Chapter 24

I've barely caughtmy breath when my computers ding from the other room.

"I've gotta check that," I tell him.

Draven grunts, rolling off me. His cock slips from my hole. A hiss escapes at the rawness left behind. Draven turns me over without a word, spreading my buttcheeks apart.

"What are you doing?" I gasp, my face burning.

"My job. I need to be sure ye arenae torn."

"But…"

"Yes, yer butt. Now, lay still and let Daddy look."

I bury my face in the pillow as he inspects his handiwork. Embarrassment floods my face, making me grateful for the pillow.

Draven pokes and prods at my hole. He reaches toward my nightstand, pulling something out. He comes back and presses his fingers inside me, massaging my hole. The initial burn turns into a cooling sensation, and the raw feeling fades.

"Ow!" I shout as one pain in my ass is replaced by another. His big ass hand landed on my butt cheek.

I twist to glare at him, and he shoves my face back into the pillow. He tucks it under my cheek, exposing half my face. His big hand, the same one that probably left a print on my ass cheek, lifts into the air and before I can even suck in a breath to brace myself, it drops.

The lift and fall is like watching one of those rides at an amusement park. The one where they tie you to bungee cord, raising you in the air slowly, leaving you there to contemplate your fate and, when you least expect it, they let you go.

Draven's hand makes the journey over and over. Raising and lowering again and again. All I can do is watch. And cry. My cock comes back to life, pulsing and throbbing as tears rain down my face.

I can hear my voice making sounds. The gasps and moans meld together into a litany of pain and pleasure, the likes of which I've only ever read about. This is what I've dreamed of. Now that I have it, though, I'm not sure I want it.

At least not until his hand crashes into my backside one last time, hitting some spot that lights up my world and my soul takes flight. My cock spurts untouched, and I feel Draven's hot breath in my ear as he grabs the abused cheek and squeezes it.

"Consider that yer punishment for not following my orders since that arse o' yers distracted me from giving ye what I'd planned."

Still gasping and crying, I roll over, rubbing my cheek and glaring at him. My bottom lip rolls out in a pout. He grabs my chin, pulling my face to his. Our noses brush against one another as he stares into my eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth, and he takes it in a punishing kiss.

When he releases me, he growls, "Ye are to eat—real food, Tavish. Regular meals, nae junk. Ye must fuel yer body, or ye will work yerself into the ground."

I frown at him. My ass still smarts.

"Do ye understand me, mo ghille?"

"You still haven't told me what that means."

"My boy. And before you ask, lilla du means little one. Now, answer the question. Do ye understand me, Tavish?"

Lips purse further into a pout as I nod at him.

"Words, lad."

"Yes. I understand."

"Yes, what?"

I sigh as resignation and defeat roll over me. "Yes, Daddy."

"That's a good boy, lilla du. Go shower. Then ye can check on yer tech toys."

"They're not toys," I grumble as I stand up from the bed. I step toward the bathroom and then stop to glance at him over my shoulder. I smirk when I catch him staring at my ass.

Probably at his handprints. I can still feel burning on my cheeks.

I shake my ass at him as I continue toward the shower.

"Ye might as well save that for another day. There'll be nae more poking done tonight."

I know he's right. I'm not sure I can take another pounding like the one he just gave me.

After a shower, I dress in the softest pants I can find, pulling them up over the manties I considered foregoing for a split second. Planting myself in front of my computers, my breath rushes out audibly as my ass makes contact with the chair.

Fuck me, that hurts.

I sneak a glance over my shoulder at the man behind the pain in my ass. Draven is standing behind me in the shadows. I don't know why he doesn't sit on the couch. The only time he sits on the couch is when I sit there. If he is eating with me, we eat at my desk.

When he first started hovering behind me, it weirded me out, but I've gotten used to it. Somewhat. Sometimes, it still rattles me, but unlike before when I was being watched, I know he is there to protect me, not hurt me.

Sighing, I bring the computer to life and check the searches I have running. Seeing the notification that pinged earlier, I click it, and dread races through me. The screen in front of me terrifies me like I've not been terrified since Damon and I crept through the Order's headquarters the night he rescued me.

My fingers fly over the keyboard as everything fades into the background. I lose myself in the code. I have to pull out all the information I can to keep myself and the others safe. I haven't come this far to be pulled back into the mess I escaped from.

Looking back at the screen, the name in front of me isn't quite my worst nightmare, but it's close.

Elijah Monroe

A plate lands in front of me. I ignore it for the data I'm compiling, but a hand grasps the back of my neck. I sigh and tilt my head back to look up at the big bastard I'm falling for. Stupidly so.

"Eat."

Turning to the screens, I chew my lip and pick up the fork. I shove bite after bite into my mouth as my brain spins. I need to figure out what to do about this info. If Elijah Monroe is making himself known, he has help. Help that is my worst nightmare.

He and Samuel are thick as thieves, always have been. If Elijah is making a play, then Samuel is right there with him.

I swallow. The food I'm chewing refuses to go down, getting stuck as my throat closes. All the memories of the living nightmare my life was for the past twenty years flood through me, drowning me in misery. The fork drops from my hand as all the fear and abuse I've endured washes over me.

"Tavish? What's wrong?"

I shake my head

"Tell me, mo ghille donn. What's the matter?"

Shaking my head again, I reach for the comms device. "I…ummm…I gotta…I need to talk with Zayn."

"What about? What's wrong?" he asks once more.

The emotion in his voice sparks hope within me. Hope I can't afford to allow myself, so I wave him off, ignoring the look on his face as I pull up Zayn's contact.

Glancing up at the screen, I type out the message to Zayn.

SECURE: T

We've gotta talk. NOW!