Chapter 12

Styx

Women were like fine wine, meant to be savored, the rich taste explored and paid attention to. However, I wasn't a patient man under any circumstances. When I wanted something, I never waited. I hadn't needed to since taking my life back from my father. I was rich, powerful, and had more than three dozen employees at my beck and call if needed. The sky was the limit.

If those not under my employ didn't comply without hesitation, I simply took something precious from them until they realized thwarting my needs wasn't in their best interest.

That meant I was a merciless, cruel, and always dangerous man.

But with my sweet virtuoso, I wanted to take my time. She was beautiful, her skin flawless, her eyes constantly piercing mine as if searching for a soul that didn't exist. That had been stripped from me as a child. I could remember a few of the wondrous moments when I thought life was amazing, every act of nature and every animal something I wanted to explore. Then I was forced to realize that almost all pretty things left or hurt, including Mother Nature.

That's why keeping my sweet little sparrow in a gilded cage was important. If she flew away, I would be devastated. She had no understanding of the dangers of our world. I'd hunt her down no matter who came to her assistance or how far she ran.

Then things would get ugly. Savagery. I didn't want that for her. For us. She was far too special, too innocent and fragile. I was determined to take care of her in every way.

That started tonight.

Fucking her wasn't an option. She needed to learn that it was useless to fight. I owned her, my most dazzling possession, the finest work of art in my collection. I allowed myself a full two minutes of continued exploration, tracing the voluptuous curves of her body, allowing the tip of my index finger to slide down her knotted spine. Everything about her was perfection from her scrumptious mouth perfect for fucking and her rounded hips and full buttocks, to her breasts that fit in my hands as if made for me alone.

Her nipples were a deep shade of rose, elongated by a desire she hated herself for experiencing. The fact she'd shaved for me, for her master wasn't lost on me. Her shorn pussy allowed her nether lips to glisten in the moonlight. Yes, God had created the alluring Eve, only centuries later than told in various stories.

A smirk crossed my face as I brushed two fingers down the crack of her ass. Taking her tight asshole would be an utter gift from the beautiful woman. But I would wait until the end, until after I'd tasted every inch of her. I squeezed her welted and heated bottom with one hand until she moaned, undulating on my desk.

With my other hand, I thrust four fingers into her tight channel, instantly closing my eyes as a rush of adrenaline and raging desire coursed through me like rocket fuel. I couldn't remember a single woman in my life that I'd had this kind of powerful reaction to. There was no doubt Emily had been created for me, waiting for me. And I would show her how good my filthy acts could make her feel.

Now that she belonged to a brutal man, she'd surrender in every way. Time and time again. The thought brought a series of vivid and filthy images into my mind. Shackling her, fucking her outside, watching as she writhed in the mud, crawling toward me, her breasts bouncing as she did. Studying her sweet face as she opened her mouth wide to suck on my cock and balls until I spewed cum down the back of her throat.

Or all over her luscious body.

Dear God, my balls were rock hard, my shaft throbbing from the kind of need that couldn't be denied but for so long. Yet, I had to admit that I was enjoying my kind of foreplay, plunging my fingers deep inside. She was so wet and hot, her juice likely staining my desk. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Every sound she made, strangled or otherwise electrified the moment, awakening the sleeping beast. Usually that wasn't a good thing for anyone, the heinous thing living inside of me needing blood to survive, but this was entirely different. Perhaps she was the single entity that had the capability of soothing the savage.

We would see.

I pumped hard and fast as she writhed, digging her perfectly manicured nails into the exotic wood of my desk. I wanted those same fingernails to create divots in my back, adding to the number of scars on my body. I needed her to cry out my name in the throes of passion while I fucked her like a wild animal.

Dear God, I wanted to breed her, creating a dozen amazing, virtuoso children that would eventually take over the world. That's exactly what I would do. And they'd all answer to me.

I was a sick man, but that no longer mattered. I was intoxicated not only by the scent of her desire and lingering perfume, but also the hint of sex we'd already engaged in and the raging fragrance of my own testosterone. And it was an incredible feeling, as if I was the exalted one, the most powerful being on earth.

With every thrust of my fingers, her moans became louder, her body shifting back and forth. Her skin glistened in the dim lighting, her heart beating as rapidly as mine. She even tossed her head back and forth for me, maybe doing nothing more than teasing me.

Chuckling darkly, I planted my other hand on the side of her, leaning over until I was able to nip her earlobe, whispering in my harsh voice promises of things to come. "I can't wait to be inside of you all over again, filling you. Fucking you. Using every inch of you. But you will never taunt me. You belong to me." With that, I jammed my thumb into her tight asshole, plunging with enough force she cried out.

But her body accepted the invasion, her breath skipping as she purred, her body twisting.

"Good girl. Come for me. Come on my fingers." My command was not to be denied and I was certain she knew that.

