Chapter Fourteen

Outrage

Ella

Pulsing anger reverberated in Ella's head, making it difficult to think.

How?The question rose, temporarily blasting through her fury. How have I let this happen?

Logically, she knew what had transpired. She understood how she'd ended up bound there in probably the least comfortable position she could think of, but at the same time, she couldn't explain her predicament.

How had they gone from playful banter and an exchange of intimacies to this crass savagery? Her shoulders screamed with the burden of her new position, and she couldn't even move her head properly to help ease their agony.

Fucker.

Her focus flew to his face, her toes curling at his look of exultation. Tucker had emptied his balls all over her, and she hadn't been in a position to help him, let alone stop him.

Somewhere deep inside, that reality riled her the most. The fact she'd actually been keen to pleasure him, that she'd wanted to give him the blow job, sliced at her core. All he had to do was allow a quick clean-up, and she'd have happily delivered the orgasm to him on a plate, but no… he wouldn't hear about it.

When push had come to shove, Tucker hadn't been prepared to compromise.

"That is better." Grinning, his hand moved to her hair, but she recoiled back to the bed, determined to avoid his touch.

"Go and fuck yourself." Her heart raced at his dark chuckle, her breaths racing at his sneer.

"No need, darling." He leered as he zipped up his fly. "I'll never need to do that again now that I have you here."

"You don't have me," she countered through gritted teeth. "You've taken me without my consent, and you're keeping me here like this!"

Her jaw tightened at his sheer audacity. How could he think it was okay to treat her this way? The spankings and the ropes had been one thing—unacceptable and unwarranted, but she'd never felt she was in genuine danger—but this? She pulled in a shaky breath, inadvertently breathing in the masculine scent of his orgasm that was drying on her skin.

Oh God.Wordless dread snaked inside her, ballooning until she struggled to take in more air. He's done this to me, and he doesn't care.

What did that say about him? What kind of man was she stuck in this shithole with? Tucker had revealed a little about himself when they'd cuddled, but she still didn't know who he was. Hell, she didn't even know how he'd earned so much money. The guy could be capable of anything…

"You're wrong, little girl." His laughter echoed around her as he walked toward the fire. "I do have you, and I'm going to enjoy you."

"Fucker."

She muttered the word, her rising trepidation preventing her from yelling it to his face the way she'd done in her head. Yet again, Tucker had the upper hand, and though she didn't like it, she had no choice but to accept it. She'd be wise to keep her lips sealed and not make the situation even worse, but Christ, that was more difficult than it sounded.

How dare you!Her glare drilled into his back. How fucking dare you!

It was difficult to focus on anything save her resentment as he busied himself by the hearth. Rage flared in what seemed like every cell of her body, preparing her to collide with her captor just as soon as she was free. She barely noticed it when he grabbed a box from beside the fire or how his blade sliced through the vegetables he found in there.

Ella had no idea how long she remained there while he worked. Grappling with the discomfort at her knees and shoulders, time had become a meaningless facet.

She tried not to think about her home or the torment her mum must be going through. To have any chance of getting through this ordeal, she had to stay strong, and dwelling in her pit of self-pity most certainly wouldn't aid her.

"Are you hungry?" He peered over his shoulder, the intensity of his stare interrupting her bleak thoughts.

Am I hungry?She tensed at the preposterous query, wishing she could free her arms and stretch out her weary muscles. Ella had only been able to grab a few hours of sleep since she'd woken up in this nightmare. That, combined with the lack of sustenance, meant she was exhausted. Of course, I'm hungry!

"I'm making soup." Apparently unconcerned by her lack of response, Tucker hummed to himself as he set the pot over the fire. "It's basic but hearty. My own recipe."

"Not rabbit, I hope." Her stomach twisted as though it echoed her sentiments.

"Not rabbit," he agreed, although still, he didn't turn around. "And remember how to refer to me, little girl."

"Sure." She glanced at the bed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes in case he caught sight of the gesture and invented yet another awful way to punish her for the alleged offense. "Whatever you say, sir."

"That's more like it." He snorted as he stirred the pot with an unseen implement.

"How long are you going to keep me like this?" Her gaze fell to the floor as far as the damned binds in her hair allowed. A part of the woman she'd once been couldn't believe she even had to ask. "My arms are killing me, sir."

