And then I’m back there. In the bedroom that would become my prison for the next thirteen months. Coming out of a drug-induced haze, trying to fight as Michael clamped a metal cuff around my ankle.
“What are you doing, Michael?” Tears blurred my vision but not enough to miss the cruel set of his jaw, the satisfied tilt of his smile. He grabbed my other ankle as I kicked out at him. His dark eyes narrowed on me.
“This will go much easier for you if you just accept that I own you now.” He raked his gaze down my body, and I was suddenly aware of the cold air.
Oh my God, I’m naked. I wrapped my arms around my bare breasts as a sob escaped. This couldn’t be happening. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
He dropped my leg and unbuckled his belt. “Just making lemonade out of lemons, Samantha. You shouldn’t have been so nosey.” Once he has his belt in his hand, he folds it in half. “The choice was to kill you or find a way to control you. You should thank me. I spared your life.”
I screamed as the belt cane down like fire on my stomach. He grabbed my hands and jerked them over my head, bringing the belt down hard across my breasts. One blow after another rained down on my body in a violent assault. My throat was raw from screaming. I was trembling and sweating by the time he removed the rest of his clothes and climbed on top of me.
“Please… don’t…” I sobbed. But I saw the excitement in his eyes, felt the hard length of it pressed between my legs. And knew that my nightmare had just begun.
I’m not sure how much time has gone by when I tune back in to Killian’s voice. “Sam, you’re safe. Wherever you just went, you’re not there.” Then I feel a cold sensation in my palm. Slowly I look down. He’s pressing ice from the champagne bucket into my palm, closing my fingers around it. “Can you feel that?”
I nod slowly, blinking, disconnected and far away.
He curses under his breath. “Tell me three things you smell, yeah.”
His voice is a gentle command, so I obey. “Chlorine, saltwater,” I blink, the world drawing closer as I bring my gaze up to meet his. “Your cologne. It’s nice. New.”
He opens my palm and lets the melted ice fall. “Good girl. Welcome back.”
Shit. I dissociated.A shiver wracks my body.
He reaches out like he wants to hold me but hesitates. “Will you at least talk to Lennon about it?”
Is that who he learned the ice trick from, and the tell-me-three-things-you-smell one, to get someone grounded?
I sit up, feeling the panic set in. I shake my head. “I won’t put her in danger. I need to go. It’s late.” Pushing myself to standing, I glance around for my bra.
Killian stands, too, then moves in front of me. “Hang on a minute, Sam.”
I raise my chin and meet his eyes, clocking the shifting emotions.Concern. Rage. Empathy. “This devil… is that who you’re running from?” When I open my mouth then quickly close it, he sighs. “You can at least tell me that, yeah.”
I’m wrecked. Exhausted. Confused. Scared. “Yes,” I say, sounding exasperated to my own ears. I have to go before I say too much. But I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate our time together tonight. Because I do. It’s the first time a man has touched me since Michael. The first time I’ve wanted a man to touch me. It’s a breakthrough. A little bit of healing. And now a memory of sex being good.
I find and reclasp my wet bra, then walk back to stand in front of him. Looking up into his now guarded expression, I make sure he can see the sincerity in mine. “Thank you for tonight.” I lift up on my toes and press a soft kiss to his mouth.
He reaches out and runs a warm palm down my arm. “Let me give you a ride home.”
I shake my head and fight the need to step into him. My priority has to be getting Rona out of Florida. I can’t get distracted by this man, as much as I want to. “I’m good. I have my car.”
He doesn’t reach out for me. Just accepts my decision and lets me walk away.
Chapter 22
Killian
Iwatch her slip her dress back on and step into the elevator without a glance backward.
Scrubbing my hands over my face in frustration, I let out a low moan. “For fuck’s sake. Great job, mate. You’re the one bloody ruined now, you goddamn eejit.” She’s running through my veins now like a drug, her soft body, her kisses, her moans. Her absence feels like a vacuum in my black soul. I kick over a champagne bucket as I cross the deck.
I get dressed and make my way down to the main deck where there are four men on guard. I approach them. “The cleaners will be here at 6 AM. Unless the world is endin’ do not fuckin’ disturb me.”
Letting warm water run over my head, back, and down my arse, I can’t help but replay what happened between us tonight. Having my tongue buried in Sam’s warm cunt, the taste of her arousal, her sexy moans, her fingers digging into my skull as she screamed my name. Bloody addicting.
I rest my palm on the tile wall, hissing as I give my aching balls a squeeze. If I don’t take care of this, I’m going to find out whether death by exploding dick is possible. I grab the bottle of soap, lather up my body to wash off the night and then wrap a soapy hand around my granite cock. Shutting my eyes, I start outwith long, hard strokes, flashbacks of Sam’s mouth feeding my arousal. I find a punishing rhythm, my fantasy surpassing what we did tonight, and it doesn’t take long before I’m exploding in my hand as I imagine being buried balls deep inside her. I wash the come off as my breathing returns to normal. I’m nowhere near satisfied. In fact, I’m feckin’ aching for another hit of the bleedin’ woman.
