16. Kaspian

Chapter 16

Kaspian

THE BOGEYMAN

I 'm not kind. Nor am I gentle, or empathetic, or even somewhat good.

I'm not Elara's knight in shining armor, but rather the devil clothed as one.

Not one ounce of virtue runs through my veins as I capture Elara against my front. She struggles like a mewling kitten even as I hold her with one arm. I've wisely put my legs between hers so she can't knee me in the balls like so many panicked women tend to do.

I catch her not only to restrain her, but to bottle her fury—maybe feed off it—but my body hums with a different sort of craving as soon as she's molded against me. My tongue craves the taste of her skin. My hands itch to explore under her clothes. It's such a primordial and savage need that it's rumbling from deep within, demanding a deadly price.

Elara's innocence shines through even during a temper. Like sweet nectar on my parched soul. For some damn reason, it sparks a new kind of fire inside me, possessive, protective, destructive.

"Take off my sling."

Elara halts mid-punch and whips her chin up. "What?"

"My sling." I nod to my injured shoulder. "I can't very well remove it while pinning you to my body, now can I?"

Her eyes widen, a hint of panic appearing.

"Why would I help you?"

Insubordination coats her every word.

"Because," I murmur, leaning close enough that our breaths mingle, "you wouldn't want me to use my teeth."

I can see her mind processing it, the wheels turning behind the beautiful color of her eyes.

"I'm not doing a single thing to help you until you let me go."

"Hmm," I say, dodging her forehead easily when she tries to connect it with my jaw. "That's unfortunate for you because I love it when you get angry."

When Elara's teeth go for my bottom lip, I let it happen, her sweet growl dancing along my tongue as blood bursts along hers.

Chuckling once she releases me and spits red, I lean closer to her ear, my lips brushing against her soft skin. "You know you want me to touch you, to feel you down there. You remember what it's like, don't you?"

"We're not here for that. We have to find the last flash drive."

The scent of her fear mixes with the lingering sweetness of her shampoo, making my mouth water. My lips tingle in anticipation of the mark they're about to leave.

It takes some wrangling, but I grip her hair, pushing her head toward my bloodied mouth and watching as she tries not to wince at the sight of it. She doesn't look away though, unable or unwilling.

Slowly, deliberately, I drag my tongue across the small cut on my bottom lip, then lick her mouth.

Elara trembles—a mix of revulsion and curiosity. When I pull back, my blood is smeared across her lips, marking the loss of her innocence with a crimson stain.

She tries pushing at me again, but I lean into her more, pinning her tighter until we're practically one entity.

"I'll ask you nicely one more time," I say. "Untie my sling. There won't be any hunt for a flash drive until I'm satisfied."

Her heart thumps hard against my chest, and I swear everything else goes quiet. From her throat comes a quick sound of annoyance.

I yank at the fiery mass of waves framing her face until she yields under my grip, then lower my head to taste the pulse beating wildly in her neck, all the while whispering promises of sugared torment in her ear.

There's a burst of something in her eyes then—resignation? It must be, because she starts working at the knot carefully, her small hands ripping at the linen.

"Good girl," I purr as the sling falls away from my arm and onto the floor with a soft ripple.

I flex my hand experimentally, feeling the ache resonate up to my shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the relentless throbbing in my groin at her proximity.

As soon as she's free, Elara darts away, putting distance between us. "If we're going to find that flash drive together, we need some ground rules."

The sight of a woman standing up to me feels alien, yet fascinating. I cock my head like a wolf being told about house rules.

"Rule number one," she continues firmly, "no touching unless necessary."

A semblance of a laugh escapes past my lips. She acts as if she's got it all figured out.

"Rule number two?—"

I capture her and jerk her back into my chest, a startled gasp slipping past her lips.

"Let me go, Kaspian." Elara's voice is a strained whisper, threaded with resistance.

"What if I don't want to?" I reply, cinching her tighter as I wind her arm behind her back and hold it there.

She lets out a soft whimper, free hand clenching against my shirt, and rather close to the wound at my shoulder. "You're hurting me."

I give a slow, deep laugh at her futile attempt to dissuade me. "Oh beastie, that only tells me you're having fun."

