Condemned (9 page)

I couldn’t breathe, and not because his hands threatened to shut off my air, but for the first time, I really allowed myself to see what I’d done to him. “Kill me,” I said, hot, salty drops of regret trickling into my mouth. “I deserve it.”

He narrowed his eyes—eyes suddenly bright with pain—and pressed harder on my throat.

My mouth opened, and I gasped as spots floated in the air. The room narrowed, walls closing in a little more with each thump of my heart. I thought it would pound out of my chest. “Do it,” I squeaked.

“
Fuck
me,” he choked out. The vulnerability in his tone tore me in two. He let go of my throat, and I sucked in air until I thought my lungs would burst.

“I wish I could take it back,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I’d caused him so much pain, had ruined his life. I’d done this to the only guy I’d ever loved. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I said it over and over, wishing he’d believe me, wishing I could turn back time. “If you need to talk about it—”

“Shut up.” He returned me to my side and trapped me against his body. “It’s late. Get some damn sleep.” Instead of returning me to the cellar, he clung to me, one hand fisting my hair while the other claimed my breast. His legs tangled with mine.

I knew this conversation was far from over. He wouldn’t stop until he got the truth, and I wondered how long I could hold out. How many choke holds could I handle? How many hours suspended by my wrists, alone in the cold, dank cellar? How many times could I withstand him torturing me with sex?

I brought my fists up, pressed them to trembling lips, and dug sharp fingernails into my palms. When it came to Rafe, I never knew what was coming next, and I didn’t know what he was capable of, especially in light of his admission. I shuddered to think of what he’d been through. I
was
a pampered, spoiled brat. Selfish to the core. I should have stopped it. I should have spoken up and told the police the truth, but as the first hours passed, most of them spent in a state of shock, I lost what small bit of courage I might have possessed. Hours turned into days…days into months…months into years.

All the while, Rafe had been in hell.

For all the tough guy front he put up, I believed he did care about me, somewhere inside him where the guy I remembered still existed. He might have loved me, if things had turned out differently. If I hadn’t wrecked him.

Life was what it was. I couldn’t change the past. I could only deal with the present as it hurtled toward me.

Sometime later, his breathing evened into gentle snores, and I carefully tugged my hair from his fist and lifted his warm palm from my breast. Little by little, I extricated myself from his hold and crawled from bed. When a floorboard creaked under my foot, I froze, fear rising in my throat in the form of a lump. He didn’t move. I swallowed hard and inched toward the panel that would drop the ladder onto the first floor.

God, I was quaking like a leaf. The situation reminded me of one of those scary movies I used to make Lucas watch with me—the ones where I’d yell at the heroine, lamenting her stupidity because there was no way she was getting out of there alive.

I had to. For both our sakes. I didn’t hold anything against him. The horrors he’d experienced in prison were my fault. I wouldn’t take that from him, wouldn’t attempt to deflect blame. We all made choices, some good, some bad. When it came to bad decisions, Rafe and I were batting one for one.

So I
had
to get out of there before the situation escalated and he did something we’d both regret.

I kept his sleeping form in my periphery and released the ladder. It dropped to the floor with a ridiculous amount of racket, and my whole body stiffened. He rolled over, underneath the layers of blankets, and for a moment I wanted to crawl back into bed with him. What a ridiculous notion.

As soon as his soft snores resumed, a burst of adrenaline shot through me. I climbed down the steps and landed with a soft thud on the hardwood floor. I turned in the darkened room, thankful for the heavy rain hitting the roof in a cacophony of taps and dings. Under the cover of noise and shadow, I rushed through the house in search of my clothes. Heck, I’d settle for a jacket at this point.

If need be, I’d walk out of that house buck-naked.

I headed toward the kitchen, hoping to find a coat in the closet by the door. Turning the corner, I shook with a mixture of anticipation and dread. It was
deja vu
, and I was back in my house on the night of my engagement, preparing to take hold of freedom with both hands, to hell with the consequences.

I smashed into a body, and at first I thought it was Rafe until the deep voice registered—a voice I didn’t recognize.

“What are you doing wandering around by yourself?”

“Rafe!” I screamed, turning and running toward the loft, as if my life depended on it. I screamed for him again as my feet threatened to slide across the hardwood. I was in such a frantic hurry to get up the ladder that my foot slipped on the first rung, and my chin hit the wood hard. I fell on my ass, my jaw throbbing, and palmed my breasts as a figure loomed over me.

Her scream jerked me from sleep, and I sprang to my feet. Adrenaline flooded my system, and I couldn't recall how I got to the opening of the ladder, but I was peering into the darkness when a light switched on. Alex cowered at the bottom, her petite hands covering her tits.

Jax stood next to her. He looked up and took in my questioning glance with a shrug. “She freaked the fuck out, man.”

“Just a sec. I’ll be right down.” I threw on a black shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and pulled on my jeans. The belt hung over my dick, unbuckled as I descended the steps.

Alex sent me a nervous glance, eyes wide and chest heaving behind those hands that did little to conceal her tits. Part of me wanted to drag her back to bed and fuck her again. The other part wanted to see how this played out. I already tasted her humiliation, craved it even.

“Get up,” I said, my face hardening into a stern expression. I turned toward Jax. “Want a look?”

He arched a brow. “She's a naked woman. What do you think?”

Alex scooted away, bare ass sliding across the hardwood. I grabbed a fist full of her hair and brought her to her feet.

“Leave me alone!” She attempted to pull away, though she still didn’t move her hands, and I almost laughed at the way she was standing, like a comical version of a woman needing to pee but trying to hold it.

“Arms at your sides,” I ordered. She needed to know I was willing to go to any length to control her, and that included sharing her. Of course, I’d cut off my arm before I’d share her, but she didn’t know that. The threat of handing her off to Jax should go a long way toward breaking her stubborn will.

