Chapter Six

Fall Out

Ella

Ella slept like the dead. Or, at least, she rested the way she imagined death to be—deep and all-consuming. There were dreams. Nothing but warmth and black and, if she wasn't mistaken, a sense of contentment.

The reassuring solace lingered when her eyelids fluttered open, the wooden ceiling not immediately as disconcerting as it should have been. The first thing she was really aware of was how full her bladder was, and how, if she didn't make it to a bathroom soon, she'd be in trouble.

Rolling to one side, her brow furrowed. Something prevented her completion of the task, her left side hindered, although she couldn't decide why. Her arms were by her side and there was no obvious reason for the limb's delay. It took a moment of concentration for her to ascertain that there was something tied around not one but both wrists, and it was this bind that stopped her from moving freely.

"What the?" She tugged harder at her left wrist, frustrated at her predicament and conscious suddenly that wherever she was, she was naked.

In that instance, a thousand recollections of the last day fell into place, slicing into her consciousness like knives.

Tucker!

Her heart picked up its pace. The man had collected her from the forest. He was holding her captive, and no matter how hard she tried, he always seemed able to find her. Cold dread reverberated through her head, goosing her skin as she recalled their most recent interaction. An image of his face filled her mind's eye as he leaned over her, his fingers coaxing her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life.

Oh my God!

"There she is."

Her body tensed at his voice, and she didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling. The happiness was evident in his tone.

"Sleeping Beauty has woken up!" He appeared in her peripheral vision, grinning as he peered down at her. "How was your sleep?"

How was my sleep?

Was the man who'd taken her making small talk while she was still bound to his bed? What, she wondered, was the required etiquette for this bizarre situation?

"Erm, okay, thanks…" She hesitated, knowing what he wanted to hear next and yet reticent to deliver it. Still, she needed him to untie her and let her pee, so perhaps it was better that she placated him—for now, at least. "Sir."

"Thank you." His smile grew as he walked closer to the bed. "I appreciate your manners, little girl."

Little girl.

The peculiar pet name he'd invented for her resonated around the bed as though it meant to mock her. There was nothing especially little about Ella. She was young, fit, and healthy but had curves in all the right places. Even though she was clearly more diminutive than him, the label made no sense. Surely, it was designed only to belittle her further, as though her nudity and fetters hadn't already done the job.

"I need to pee."

A memory of the last time she'd made the same plea floated into her mind. On that occasion, Tucker had made her squat in the woods while he'd watched, her toes curling at the excruciating thought. At least the need had persuaded him to cut the binds at her feet. Maybe this time, it would help her get free from the bed.

Her pulse accelerated as she once again dwelled in the luxury of her climax at his hands. The pleasure had been fantastic, but it had likely sent all the wrong messages to her captor. He probably now thought that she wanted more. The muscles between her legs clenched at the idea.

Who am I kidding?

Tucker was magnetizing for all the wrong reasons, and despite her binds, she hadn't exactly fought off his advances. Her brows knitted briefly as she remembered how her back had arched as his fingers stroked at her clit and pussy. She'd been spread-eagled to the bed then but had woken with her wrist bound at her sides.

He must have moved me as I slept.

Her gaze darted around as an embarrassing blush rose to her cheeks. Tucker had shifted her position as if she was his personal doll. Heaven only knew what else he'd done.

I practically whored myself for him… She pulled in a sharp breath. He must think he can do what he likes.

"Can I please get up and use your facilities, sir?" She made herself meet his eyes that time, all too aware of the crimson heat on her cheeks, yet knowing she had to make her point.

Not only did she genuinely need to relieve herself, but she couldn't stay there and allow him to do anything else. Whatever fragments of boundaries remained intact between them needed to be reasserted and soon. The sooner she got up from his bed, the better.

"It has been a long time since you went." His expression was contemplative as he gazed down at her, those blue eyes boring past the blanket covering her as though he was recalling every inch of her body.

"Yes," she croaked, seemingly pinned to the bed by the weight of his stare. "I do need to go, sir." It was easier to use his self-imposed title that time, the word not sticking in her throat the way it had before.

What was happening to her? It was awful enough to be handed over by her own father, then trussed up like a piece of meat by the man who'd agreed to take her, but the idea that she might actually relish that man's attention… that was too much for her to accept.

"Okay." His brow rose as he gestured behind him. "I've prepared a bucket for this exact purpose."

Her focus flitted in the direction he inferred. A bucket—he had to be fucking kidding.

"Not so impressed with the bathroom facilities, huh?" He chuckled at her apparent dismay. "I thought you might feel that way."

"I'm not allowed to use the toilet?" The discomfiture growing on her face only intensified the wave of indignity washing over her.

Why was he insisting on treating her so badly? Aside from the misfortune of being Alexander Bennett's child, what had she ever done to offend him?

