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“Tell me you like it,” Malachi says. I don’t know that I do. I slowly look at him, eyes casting over his ominous frame in this room full of pain and dust. “Tellhimyou like it, Mrs Tanner.”
Him.
Gray.
The room sways and morphs, vision drifting from clear to murky, and then something touches my lips. Small. Round. “Swallow.” Yes, swallow.
I do, licking the pill into my mouth and letting it go down. Down, down, down. Another pill. Another new point in time full of things Mrs Tanner never does. “Do you like it?” Something slithers across my neck. Cold, hard. Metal. Pressure on me. Heavy and weighted against my collarbone. “Tell Gray how much you’d like him to touch you like this.”
My gaze drifts back to the gloom, vision searching for him. He’s there, backed up against a wall, his body calm against the surface. I would like that. I’d like to feel him closer to me, his eyes on mine and the connection we felt.
Another blow lands low on my legs, then hip, then so close to the apex of my thighs I yelp and jerk from the sensation. Again, and again, and again. I twist, turn. Try pulling my feet from the floor to crunch myself into a ball. Nothing. I’m held fast, Malachi’s body a post I’m anchored against. And this thing at my throat stays steady. As if stopping me from moving forward, sideways, away.
“Tell him you like it.”
I nod weakly under the torment, unsure whether I like it or not. I feel, though. I feel alive and willing, used, perhaps abused, but content to be on show. Another rally of pain lands, fingers biting in this time. They crawl and climb higher on my leg, scratching, digging in and causing more pain. I whimper, a long mewl of need or torment burrowing under the surface that drives me insane.
“Talk, Hannah.”Gray.I search for him again, trying to find clear vision under this storm I’m in. Low words. Moody words. Gruff and indistinct. “Tell me.”
My head shakes at the continued sound of him. It echoes and swarms through me, the same words repeating over and over again.Tell me. Talk. I can’t talk, though. Can’t think, let alone talk. It all hurts. Everything. And it’s blurred and fuzzy, the world spinning and turing. Hands digging in tighter. The strap moving over me. The thing at my throat edging back and forth slowly. I swallow, letting whatever it is ride the bob on my neck as it moves.
“Pretty things need help to learn,” Malachi whispers in my ear. “And men need temptation and tease. Use your words for him.”
I squirm as his hand moves lower, unsure where it’s heading until it lands at the top of my panties. It inches in, making me frown at the feeling. I don’t want that. I want Gray’s hand there. Gray’s fingers.
The feeling makes me twist, wrenching my head around until the thing at my throat loosens slightly, and I rattle the chains in frustration. I don’t know why I’m frustrated. It’s come from somewhere deep inside. I’m wound tight. Pushed that way and waiting for something to tip me over the edge of a cliff I’ve never been over.
Tip, tip, tip.
My hands grip the chains tighter, searching for something to cling to.
Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
“You.” The word spills out of my mouth, nothing making any sense other than it. You. Gray. Here. Now. On me. In me.
A stuttered breath labours out of me, as the metal at my neck takes hold again, my thighs clamping onto each other because of it. I need to ease this ache, find something to subdue it or build more from it. “Tighter,” mutters from me. “Harder.”
The metal moves, weaving back and forth over me. It rides downwards through my breasts, curving a trail over the soft skin and heaving chest.
“She begs for you, Gray.”
The woman’s voice. A pretty lilt in this room of dark and shadows. I look for her, pulled to the lightness of it, but it’s a gruff sound of annoyance that finds me first. “This won’t work. You’re being petty, Malachi.” I squirm as the cold hits my stomach, buckling under its descent and grinding my ass into Malachi’s stiff cock behind me. I’d take it now. I would. Anything to make the feeling dissipate.
“More,” moans from me.
A zipper sounds. Too close, though. Not the one I want. I scowl at the sound of it, eyes focused on the figure still leaning on the wall watching me. He’s not moving, though. He’s perfectly still. No reaction. No offer of himself on me.
That’s not enough for me.
Chapter 2
Gray
You’d think after all this time with him I’d be immune to his teases and taunts, able to disregard them. With her, and her skin, and her low whimpers and moans, I’m not. It makes me glare at the look of her, annoyed with my own flaws and unamused with this line of games.
Faith moves in my eye-line, crossing the room to reach Malachi and Hannah. She moves slowly, seductively, just as she always does, and reaches for Hannah’s body to drag her fingernails over it. More teasing, more baiting and pushing.
A growl leaves my lips, irritation and pent up desires fuelling it.
