from the red smeared across her cheeks. My dick throbs, painfully pressing against the confines of my jeans. I keep my voice low, hoping to see the fear grow in her eyes. “You made me bleed.”
Her panic is starting to outpace the potential poker face she tries to wear. “Lick it clean. Make up for it. Unless—” I pause and bring my lips to hers. “Unless making me bleed is foreplay… Pain is the prettiest way to start.” I tilt my head as I scan her face. My blood, her fear, such an ethereal mixture. There’s alarm rooted behind those pretty eyes of hers, but I see something else creepin. Want. She tries to hide it, but I see it for what it is. She’s enjoying this.
Her head jerks from side to side, so I pinch her nose shut. My fingers press hard against her nostrils, cutting off her air, controlling every breath she tries to take. When she bucks against me, I position my legs, caging hers in. “You’ll be out cold if you don’t clean it.” Her lower lids fill with tears, leaving streaks as they start falling down her face. She tries to hold them in, but when she blinks, they only fall faster.
Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink from the lack of oxygen, and right when I think she’s about to go limp, she shifts. I feel her warm, wet tongue tremble against my hand. I release my grip, allowing her a quick breath of fresh air. But just as I do, her tongue stops. I go to close her nose again but she realizes my intentions and starts tickling my palm with her tongue. I close my eyes and imagine her licking the tip of my dick. Her warm tongue trailing me up and down. My entire length covered in her spit. I press my hand into her face, pushing the side of her head against the wall in a final motion before I pull away.
As I wipe my hand on the sleeve of her shirt and peer down at her, I can see she’s running through all the ways she can escape. But I know something she doesn’t. She’s in his world now, and in his world, no one escapes. Without another word I snatch her arm and continue walking. Nothing wrong with letting her dream a little bit longer. It’ll be snuffed out soon enough.
As we continue walking I can’t help but wonder, how long will it be before she realizes she’s trapped? And how long before she realizes that I am part of her cage?
Chapter Four
Catarina
His fingers dig into my arm and I can tell I’m going to be sore tomorrow. It’ll probably even bruise. But that’s the least of my worries, or it should be. He just made me suck off his hand. What the actual fuck was that? I lick my lips, still tasting him on my tongue. The bitter salt of sweat mixed with copper from the blood on his palm. Somehow that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was the moment I’m trying not to think about—the sliver of a second where I liked it.
My nipples are still tight from feeling him grind into me. When he yanked my hair back, I should have wanted to scream out in pain, not pleasure.
“You were seriously going to let me pass out?” He cocks his head at me.
“No.” His lips curl. “You were going to choose to pass out.”
My voice is dry. “What kind of bullshit is that?”
He doesn’t reply, he just keeps us moving through the halls. The only sound I hear are the heels of my shoes clicking against the floor. The tension between us grows with every step. Everynow and then I catch him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“This is the library.” He gestures to a room filled with towering shelves of books. The air smells of ink and dust, and I hate how quiet it is.
“Wow.” I motion toward them. “I thought all of these were just for decoration.” He doesn’t bother reacting. He just walks away leaving me to scramble after him.
Our next stop is the dining hall, long tables are scattered throughout, and not in any particular pattern. “Do you host many dinner parties?”
His eyes narrow. “No.”
I roll mine. “You’re not exactly the most charming tour guide.”
“And your welcome wore off the second you opened your mouth,” he shoots back. My pulse still hasn’t leveled out since he tried to kill me, but I step into him anyway.
“Maybe I’m just more than you can handle.” He traces his thumb against my lips and warmth slides between my thighs.
“That mouth of yours. It’s always moving, isn’t it?” His hand shifts and he pinches my cheeks together until my lips pucker. “Sooner or later I’m going to find a better use for it.” I stare at him, holding my breath, thinking he might say something else—or even better, do something—before I feel his hand fall away.
