His hand slides through the collar of his shirt I have on, and he wraps his fingers around my neck, making me arch it.
His free hand grabs the bottle that hangs to my side. Bringing it up to my lips, he says, “Open.”
He pours the wine down my throat, and I choke on it. Making it cover my face, neck, and clothes. It splatters across the window I stand in front of. “Sin,” I snap, pushing him away and turning to face him, his hand now slipping free of the shirt.
The open curtains now behind me give the room a little light from the outside porch lights streaming in. He’s dressed in his black jeans and black hoodie. All he’s missing is his mask, contacts, and gloves to be my hero. I hate that the guy who saved me is the same guy who no longer wants me. “Get the fuck out of my house,” I growl, walking past him. My shoulder bumping into his.
“Get on your knees,” he orders.
A laugh bubbles up my chest and spills out of my lips. I turn around to face him. The look on his face tells me he was not joking. “You get what you give, Sin, and I don’t give a fuck anymore.” With that, I turn, giving him my back and heading to my bedroom.
His hand grips my hair, and he yanks my back into his front.
“Sin,” I growl, my hands grabbing at his forearms. Digging my nails into his skin, I hope I make him bleed. “Let go of me.” My legs kick out as he lifts me off my feet, carrying me over to the back of the couch. My pussy clenching with excitement. He’s here for me. And if he’s here for me that means he’s not there for her.
“Is this how we’re going to play, Elli?”
I whimper and wetness pools in my underwear. No. No. No. “Just leave. Ple-ease,” I beg him. My heart hammering.
He chuckles, pinning my front into the back of the couch while standing behind me. “Going to fight me?” He grabs my hands and yanks them behind my back, pinning them in place while gripping my forearms together in one hand. His free hand grabs my hair, yanking my head up, forcing me to stare up at the ceiling, panting. “Make me take what already belongs to me?”
I try to wiggle free but there’s nowhere to go and my thighs clench. Hating myself more than I could ever hate him. James was right, I respond better to beatings. Bruises and scars are what I get off on. Why am I like this? Would I have been this way had my father never died and my mother had not married James? We’ll never know. “Fuck you, Sin,” I manage to grind out.
Another dark chuckle. “Go ahead, little demon. If fighting me makes you feel better about yourself, I’m okay with that.”
Another whimper escapes my lips, and he yanks me from the couch. Turning me around, he lets go of me and I slap him across the face.
He reaches out, painfully gripping my neck with both of his hands, taking away my air. Placing his face in mine, he smiles when he speaks. “We both know that I have no problem taking what I want.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
SIN
HER BODY FIGHTS me but she’s weak and drunk. I’ve been watching her all day on the cameras. It just wasn’t enough. This is much better. Pretty ice-blue eyes wide with terror, her small body pressed up against mine. Fuck, I’ve missed her, and it’s only been five days.
Her hands slap at my arms, her body jerking in my grasp. Lips parted, and I watch her long, dark lashes flutter when her arms drop to her sides. “That’s it, Elli. Such a good girl.” Leaning forward, I press my lips to hers gently, feeling the softness of them against mine.
I don’t give a fuck what either of our future’s hold. She will always be mine. I’m here to remind her of that.
Pulling back, I see her eyes roll back into her head and I let go of her neck, her legs give out and I catch her. She lies across my arms, dazed and coughing. I lay her on the couch and leave her there, knowing she won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve got to get some things together because I’m going to be staying the night. Maybe a couple.
_______________
I SIT ON the couch, my arms fanned across the back, my eyes on the TV. It’s on but muted. I’m not one to really watch much television, but I’ve got to do something to pass the time until she wakes up.
My eyes go to the chair that sits facing me. When I returned from the basement, she was passed out on the couch like I knew she would be. I picked her up, undressed her and brought a chair in from the kitchen. She’s sitting up, her legs spread wide open, ankles tied to each front leg. I also tied her knees open to it. Her arms are behind her back, draped over the top of the chair and tied down to the back, and I stuffed a pillow between her and the back of the chair to push out her hips.
I want her open. Vulnerable. Able to see everything. She’s got the posture collar on to keep her chin up and three pieces of tape over her mouth. Two in an X, then the extra across both.
She stirs and a smile tugs at my lips. It takes her a few minutes for the fog to lift and reality to sink in. Wide eyes meet mine and she begins to mumble behind the tape. She jerks, her body fighting in the chair.
I watch her nipples harden and her hips lift off the seat as much as possible. I lean forward, grip the chair, and yank her to where it touches the end of the couch, my legs spread wide for her to sit between them. I run my hands up and down her thighs and she whimpers.
“About time you wake up for me.” My hand slides between her legs and my fingers spread her pussy wide open for my thumb to run over her clit, making her jump. The way I’ve got her seated, her hips are pushed out farther than her chest. So I’ve got enough access to her cunt to play with. Most of her weight is back on her underarms that are draped over the back.
This isn’t about being comfortable. It’s about being mine.
Pulling away, I shove the chair back a little and to my left so I can reach the coffee table in front of the couch. I pick up the little pink egg and the lube. I pop it open and cover the silicone with it. Then I turn to her, my hand going back between her legs. She mumbles unintelligible words behind the tape as I fuck her with my fingers a few times before slipping it inside her.
I hold up the remote and her watery eyes go from mine to it. “Remember when I tied you up and got you off with the wand?” I ask, smiling at the memory. It was back in the beginning when I snuck into her room as her savior. “You got off, what, five or six times?”
She blinks, her chest heaving.
“We’re going to do that again.” I turn on the remote and her back bows, body stiffening for a brief second before she starts thrashing in the chair.
I sit back, my eyes falling to her body, watching her hips ride the chair as if it’s my cock inside her. She’s sucking in breaths through her nose, her taped cheeks caving in, and nipples hard. “Gorgeous,” I say, and she whimpers.
She screams into the tape and her body goes stiff as I watch her come. I shut it off and she slumps in the chair. Watery eyes meet mine.
Lifting my hips up off the couch, I remove what I want out of my jeans pocket. Her eyes widen when she sees me remove the lid. “That’s one.” I lean forward, running the tip of the black Sharpie down her chest about three inches long. Putting it back on, I smile at her. “I don’t want to lose track. And I don’t expect you to either. When forced to orgasm over and over, your mind tends to turn to mush.”