"It's not that." He took a step in her direction, his gaze still drilling into her mortified face.

"What then?" Her chest rose and fell faster under his watchful stare.

She knew, as well as he did, that there wasn't a scrap of clothing protecting her beneath his blanket. All he needed to do was jerk it from her body once more, and she'd be all his for the taking. Her clit tingled at the humiliating prospect.

Why is that so hot?

There should be nothing even remotely arousing at being at this lunatic's mercy, and yet the aftermath of her pleasure remained, fooling her into thinking there might be more to the ordeal than only ropes and denigration.

"You can't use a toilet because there isn't one." His tone softened, as though he was sympathetic to her cause.

Ella couldn't help but doubt that. Aside from the orgasm, Tucker had shown her little in the way of compassion, let alone courtesy.

"What?" Her mind raced. No toilet? Who willingly chose to live without such basic facilities?

Maybe he's not living here willingly?

Her gaze shot around the cabin, surveying its limited amenities. She'd initially considered it large for what was ostensibly a wooden hut, but somehow, she'd never noticed there wasn't even a bathroom. She supposed she'd assumed the toilet would be located in an adjoining shack somewhere. She'd never conceived an existence without one!

No one would choose this.

"You heard me." His tone was clipped, its edge exacerbating her mushrooming panic. "There is no toilet."

"Then where do you…" Her voice trailed away as she pressed her knees together and tried not to dwell on how desperate she was to go.

"Outside." He sniggered, signaling to the window as if she didn't know where ‘outside' was. She glanced fleetingly to the pane, realizing it was still light out there. Evidently, she hadn't slept for as long as she thought she had. "But I didn't think you'd appreciate that."

No, she most certainly did not. One attempt at perching behind a tree was quite enough.

"So, I found you the bucket." His gaze traveled to the dirty-looking metal. "It's been in the barn a while, but it should suffice."

"Th-thanks." Ella didn't know what else to say.

It seemed, in light of the new information, Tucker had been as considerate as he could have been. She had no desire to use the revolting old bucket, but he apparently didn't even have that much luxury.

"You're welcome, little girl." He fell to one knee by the side of the bed, his proximity doing little to quell her hammering heart. "I told you I'd look after you."

For one lengthy and powerful moment, they merely stared at each other. Ella, though still aware of her discomfort, was lost in the depths of his blue eyes. Something about having him so near again evoked the passion they'd created before.

"About earlier…" She cringed as the words fell from her lips. Why had she mentioned earlier? The last thing she wanted to do was remind him of the sexual contact.

"Mmmm." That same dangerous gleam shone in his gaze. "You were amazing."

"Yeah, I…" Catching her lip between her teeth, she struggled to find the right words. What was it she was trying to tell him?

Her brain answered at once, instructing she ought to convey how they should never have allowed the intimacy to happen and how it had meant nothing to her. Yet her heart halted the harsh words, the galloping organ certain that none of it was true. The pleasure he'd given her had been the best part of an exceedingly crappy experience. Why lie about its intensity and risk missing out on more?

"I didn't expect that." That was certainly one way of putting it. Ella couldn't have conceived any of the ordeal, let alone enjoyed a man the same age as her father, stroking her to climax. Her head ached at the paradox.

"I bet." His hand shifted to her face, grazing over her heated cheek. "I'm glad I could help you that way." One delicious dark eyebrow arched. "Even if you fell asleep before you could return the favor."

"Oh." A new kind of shame swept across her.

Shit, is that what happened?

Ella couldn't remember much more than the power of the peak, then waking up on his bed, but his confession and pained expression reassured her of one pertinent point. If she'd left him unsatisfied and he still had needs, then he'd not moved to manipulate her while she slept.

Thank goodness.

"I'm sorry, sir." She caught his eyes, aware she might even mean the apology. Ella hadn't set out to woo the older man who'd held her hostage, but she had welcomed the hedonism he'd unleashed. She would never have deliberately intended to tease him. She might be a lot of things, but a selfish lover wasn't one of them.

"You're okay." His hand cradled her cheek lovingly. "You needed to rest."

"Yes," she agreed. "And now I need to pee."

In the swirl of their unexpected connection, Tucker seemed to have forgotten the most pressing matter. If he didn't act fast, she'd be bound to his very wet bed. She held her breath at the agonizing thought. Whatever happened, she couldn't let that happen.

"Right." He nodded. "I get it, but the question is, how do I trust you to go without bolting for the door again?"

"I won't."

She wasn't sure if it was the urgency of her bladder or the visceral chemistry between them, but as she said the words, she realized she meant them. She hadn't chosen to be there, and she didn't take her captivity lightly, but for the first time since she'd arrived flung over his shoulder, Ella didn't want to run.