Chapter 6

Ariana

6

Ithink it's Wednesday.

I may have lost track of time, and it's weird living without my phone. For the first couple of days, I suffered from anxiety without my screen to fiddle with. But there's plenty of stuff to watch on Spike's movie stick, and Raylan even brought me a few books to read. He's the charmer of the three.

They're all different. I think I've got them figured out, more or less, despite their consistent effort to keep a certain distance from me. My guess is they're trying not to get too close to me. I'm their pawn, their leverage, not their friend.

Sky is the leader, the club president, and the man calling the shots. But he keeps it sort of humble, often relying on Raylan and Kendric for counsel. Spike confirmed that as well. Spike is a lot chattier these days, likely because I'm a lot chattier, too. I figured I might try to make some friends while I'm here and hopefully secure my survival for whatever comes next.

Sky fascinates me with his restraint and his remarkable self-control. I've pushed his buttons plenty of times to warrant at least a verbal ass-kicking, yet he has been nothing but patient and calm. The fact that he's gorgeous only adds to his appeal.

Raylan is dangerously charming, playful, and always carrying himself with a hint of self-assuredness and wearing a kid-like smile; he won't show you how deadly he can be unless he has to. He also doesn't seem to take himself too seriously. However, the way he looks at me often sends shivers down my spine. Many things are left unspoken between us, but his lingering gazes tell me there's a fire burning just beneath the surface, and if he's not careful, it'll burn everything in his path.

Kendric, on the other hand, is absolutely and unabashedly deadly. He will not hesitate to crush you with just his presence, his gaze, let alone his massive frame or iron fist. That man is strong and built for war, a grunt through and through. He inspires dread with such ease that sometimes I think he enjoys scaring the crap out of people. But despite all that, something happens when we get close, albeit without intention. His steel gaze softens. It drops. And I can almost feel the air changing between us, dissolving my fear and turning it into desire.

That's the hard truth. They're hot, and they're getting me bothered. They absolutely shouldn't have that effect on me, not under these circumstances.

I'm restless again.

I haven't made much progress with my screw on the iron frame, but maybe today's the day.

After twenty hours of sleep the other day, I'm feeling refreshed and up to no good, like I could wreak some havoc. I've been too nice despite my snappy tone. And maybe I haven't exhausted all of my options yet.

I stare at the locked door for the better part of a minute until a thought occurs like a tendril reaching out to me from the darkest depths of my mind.

"I could try it," I mutter to myself as I take the screw out. It's worth a shot.

I've seen enough movie scenes where the protagonist jimmies the lock with a screw or a paperclip, or even a butter knife. How hard can it be? It could be impossible, but I still need to try.

"All right, here we go," I whisper and stick the screw into the lock.

I listen to the faint metallic sounds inside, the scraping of every movement as I try to wiggle the mechanism in any possible direction. From what I recall, it only takes a few wrist movements to push the right piece into the right rift, and the tip of the screw is sharp enough to—CLICK.

"Holy shit," I gasp.

No way.

My eyes almost pop out of their sockets. No way it worked. With a trembling hand, I turn the knob, and it opens.

"Holy shit …" I silence myself, trying not to draw any attention.

I just need to get out of here.

Where should I go, though? How do I leave the clubhouse? The parking lot is filled with motorcycles and pickup trucks. Not to mention there are always customers milling about, standing around outside. They've got a full house tonight, too.

The music blares from downstairs, and there's a persistent waft of oil frying in the hall. My stomach growls in protest, but I console myself with the thought that I will soon be a free woman.

When that happens, I will shamelessly massacre an entire bucket of spicy nuggets and call it a day. But I have to get out of here first.

Okay, step one, just across the threshold. Come on, Ariana, you can do it.

As soon as I'm standing in the middle of the hallway, I exhale sharply. I even smile because I've made it this far.

Okay, one more step. And another. And another.

I don't know the layout of this place so I'm looking around for an emergency exit. There seems to be only one set of stairs, and it leads directly into the vipers' nest. My throat starts closing. The walls start closing in. I thought I had a handle on my anxiety, but clearly, I do not; definitively not, but I can't turn around either.

What the hell am I going to do? Go back to my room like a good girl, as Kendric said.

A good girl. I need to be a good girl.

"Screw that; I need to be a free girl," I mutter and decide to try my luck with every room on this level in the hopes that they don't all have bars on the windows.

I don't even make it to the first door when Sky's voice booms across the narrow and semi-dark hallway. "Ariana."

Shit.

I'm frozen, both hands on the doorknob as I turn my head ever so slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I register movement.