Without seconds, the sweet reward of her release was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I was the one throwing back my head, roaring to the heavens above. I'd found my perfect woman, the woman who would keep me sane.

And I would enjoy feasting on her for hours.

I continued pumping deep inside her, curling the tips of my flexed fingers until one climax slammed into another and my sweet Emily pushed up from the desk, panting like the animal I was turning her into. I so adored the way her long eyelashes skimmed across her shimmering cheeks, the way her mouth pursed as ecstasy rolled through her.

And I loved that she was accepting the moment while still clinging to the girl she'd once been. I'd yet to break her. That would take time, something that I would enjoy immensely.

Only when the moment of sheer rapture began to fade did I remove my fingers, wrapping one hand around her hair and lifting her head. "Open your tight little mouth, my sweet Emily."

She kept her lips pursed and I twisted my hand until she cried out in slight pain. "No. Stop."

"Then do as I tell you."

Her lips were quivering but she finally obeyed, allowing me to slip my fingers into her mouth while I rubbed her.

"Good girl. See? Isn't that better? I will give you all the pleasure you hunger for but only if you're a very good angel. Just like I know you can be. Now, suck on my fingers. See how sweet you taste? See how your body reacts to the only man who will ever touch you again?"

I wasn't surprised to see a single tear slipping from the eye I could see, falling ever so slowly toward the wooden surface of my desk. But not before sliding precariously across her chiseled nose. I salivated even more, longing to lick away her tears.

There would be plenty of time for that, the agony she'd likely endure given her rebellious nature something I would also take pleasure in.

I was such a beast.

A smile crossed my face all over again as she used her strong jaw muscles to suck, her delicate tongue swirling back and forth.

"Perfect. Very nice." Even tangling my fingers in her silky strands was something I hadn't enjoyed before. She was without a doubt meant for me and me alone, and I would protect her with my life.

When I was satisfied she'd licked my fingers clean, I raked them down her spine once again.

Now I would take her like a normal man.

As if that was possible.

I eased her from the desk, holding her tightly against my chest, nuzzling my face into the nape of her neck. I was painted with her scent. Soon she would be painted with mine.

When I gathered her into my arms, she didn't fight me but the venom in her eyes was incredible, so much so I could read her thoughts.

Perhaps we'd go on a hunt at some point, adding elements of primal play to our repertoire.

But not tonight.

I had too many other needs that required being fulfilled.

Emily

The monster was completely insane.

There was no other answer for the possessiveness he'd shown, or the way he acted as if it was his God-given right to abduct me from my family and my friends, keeping me locked away on some fucking private island. Where the hell were we?

I was horrified from being in his arms, the crazed look in his eyes. But even worse was the fact my body had responded to the pleasure he'd forced on me.

Just like it had the night he'd stolen into my room, taking what had been left of my virtue. The only saving grace, if there was one, was that I hadn't been a virgin. I'd kept that for myself. Jesus. My thoughts were as crazy as my body seemed uncontrollable around him. The bastard had just given me a harsh spanking followed by the most exciting and powerful orgasm of my life and I couldn't demand that my own mind and every cell in my body shut down, not giving this bastard a moment of satisfaction.

Talon stared down at me lovingly and I had to admit, even with the scar blemishing his face, he was without a doubt the most handsome man I'd ever met. Met. What was I talking about? I hadn't met him. His assassin's name was Talon, not his real name. I had no clue who he was except that he was rich and powerful.

And very dangerous.

He carried me up the stairs as if this was our wedding night and we were two lovers excited to be together. I sensed he wanted my full compliance and God help me, I would try to give it to him. Only then could I gain his trust enough to find a way off this fucking island.

And I would find a way no matter what it took me or what I needed to do.

Every step he took was methodical, as if he was counting them off. I almost gathered a sense he was truly damaged inside.

I had a horrible feeling it was a brutality in his past that had made him this way. I did what I could to keep tears from falling but it was impossible. I was sick inside, so terrified that I couldn't breathe. And the bastard continued smiling down at me as if he'd won a fabulous prize and nothing more.

Who was this fucking man? Why had he taken me? Why had he developed such an intense fixation on a girl who he'd never met? Could I dare believe him that someone had hired him to kill me? Nothing made any sense. I was flustered and couldn't stop shaking, still tingling from the sweep of white-hot heat. Still sick inside from fear about what he had planned.

He kicked open the partially closed bedroom door, taking a few seconds to turn on a single very dull light. But at least that allowed me to gather a clearer look at my surroundings. I didn't see bars on the windows but that didn't mean there wasn't some razor wire located on the ledges. I almost laughed at the thought. No one could get on or off this island without his knowledge.

God help me.

Those words weren't enough. For wanting anything to do with this man, I was certain to be forsaken.

Talon tossed me in the middle of the bed as if I weighed nothing, taking a full five seconds to stare down at me, possibly daring me to defy him. Of course I wanted to. I wanted to find a sharp knife and drive it into his repulsive brain, but I wasn't stupid. I had to bide my time, to learn the lay of the land, as my horrible, dominating father would say.

