“How does that feel?” Jethro asked, coming back around.
My shoulders screamed; my blood throbbed with effort to reach my raised fingertips. I dangled with no chance at escape.
How does it feel?
It fucking hurt! It made my previous thoughts of lust seem ridiculous.
All concepts of seducing him disappeared. I only wanted this over fast, so I could admit defeat and lick my wounds in private.
“I asked you a question,” Jethro growled, his hand stroking my spine.
I flinched at his touch. It was sacrilegious, because even now itstillmade my core clench with want. “It hurts. Is that what you want to hear?”
Jethro’s torso pressed against my back, squashing my cheek against the damp wood of the post. The crispness of plants and the musky scent of earth overpowered his smell, giving me a welcome reprieve from the man who drove me mad.
“You look rather tempting like this, Ms. Weaver. Perhaps it will bemebegging before this is done.”
I couldn’t stop my skin shivering with awareness or my heart seizing with anxiety and desire.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
With a small laugh, he pushed away, ceasing contact.
I twisted my neck, never letting him from my sight. I hated having him so close. I hated that I had no power to stop him. I hated how he stood there, wrapped in silence, watching me like some mystery he had yet to solve.
We didn’t speak, waiting to see who would break first.
Finally, after a minute, he said softly, “I’m going to give you a history lesson, Ms. Weaver. You’ll listen closely and understand why you’re repaying this certain debt.” Pacing, he added, “Every debt will begin this way. The history will be told, then the debt repaid. You’ll be informed of what your ancestors did to mine. You will apologise and repent for their past sins, and only then will the extraction take place.”
Coming close, his body heat burned me. His words were tiny whips lashing my ear. “If you do not repent and permit the debt to be paid, you will be beaten. If you do not accept why a debt has to be paid, the extraction will be taken twice. Do you understand?”
Twice?
Double horror.
Double terror.
Then...I laughed. Morbid, yes, but the image in my head was comical.
“You mean to tell me, you’ll behead me twice?” I smiled. “Are you necromancers as well as lunatics? Please, inform me on how that will work.”
His hand lashed out, spanking my denim-clad behind.
I groaned, jolting in the binds. I couldn’t unravel the painful smarting from his strike and the throbbing in my nipples and clit.
Shit. Don’t let him see that he’s broken my mind already. If he touched me, felt how drenched I was, I would never live with myself again.
“I’ve had enough of your mouth, Ms. Weaver.”
“Are you sure? Didn’t seem that way in the forest with my lips around you. Did you know that was my first ever blowjob?”
He sucked in a breath. His hand landed in my hair, fisting the thickness and burning my scalp. His lips tickled my ear as he whispered, “You keep taunting me with what happened in the forest. Do you think just because you swallowed that I’m what...grateful? Sentimental? Inlove?” He shook me. “What, Ms. Weaver? Shall I not remind you it wasyouwho clenched around my tongue so hard you almost fucking bruised me? Every lick and fucking taste I had of your pussy, I drove you wild.” He trailed the tip of his tongue from my ear to my cheek.
I trembled, every part of me tightening.
“We’re on even ground. Orgasm for an orgasm. Don’t think it gives you power, because it doesn’t.”
I breathed hard, trying to find some resemblance of the hatred I’d nursed. But he pressed his body flush against mine, grinding his erection into the small of my back.