"If you think—" Her words cut off abruptly as my fingers dig into her waist.

"Shut up and strip." My command is solid and hostile, leaving no room for negotiation.

The scent of my beastie now, sweet and tangy with her arousal, hits me like an ax head. So I bite at the hollow of her throat.

"Kaspian," she chokes out, her voice barely above a wheeze.

I lift my gaze, relishing the way the golden hue of her eyes shines with unshed tears. The very same eyes that always manage to bewitch me somehow. "Something more you need to say?"

"I ... I don't know what game you're playing." Her voice wavers.

I laugh, a deep, rolling sound that the cold brick walls can't absorb.

"I don't play games. I find them boring, because I always win," I reply, releasing her waist with one hand and tracing the contour of her jawline with my fingertips. "But I always listen to my needs, and the ache in my cock demands more pressing attention than a USB drive. Needs only you can satisfy."

"But … we need?—"

"I don't believe in asking twice," I remark casually.

"And I don't like repeating the same answer over and over again, yet here we are. No ."

"Shh." I cut her off with a swift, bone-crushing kiss. Tasting her for the millionth time only makes me want more, to consume every inch of her.

Elara's breath is stifled against my lips, but her hands finally come up to grip my shirt. Nails dig into the fabric, eliciting approval from the chasms within my chest.

Without breaking contact, I back her into the desk and hoist her up onto its ancient surface, my shoulder singing with the extra weight, but I ignore its screams.

Mmm , she tastes deliciously spicy tonight, all fire and brimstone. A hellcat beneath my ministrations, pliant to its master.

Elara shucks her hoodie and peels off her T-shirt, sending her auburn hair flowing across my arms. I push her pillow-soft hair to the side, revealing her lacy black bra.

I savor the sight of it, every curve and dip of her body.

My breath stalls as I trace the edge of her bra, letting my fingers graze against her skin, feeling the heat radiating off her. She quivers under my touch and gasps softly.

"Don't," she whispers. "Please remember what's important."

"Right now, you're my priority."

I pull down her bra strap from her shoulder, exposing one perfect breast. Her nipple is hard and begging for my mouth, for my teeth. I take it between my lips, eliciting a sigh as she arches into me. Her scent mingles with mine, our mutual, building arousal intertwining in a concentrated mix.

My tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, teasing it until she cries out in a throaty voice that makes me ache inside.

"More?" I ask against her skin, licking a slow path down her ribs.

Her breath hitches once more as she nods jerkily, unable to speak through the haze of lust clouding her mind. I push the strap off her other shoulder, revealing another perfect globe waiting for me. My hand slides up along her flat stomach, designing patterns that make her moan against my lips, but I pause before cupping her full breast.

"I must warn you. I am about to gladly hurt you. Make you feel agony before I allow you any pleasure, and once you scream my name at the top of your lungs, well … that will incite me to do the worst sexual things I can think up while in this forgotten study."

"Kaspian." Her pleading gaze locks with mine. "Just … don't break me again."

"Oh, but I will."

I've given her plenty of warning, yet she still sits with her legs spread for me. I don't bother with any more. I shove Elara until she's flat against the desk's surface. Papers and trinkets fly everywhere, but I push until her legs are widened to their breaking point and dangling over each edge.

With my teeth bared, I rip at her leggings until her lace underwear is exposed, wet and shining in the candlelight. Elara grits her teeth and moans loudly, her nails digging into the elegant wood paneling.

While my cock strains against my zipper, I pull off my belt and tie one of her legs to the desk's.

"Do you need me to remind you how good it feels when I touch you?" I ask her as I straighten.

I trail my fingers between her inner thighs until I dip beneath the lace of her panties, and two of my digits are met with hot, wet heat. She bucks against me when I curl them.

Elara bites her lip, trying to fight back the moan that wants to escape from deep within her chest.

An immoral grin plays across my lips, my vision hot with delight. Pulling my fingers out since I don't want her too far gone—not yet—I work swiftly, yanking her arms above her head and tying her wrists with the deceptively strong chain of her necklace bearing half the Heart.

Elara notices, tipping her head up with her mouth agape.