He moves like a shadow, this mountain of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, smelling of leather and notes of tobacco, as he hooks his arm around my waist and effortlessly picks me up off the ground. I'm not sure if I'm actually screaming or if it's just in my head, but he takes me back to my room and throws me on the bed.

I roll over and land on the floor like an electrocuted cat while he locks the door and turns to look at me, rage simmering in his gaze. "We had one rule," Sky says, his voice low and cold.

"I had to try," I mumble, but I am shaking like a leaf and rattled to the core while his scent still lingers in my nose, filling my lungs and frying my circuits. "I'm sorry."

I'm actually apologizing. What the hell is wrong with me?

I'm trying to survive. There's nothing wrong with me. If you piss off your kidnapper, you try to appease them because you can't afford to lose a finger—or worse.

"The rule is in place for a reason, Ariana. It's for your sake, not ours," Sky replies, taking careful but decisive steps toward me. "I could just keep you in the basement, hogtied, day and night. Would you prefer that?"

"No."

"I could just feed you scraps of bread and tap water," he says, getting closer and closer.

Why the hell is my breathing so ragged? Why is my blood boiling in all the wrong ways? Why is anticipation building up in my chest, as if a volcano is about to explode in my core?

"Let you wear the same sweatpants and shirt for days on end. Let you scratch at the walls and start talking to yourself until you go mad," he adds.

I shudder. "Can we just go back to how it was?"

"It's a little late for that. I can't let you walk out of here, Ariana."

"I know who you are. I know where I am. I'm not stupid. You're not going to let me live." I scoff, trying so hard not to cry as he approaches. There are so many emotions swirling inside me, many of them dangerously intense and surprising, unaccounted for and unexpected. It's hard for me to focus, my gaze constantly dropping to his slightly parted lips.

"You think the worst of us, don't you?" he asks, but I don't sense anger in his voice. Not anymore. It has turned into something else. Something darker and far more intense. Something that might swallow me whole if I'm not careful.

"You haven't exactly given me a reason to think better of you," I say, feeling bold for someone whose life is literally in this man's hands.

"You've got quite the mouth on you, and I'm starting to get tired of it," Sky replies harshly and takes another step.

I want to tell him to stay back, but the words get stuck in the back of my throat.

I want to hit him. Yes, I can try that. Wait, no—probably not the best idea—but my hand shoots out anyway. He catches it in midair, and his grip tightens on my wrist. A smile dances across his lips. Time stands still while my heart picks up at an alarming speed, close to beating out of my chest.

It only takes a split-second, and it could be over.

He could snap my neck. He could slit my throat. He could shove me so hard that I might fall and hit my head. Either way, I would die. I am powerless before him.

But his eyes keep searching my face, and I don't know why I'm wavering, why my resolve is dwindling. He closes the distance between us. I expect the worst. It's coming.

Then, his mouth crashes into mine.

My heart explodes, and a catastrophic wildfire burns up inside of me. The flames spread through my veins and I lose my breath, my senses altogether, as I let him in. I moan against his lips. His taste has me high on his essence, his tongue breaching and getting tangled with mine.

Everything happens so fast, too fast. The world disappears: the iron bars on my window, the clubhouse, the parking lot, the darkness of the night unraveling outside. It all dissolves into the sweetest nothingness as I surrender to this dangerous man who snatched me and has all the power over me.

And I welcome it.

I should fight it.

I should push him away.

But I can't. I want it. Oh, God, I want it all.

The kiss dissolves into a smoldering passion. Unspoken and hidden thoughts come to the surface, desires left on the backburner from the moment our eyes first met in my bathroom. I was so wet then, and I am so wet now. Good grief, I can't stop myself.

He's got both my hands behind my back as he deepens the kiss. Liquid heat pools between my legs as I breathe him in, as he feverishly inhales me. I don't register the moment when he lets go, but my arms whip out and lock around his neck while his begin to wander, to probe, to test my curves and apply pressure with his fingers in all the right places.

We're out of control.

"Dammit, Ariana," Sky growls and pulls back.

I look up at him, unable to think clearly. Screw everything, I want him. Now. All of him. I step up on my tiptoes and catch his lower lip, suckling it until he caves in. He kisses me again. Harder. Hungrier.

Our clothes start flying across the room.

First his jacket, then my tee.

His boots.

My sweatpants.

I'm left buck naked and horny as hell as he takes a second to just look at me.

I do the same, watching every inch of his body as he peels his jeans off and his magnificent cock springs free. He's huge. A long and thick shaft, veins throbbing along its length, and a swollen tip that has me licking my lips.

I've never had this feeling before about anyone. I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want him. I've never been so stirred before in my life, and I cannot control this deluge. I cannot, nor do I wish to, stop myself.

