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As if reading my mind, Cason’s slow smile frightened me. He walked to the wall and made a big production out of perusing each one as if he were going to make his selection but he didn’t.
Instead, he walked slowly to me, his gaze holding me hostage, until he was in my personal bubble, crowding me, stealing the very air from the room.
“You deserve to have your ass beat,” he assured me, his voice sending shivers down my arms. “But I’d rather bend you over my knee so I can beat that ass with my bare hand. I’d love to see my hand print blazoned across that fine ass of yours but I don’t trust myself to stop.”
“Do you get off on beating women?” I replied with a bravery I didn’t feel.
“No, but for you, I think I could make an exception.”
This would’ve been a prime moment to spit in his face, like they do in the movies — it would be no less than he deserved — but I couldn’t. My lips parted. I wanted him to close the short distance between us, kiss me whether I wanted it or not.
Damn Cason, he seemed to know what was going through my head, too.
“There’s more to the little virgin than meets the eye…”
My cheeks blazed. I lifted my chin. “I won’t apologize for trying to save myself. If that means I screwed up your plans…I’m not sorry for that either. Do your worst. I’ll find a way to survive.”
But I wasn’t so sure about that.
Especially when Cason never seemed to follow the kidnapper playbook.
He leaned in, breathing in the space where my neck met my shoulders. The heat between us crackled, his soft breath tickled my skin. I gasped as his lips pressed against the delicate flesh.
Oh no, don’t do that.
My knees immediately wobbled as his tongue flicked my neck, his teeth nipping lightly as he traveled up the sensitive column of trembling muscle.
And then he sucked.
Softly at first, then hard.
I cried out as the warmth in my belly spread and my nipples pearled into hard beaded points of aching need.
He was marking me with a dark bruise on the tender flesh.
A hickey, in the most vulgar terms.
But I knew it was far more than that.
I knew as sure as I knew my name, Cason did it deliberately for one purpose — to remind me that I was his to do with as he pleased.
That even as Cason had saved me, no one was coming to save me from him.
I groaned as I fought the urge to thrust my hips toward him.
I wouldn’t beg. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
But the memory of what he could make my body do came crashing back and I was mindless with the desire to feel that soul-shattering pleasure again.
Good God, what was wrong with me?
The easy answer?
I was weak.
And I wanted Cason.
Chapter 15
Cason
I knew I should’ve put her on the wall and left the room.
I was in a dangerous mental space.
A predator prowled inside my mind, the events of the day still running through my head.
I would’ve ripped anyone to shreds who had touched Holly.
She was mine.
All that sweet flesh, her fire, the way she moaned when she came…
MINE.
Holly managed to turn me into a caveman with one primordial thought — FUCK.
My hands were shaking with the need to strip her bare and shove myself deep inside her.
But I hadn’t lied — I didn’t trust myself right now.
I wouldn’t stop.
I was driven by an insatiable need to conquer that I’d never experienced in my life.
Holly’s whimpers pierced the fog swirling my brain and I stumbled back, putting some much-needed distance between us.
She was breathing hard, her nipples poking out like beacons for my mouth.
I liked her wearing my shirt. It seemed perfect on her.
But fuck, I wanted to tear it away from her body so I could see her in the light.
I wanted to see those gorgeous tits. I wanted to tangle my tongue among her sweet curls.
I wanted to know if they were indeed, the same color as her head or if they were darker.
I swallowed, trying to regain control but my heart rate thundered, drowning out reason.
“I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” she called out, fear in her voice.
I didn’t answer. I had to get out of that room with her.
I shut the door and locked it, pocketing the key.
I needed to blow off some steam before I popped my top.
I had to be in control with Holly.
Detouring to the bar, I ordered a couple shots of whiskey to settle the fuck down.
I surveyed the crowd.
The masks obscured faces, which was the point.
The most alluring aspect of this place was the knowledge that you could be fucking with a billionaire or a postal worker. The anonymous nature was the appeal.
The place was supposedly a knock-off of another club in San Francisco, where only the elite were allowed in.
But this club wasn’t as exclusive.
It was seedier, a place where people who got off on danger could play with fire.
Yeah, I’d been here before.
My sister’s best friend, Shay, had been a server here.
Before Butcher had gotten a hold of her.
I suppressed the instant beast that growled inside my chest, ordering another whiskey.
Butcher didn’t come here any longer so I wasn’t worried about running into him prematurely.
But in the frame of mind I was in, I might’ve beat him with his own arms.
And that was simply too easy of a death for a perverted dick like Butcher.
My thoughts returned to Holly, secured to a wall in the private dungeon and I grit my teeth against the surge in my jeans.
As if my cock could get any harder.
I could have a medical situation if I didn’t find a way to chill.
I wanted Holly’s lips around my cock.
I wanted to watch as my length disappeared into her hot mouth, the shaft slick with her saliva as I pumped my load down her throat.
Fuck.
That wasn’t the way to calm down.
I felt someone staring.
I turned and found a woman, bare-chested, wearing a tiny glittery bikini came toward me. Dark hair flowed around her mask, her nipples, a nice dusky brown.
A little on the skinny side.
Nothing like my voluptuous prisoner who had curves for days.
Maybe that was better.
The opposite of Holly would work for me.
She came to me and immediately went for my cock. I strained against her hand.
“Seems you’re working with respectable equipment,” she purred, rubbing the hard length with covetous eyes. “Let me guess…about eight inches?”
“And thick as a soda can,” I drawled, letting my gaze travel down her body. “Let me see that ass, sweetheart.”
She turned slowly, glancing back over her shoulder with a coy grin. “Like what you see?”
“I do,” I answered. “What’s your name?”
“Candy.”
Stripper name. Obviously fake.
But I didn’t mind.
“Nice to meet you, Candy.” I didn’t offer up my name.
“And you are?” she fished.
“Not necessary,” I told her with a firm smile. Butcher may not frequent this place any more but that’s not to say that none of his posse didn’t. “Want to play?”
“Looks like I’ve been waiting all night for you, sugar.” She slipped her hand into mine and I led her to the room where I had Holly.
I could’ve picked a darkened hallway. I could’ve ducked into the bathroom.
But I wanted Holly to see this.
It was perverse.
Maybe even downright cruel of
me, but I was driven by something I couldn’t quite define — a mixture of anger, possession, need, want, confusion — and I wanted to punish Holly for it.
I unlocked the door with Candy in tow.
Holly sucked in an audible breath.
Candy saw Holly and smiled with interest. To me, she said, “Kinky” before she began shimmying out of her tiny bikini bottoms. “Is she watching or participating?”