"I guess you should have thought about that before you disobeyed me." His concentration remained rooted to the pot, his hand stirring its contents over and over as though he was hypnotized by the act.

Disobeyed him?

Was he joking? All she'd done was request basic cleanliness. Her lips curled into a grimace as she recalled what he'd forced her to do. If she ever got out of there, she'd have to sanitize her entire mouth.

When… she corrected herself. Not if, but when. I can't stay here and give in to his bullshit.

"I just asked for you to be clean." She swallowed, trying not to think about what she might be tasting. Turning her head toward him, she hoped whatever he was cooking would wash the grim thought away.

"You don't get to make demands." His stirring hand paused, the sudden stillness elevating her heart rate.

"I wasn't demanding." She sensed the shift in the atmosphere, although even if her hands had been free, she couldn't have put her finger on it. Her fury simmered on, but it was being replaced by that gnawing terror that Tucker seemed able to inspire. "Only asking, sir."

"Hmmm." He spun slowly to face her. "I don't think so, little girl. You don't even get to ask."

"Why are you being so mean?" Her fingers balled into her palms at her desperate plea. Had that pathetic question really just come from her?

"Because it's what you need to learn." His tone was even as he watched her. "And that's what's going to happen."

Learn?She bristled, her breaths coming faster as she once more shifted on her sore knees.

"I thought we were having a good time, sir." Her brow furrowed, but she refused to acknowledge the emotions lurking not far from the surface. "You said you wanted to cuddle me, and…" Her voice trailed into silence as she glanced away.

"I did." He took a step toward her, his lips rising into a smile. "And I'm glad I did. You're lovely."

"So lovely that you treat me this way?" Her voice almost broke that time, forcing her to gulp down her rising feelings, whatever the bad taste in her mouth.

"You clearly have no idea how good you look."

Her chin rose at his wry tone. "You like me like this?"

He was even closer now. "You know I do. I told you that much, and I haven't exactly been hiding my feelings, Ella." He gestured to his zipper as he inched toward her. "All you need to do is what I tell you." His voice was softer as he closed the space between them. "This experience will be a lot easier for you that way."

"My mum always said I don't usually take the easy route." She peered out of the window, thinking of Susie. Ella hoped she was keeping it together. She still lived at home, and they ate together most days. She knew her mum would be worried sick about her.

"Well, she's right." He smiled in her peripheral vision. "You certainly don't. What's your mother like? I don't think I ever had the pleasure of meeting her."

"She's kinda crazy." Ella couldn't resist the way her lips curled. "But she's sweet and generous. She deserved better than Alexander."

"Now that I can believe." Tucker loomed over her again, his thigh blocking the limited light permitted by the cabin's one window. "Your father is a grade-A asshole."

That's rich coming from you.

She suppressed the smirk that wanted to form at her thought. "You'll get no objections from me on that one."

"Well, that makes a pleasant change." His hand brushed over her aching shoulder as he came to stand in front of her. "Look at me."

Knowing she ultimately had little choice, she complied, allowing her gaze to fall over his torso. She'd seen him half naked earlier when he'd fucked her and had enjoyed his broad strapping chest and stacked abdominals, but as her attention scanned over his skin, she noticed scarring on his arm and shoulders she hadn't seen before.

"What are those, sir?" She eyed the scars before her eyes traveled back to his face. He really was an attractive man for his age. If he wasn't such a controlling psycho, she might have been able to appreciate him even more.

"What?" His terse tone told her that he already knew to what she referred.

"The scars." Sensing she was on her risky ground and already bound and in pain, her voice was small. "The one on your shoulder looks like…" Staring more closely, her heart thundered.

Shit!Her throat dried as she realized precisely what it looked like. She'd seen enough similar wounds in those gross movies one of her exes had made her endure.

"Looks like what?" His finger tipped her chin, drawing her attention back in the direction of his face.

"Nothing, sir." She flustered, not wanting to vocalize what she suspected—that the man who'd taken, tied, and fucked her had gunshot scarring on his otherwise flawless body. "It doesn't matter."

"On the contrary, it does." His blue eyes pierced her. "I want to know what you're thinking, and I do not want you lying to me."

"Okay, fine." She sighed. "It looks like you were shot." Tension gripped her tummy as she relented, her face heating as time lengthened without a reply.

"I was shot more than once." In the end, his expression softened as though he was recalling something he'd rather forget. "I'm lucky to be alive."