I yanked on her hair. “Hands at your sides!”

Her sob should have cut me to pieces. That would be the normal reaction, but her cries made me want to do dirty, nasty things that would turn those cries into screams. I bunched my hands as she dropped hers. Her nipples puckered, no doubt from the chill in the cabin.

“Touch her tits,” I said to Jax.

He narrowed his eyes. “You sure?”

No, not at all. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Alex needed to know she had no sway with me. What better way to show her how little she meant than to let another man fondle her? He reached a hand out, paying no heed to her struggle, and brushed a fingertip across her nipple. Watching him touch her was harder than expected. She sucked in a breath and her body went lax against me, as if she knew she was outnumbered and couldn’t stop this.

She was right. She had no control on this island, and it was time she figured it out.

I gritted my teeth as Jax stepped closer and settled both palms over her tits. “You’re a lucky man, you sonofbitch.”

I might have taken offense, but the name fit my mother perfectly.

“They’re a little on the small side, but she’s a looker,” he said, continuing to mold her tits to his hands.

Agitation twisted her face, and she spit at him. “Get your hands off of me!”

He stepped back, out of the line of spit, and I jerked her back by the hair. “You need to learn a little respect, especially toward my roommate. Jax lives here, so you’d better get used to being naked around him.” I grabbed her face, forcing her watery eyes on mine. “If I tell you to let him touch you, you fucking let him touch you. If I tell you to suck his cock, you wrap that sweet mouth around his cock. You’re going to do as you’re told, got it?”

“No, I don't ‘got it,’” she said with a sneer. “I’m not a plaything you can pass around to your buddies. What the hell is wrong with you?”

I raised a brow. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I shoved her to her knees and held her head between hands that shook with rage. “What’s wrong with me is your attitude.” Fuck, she was getting under my skin. “Jax, unzip.” I took in his stunned expression. Obviously, he hadn't expected this development, and neither had I, but it was too late to back down, even if the thought of her mouth touching his cock before it touched mine set my blood boiling.

He only displayed a moment of hesitancy before unbuttoning his jeans. Alex was a tempting package, and I doubted there was a straight man alive that would pass up the chance to have that mouth fastened around his dick. Even Jax, who had issues when it came to being touched, wouldn’t say no.

He lowered his zipper and whipped out his junk. She tensed, edging her head sideways as he came near her. I tightened my hold, indecision warring within me. I wanted her mouth around my cock, no one else’s, but I needed to see this through.

Jax took another step and stopped just short of brushing his tip against her lips.

“Open your fucking mouth,” I told her.

She jerked her head back and forth, so I pressed my fingers into her jaw until she had no choice but to open. I glanced at Jax. “Give her a taste.”

Visibly swallowing, he slowly inched his tip past her lips.

“You like him on your tongue? How about if he really goes for it? Have you ever had a man deep-throat you?”

Her protest came out as a mangled reply around his dick, and her tears slid onto my hands while I forced her head still.

Jax’s eyelids fell, and I caught the slight shudder in his body. The tightness of his face wasn’t one of pleasure, and I realized this was going too far for him. Fuck, who was I kidding? This was going too far for me.

“You either suck his cock, or you go back into the cellar. Your choice.”

She jerked her head back. “Cellar,” she said, no hesitation whatsoever, and I smiled. The only cock she wanted was mine. I pulled her to her feet, and Jax stumbled back and zipped his pants.

I pushed her to the door of the cellar, and he followed, though he didn't trail us down the stairs. The door shut with a loud bang. She flung my hands off her and backed up, toward the racks of wine bottles. The tears that trickled down her face, dripping onto her tits, should have softened me, but they didn’t. I wanted to lick each one from her skin, savoring the salt on my tongue. Savoring her pain.

The law saw me as nothing more than a rapist. A degenerate. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them now.

“Get in the cage.”

“No!” She snatched a wine bottle, stared at it for a couple of seconds in her shaking grasp, and busted it on the wall. Deep red wine splashed at her feet. Lifting an unsteady arm, she gripped the jagged neck with whitened knuckles and widened her stance, as if ready to fight me.

Shit, she probably was. Maybe I’d finally found the secret button of hers—the one that sent her into a corner cowering with the realization that a cruel sonofabitch held her life in his hands. No more notions of romance and love-making. But she wasn’t exactly cowering now. She was ready to take me on, like a cornered tiger.

Fuck, it was a turn-on, especially since my claws were bigger than hers. “Put it down,” I said, the words tearing from my lips in a snarl.

“You’re crazy, Rafe! How could you offer me up to him?” she screamed the words, her face distorted into something I’d never seen on her delicate features. “How could you choke me?” Her entire body trembled, and I recognized the adrenaline rushing through her, the need to take control, but I didn’t believe she had it in her.

Until she jumped at me with the makeshift weapon and swiped the air.

Shit. She wasn’t kidding.

I put my hands up. “Calm down. At least I wouldn’t try to slice you up, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!” Her face twisted in despair. “Please, let me go. Please…Rafe. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sweetheart,” I said, just to goad her, “you’re not even close to hurting me.”

She only hesitated an instant before her arm shot out again and jagged glass came way too close for comfort.

Ducking, I caught her wrist and squeezed until the bottle dropped and splintered at our feet. “Come at me like that again and you’ll wish the devil was down here with you.” I wrenched her hands behind her back, trapped her against me, and wrapped an arm around her throat. Her breaths puffed out, each slow exhale indicating she was giving in. At least, that’s what I thought. I loosened my arm, a mistake, because she sank her teeth into my inked bicep, stomped on my foot, and tore up the stairs.