"You are fucking trouble," Sky says, his rippling pecks twitching with frustration.

I reach out and take his cock in my hand, squeezing gently, getting a feel for it, trying to imagine it buried deep inside of me. I admire the tattoos covering his chest and shoulders, the imagery fading toward his wrists. The nipple piercings cause my core to tighten as I bite the tip of my tongue. I want to resist the urge, but all bets are off now.

This is happening.

"I'm fucking trouble. What about you?" I reply, looking deep into his eyes.

He exhales sharply and pulls me in for another kiss. This one is devastating. It has intention and precision. It is designed to conquer and destroy me while his hands move down and cup my full breasts. He kneads my flesh, trying so hard not to rush yet eager to consume my body until I'm nothing but embers. I touch him. His skin feels soft, like silk against my fingertips.

Shivers dance down my spine as he trails wet kisses down the side of my neck.

His mouth reaches my breast, closing around one nipple as his grip tightens. I love the sensation—a flurry of electric butterflies buzzing through my torso as I gasp and tilt my head back.

"This is wrong," Sky murmurs, but I can't respond.

I'm too busy melting as he shifts his attention to my left nipple, suckling and biting until whimpers escape from my throat. I hold on to this man for dear life as his hand travels downward and finds the hot spot between my legs.

His deft fingers slide between my wet folds, parting and exploring them until they come upon a swollen, aching clit. With circular motions, he works me into a sizzling frenzy. "This is what you like, isn't it?" he asks, raising his head so he can look at me. "It's what you were doing in the tub when I came to steal you away."

"Oh, yes," I whisper, my knees turned to pudding as he rubs my clit, applying more and more pressure until my core tightens, until I'm close to exploding.

"I had a mind to fuck your lights out right then and there," he says.

"It's what I was thinking about," I reply.

Sky hisses, a grin splitting his face as he touches me, as his fingers slip inside me while the palm of his hand teases my clit. I'm about to fall off the edge, a white haze spreading before my eyes as I lose myself in his fiery gaze. "Ariana, you naughty little thing."

"Oh!" I cry out as he finger-fucks me, his digits savagely thrusting as I come hard.

I'm shaking uncontrollably as his arm snakes around my waist, and he squeezes out every drop of my mind-numbing orgasm. I moan against his lips, my hips swaying at the moment, but then he lays me on the bed, and a subtle panic comes crawling up my spine.

"I'm a virgin." The words come out before I can stop them.

Sky stills before me, his cock so hard and swollen, I'd hate to see so much passion go to waste. But he had to know. He stares at me in shock and disbelief while I'm suddenly so self-conscious that I'm tempted to cover myself up.

"Do you want me to stop?"

The question catches me off guard but I don't hesitate as I give him a single, decisive shake of my head.

"Please," I mumble. "Don't stop."

My core ripples as he comes closer. My excitement returns with a vengeance, but something has changed in Sky's demeanor. His gaze is softer as he takes me in, wandering up and down my body for the longest minute, his eyes registering every curve, every detail while he strokes himself ever so slowly. Enjoying every second.

He licks his lips and gently pulls my knees apart, then dives right in and kisses my clit.

I pull in a deep breath, feeling his warm lips close around my tender nub. The sensation is incredible—it's more than I ever imagined. This is some next-level witchery, and I can't get enough of it. His tongue laps at my slick folds, teasing my clit while his fingers go in again.

"Oh, God," I moan.

His spare hand comes up to grab my breast, squeezing tightly while he probes me, stretches me, and tests me until he knows I'm primed and ready for him. He suckles my clit, and I listen to his uneven, rough breathing as he consumes me and raises me high above the clouds before coming up and positioning himself between my legs.

I look up at him, lost in the shadows of his mind.

He kisses me softly, and I feel his cock at my entrance.

Neither of us breathes as I tilt my hips up to beckon him. With slow, gentle pushes, he eventually slides in.

"Mmm …" I moan, marveling at what a perfect fit he is.

I was made for him. My pussy stretches and sheathes all of him, his gargantuan cock filling me to the brim. His gaze never leaves mine as he moves slowly and deliberately carefully while he runs his fingers through my hair. He is gentle, met with slight resistance as he goes deeper.

The pain is sharp, but it fades away quickly.

He holds me close and keeps my lips busy as he continues to push into me gently.

Before long, a rhythm develops.

The pain is all but gone, the discomfort fading as a perfect cadence ensues. My body instinctively knows what to do. My pussy welcomes every magnificent inch of this man, and I soon surrender myself to the hunger quick to build up inside of me.

His hand moves between us, fingers eager to work my clit into another climax.