I wondered if he'd returned from his trip, finding a bloodbath in his backyard, a missing daughter. Would he care? That was the question that would haunt me for however long I was kept as a prisoner.

He backed away into the shadows, slowly and provocatively removing his clothes. He was far enough away from the bedroom door that I knew I could make a run for it. But what was the point? He'd simply hunt me like he'd done before, laughing at me for making the attempt. I glanced around the room, noticing almost immediately the frustrating smirk crossing his handsome face.

I could swear the man was able to read my mind.

There was no rhyme or reason to the way he managed to capture my attention, drawing my gaze toward him as he removed his clothing. As with everything else I'd witnessed with the brutal savage, he was deliberate in his actions, folding his trousers and shirt, placing them just so on the dresser.

When he was finished, he took a deep breath, holding it in his carved chest before rolling his palms down his abdomen to his thighs, his nostrils flaring. There was a significant difference between this man and the couple of boys I'd been with, a confidence level that was far too attractive. I was lost for at least a few seconds in his sculpted beauty, some crazed God providing him with a body built for sin.

What in the hell was I thinking? It was crazy, my mind obviously fucked up from the drug. Yet the ache, the deep throbbing shifting from my pussy to my already heated core was incredible. I was tingling to the point I was fearful of combusting. I wanted to laugh and scream, to cry and beg, but I had a feeling that would only fuel the powerful bastard even more.

My eyes trailed his actions as he slipped his hand between his legs, wrapping his long and rough fingers around the thickness of his cock. There were far too many things about the brute that mesmerized me, my breath skipping as I watched the rough way he handled his shaft. Why did I have the feeling he couldn't get off without experiencing pain?

And why did I know as if by instinct that he'd enjoy inflicting the same kind of anguish on my body? My mouth was dry, my throat tight but I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was enigmatic, as if nothing more than a dream.

Or a nightmare.

He stroked and pumped, his chest heaving and not once did he blink. I had no idea how long his version of a dance of seduction lasted but when he advanced, another trickle of fear coursed through me.

The not-so-subtle look that remained on his face was as terrifying as the man, yet I was enthralled by the dangerous smirk. The brutal savage would no doubt devour me inch by inch, making good on his promises.

I backed away, crawling on my hands and knees until my butt hit the headboard.

He merely grinned like a lunatic, acting as if I'd done nothing but amuse him.

"You already know there is nowhere to run, my little virtuoso."

His dark and gruff words kept the tingling sensations shifting from one muscle to another. The term disgusted me. I was only going to be allowed to play for him.

"Leave me alone," I whispered, no longer recognizing my voice.

He narrowed his eyes, half laughing as he'd done so many times at my expense. "You know I can't and won't do that. You're my drug, my fix. I need your touch in order to survive." When his massive body was positioned on the end of the bed, I let off a terrified moan.

As if he would care.

He wrapped one hand around my ankle, yanking me all the way down the bed with ease. His muscles didn't even flex from the reprehensible action. There was also no surprise on his face when I kicked him in the chest with my other foot.

Instead, he grabbed it as he'd done the first time, only bringing my leg up to his mouth. I was crouched on my elbows, trying to think of any way to escape him and this… tragedy when he pressed his lips against my skin and instantly, every inch of me was on fire, lit up like a Christmas tree.

I found myself panting as he dragged his tongue up and down several inches, every sound he made a complete draw to his powerful moment of seduction. Why couldn't I seem to take my eyes off him and why did I crave his cock thrusting deep inside? It was crazy. It was completely irrational, as if I'd fallen into the mind-bending moment he was obviously in. Maybe the drug he'd given me had had more of a hypnotic effect than I'd realized, pulling me into a strange vacuum where I couldn't resist him.

While I struggled at first, the feel of his rough tongue on my skin lured me into his brand of darkness. He widened my legs, inch by inch crawling over me, brushing his lips up to my inner thigh then to my clit. When he pulled the tender bud between his lips, I threw back my head, staring up at the ceiling.

He had an incredible and very wet mouth, and expertly brought me close to another orgasm within seconds. I panted and writhed, trying to catch my breath but he made it impossible. I clasped my fingers around the sheet, pulling and tugging, trying to focus on anything.

I hated him. That was obvious. That was required, but why was it that I craved him after everything he'd done to me?

He sucked on my clit, biting down seconds later, growling as he'd done before except the tone was even darker, more villainous. I felt sick inside, mostly from the irrational arousal teeming through every muscle and overheated cell. I couldn't stand myself for hungering in a way I'd never done before, almost as if I could forgive this man for what he'd done to me.

What he would do.

Before I had a chance to plot my revenge, he managed to pull another orgasm from the depths of my being. And somehow, for some horrible reason I knew in my heart that I'd never be free of him.

Never.