I lock my legs around his waist, prompting his eyebrows to pop up in surprise.

He stops for a moment, and I clench myself around him. "Don't stop," I whisper. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"You're a bad girl through and through, aren't you?" Sky smiles, holding back a devious laugh.

"Maybe. But I'm your bad girl tonight."

It's all he needs to hear. He starts to move again, each thrust more intrusive, more deliberate. I take all of it in. I let my fingernails rake over his back. The harder he goes, the deeper I scratch. He snarls but doesn't tell me to stop, either. He likes it, and that just turns me on even more.

Before long, we've lost our minds altogether.

He rubs my clit, faster and faster. He fucks me deeper, harder. He's pounding into me like a beast, and I am crying out and coming, wet, hot, and desperate for more. Our bodies are intertwined as he devours me, kisses and bites me as he thrusts relentlessly.

I unravel in his arms, the sound of skin slapping skin driving me into the sweetest madness. I clench myself tightly and feel him explode inside me.

"Oh, Sky, yes!" I scream.

"Fuck!" Sky groans, every muscle in his body suddenly tight as he lets himself go.

"This is wrong," he had said.

It is wrong, but it feels so fucking right.

I want more.

Sleep catches up to both of us. I'm not sure when it happened, but we fade into dreamland, wrapped in each other's arms. Our bodies are covered in sweat as we simmer in the sparkling afterglow. All that lovemaking has taken the wind out of me, and I wake up feeling as though I've just finished running a marathon. My limbs are soft, like jelly. My heart flutters with delight. A smile stretches across my lips as I feel myself still enveloped in Sky's embrace.

I listen to his breath, slow and even.

I remember the look in his eyes, the depth of his very soul. He was completely disarmed last night. Unyielding and possessive. Wild and utterly shameless. And I loved every second of it. I couldn't get enough of it. I never imagined I'd feel this way, never believed that I would abandon myself with such recklessness, but there is something about Sky that beckoned me to do it. He took care of me. He was tender, so sweet and tender when he felt me wavering, yet so possessive and hot when I needed him to claim me, to control me, to take me, all of me.

Good grief, I'm getting wet again.

My ass is perfectly nestled against his cock, and that morning wood is getting bigger as Sky slowly wakes up. But my inner self comes to, as well as my voice of reason.

I try to get out of bed, but Sky holds me tight. "It's too early," he grumbles in my ear.

"It's late enough," I snap and manage to pull myself away from him, anger working its way through my veins. By the time I'm standing naked by the bed, I'm fully pissed off, my chest furiously rising with each deep breath as I scowl at him.

Sky opens his eyes and gives me an understandably confused look while I'm growing angrier and angrier with how fucking hot he is, his hair messy and his eyelids still heavy with sleep. "What is it?" he asks.

"Is this what you were after the whole time?" I am on a roll at this point, my mouth practically functioning without me as I scramble to get my sweatpants and shirt back on. Spike promised me fresh clothes and underwear today. "To get in my pants? To fuck the mayor's daughter?"

Sky sits up, his demeanor instantly changing. Caution defines his finely sculpted features as he carefully gets out of bed. "Where is this coming from, Ariana? I thought last night was mutual."

"That doesn't make it right."

"I told you that," he shrugs, and all that does is transfer the responsibility back to me. Entirely back to me, and my pride can't accept that. There were two of us involved, and Sky needs to suffer, too. If I burn in hell over this, he needs to burn with me, dammit. "You wanted it. You told me you did."

"Screw you, Sky! I'm your prisoner, it's not like I have that many choices," I retort and instantly regret it. We both know it wasn't about that.

The look he gives me makes me feel awful, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he just nods slowly and starts dressing while I watch, and I swallow my raw nerves, trying to find the right thing to say. "If that's the story you're telling yourself, Ariana, who am I to stop you?" He sighs deeply once his boots are back on. "I'll send you breakfast in a bit."

Now, I'm the one who feels awful.

I overreacted. I'm scared. Hell, I don't know where this is going, where it's going to end. Sky, Raylan, and Kendric kidnapped me from my own home, and now they're holding me hostage so they can get my father to do something he would not do otherwise. These are hardened criminals. What was I thinking?

That's the thing: I wasn't really thinking, not with my brain, anyway.

Last night, I was a twenty-three-year-old virgin, bringing some of my wildest fantasies to life because the alternative was downright terrifying. But I wanted it. I consented to it. And the worst part is that I want more of it, so much more. My face burns as I turn away from Sky and face the window instead.

He leaves, locking the door behind him.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I cross my arms and stare at the empty parking lot. It was wrong, yet I loved every second of it.

How in the world did this happen?