"Do everything I command, and you can have the ruby back," I say. "It's useless to us until it's whole, anyway. Better you have it than us for the Sovereigns to find."

"But…"

I put a finger to my lips. Her first order? Hush.

I use the remains of her leggings to tie her other ankle to the desk leg, leaving her split-open cunt hovering near the edge.

With the gorgeous vision at my eyeline, I unzip and release my aching cock from my pants, freeing it from its confines. It springs forward eagerly, twitching with need and hunger.

Elara is at my mercy.

I prowl around her until I'm positioned in front of her mouth, my mouth spreading wide. "Don't forget to breathe."

The head of my cock spears through her lips before she can think to clamp down, choking her until she uses every ounce of her control to suppress her gag reflex.

My hands weave through her hair and guide her back and forth at a firm pace. Elara's cheeks flush, her eyes water, and electricity lances through my groin. I grunt with satisfaction at each thrust.

And then comes the climax. I pull out just in time to spill all over her. The shock of my hot spurts hitting her face and chest startling her. My eyes remain fixed on hers, ignited with triumph as I catch my breath.

I'm not done.

Stalking around the table until I'm between her spread legs, I lift my leg until the bottom of my shoe presses against her pussy. Elara lifts her head, her mouth an angry, disgusted O of shock, but I'm past caring.

This girl has to get out of my head. I can't handle her dominating my thoughts or taking precedence over clearing my family's name and decimating the Sovereigns. Elara is not part of my future. I feel the need to remind her of that.

Get out of my head. Leave my fucking chest—my black heart isn't yours.

Pressing my foot down, I start rubbing her clit with the sole of my shoe in slow circles.

Elara screams out in both loathing and pleasure, her body spasming violently beneath my shoe.

Her hips buck upward, trying to meet my touch at the same time she uses her arms to pull back and recoil. I keep my pace steady, watching the way her chest heaves with each harsh pant. Her hands fumble for something, anything to hold on to, only meeting impenetrable, jagged ruby. She's tied down, a victim of my prerogatives.

I can tell Elara's close; her body is a live wire beneath me, building up more and more with every circle of my shoe. I increase the pressure, relishing the cry that rips from her throat.

"You want to come?" I ask, though it's hardly a question.

"No." Her eyes are furious and desperate. "Not like this. Not like I'm worthless to you."

She's right. Elara's anything but worthless. She's everything, far too much than I've bargained for. A hit too close to home that leaves me reeling, questioning my intentions.

She grimaces and whimpers when I rub the toe of my shoe against her clit, centering on her swollen nub.

An involuntary tremor wracks her body in response. Her outraged pleasure transforms into a stunned silence that blankets the room.

"You're not worthless," I murmur so she can't hear. "You're dangerous."

A choked moan escapes her throat, and she writhes on the desk beneath me. Heat pools between us, thick and dark as tar, every bit as deadly. She's so close to release that I can practically taste it on my tongue.

Tears slip from the corners of her eyes, running down her cheeks and into her hair. But she doesn't break eye contact. She doesn't look away from me even once.

With that, I press harder with my shoe, grinding into her with unrestrained force. Elara cries out in surprise and raw ecstasy as her orgasm crashes over her in waves of pulsating bliss.

Her body convulses and spasms against the desk, the necklace chains rattling while I watch with raptorial satisfaction. This moment belongs to me. I control it all—the whimpers falling from her lips and the quiver of each aftershock surging through her body.

Lifting my foot from her warmth, I thrust into her with my cock, riding out the crest of her orgasm inside her.

"This doesn't mean anything," I warn as I bend over her, pushing into her again.

But we both know it's a lie.

Just as our rapture peaks and we tumble into the abyss together, I can't help but whisper one final command into her ear.

"Forget me."

But even as I say the words, I know she won't. Even if she wanted to, she can't forgive this or forget me. We're bound by something darker than love, something deeper than hate. We're bound by a need that's as destructive as it is irresistible.

I watch with hooded eyes as she comes apart, my own release consuming me in a bonfire of primal sensation. Sweat trickles down my forehead as I collapse on top of her, panting and shuddering from the aftershocks that continue to rock us both.

My shoulder wound has re-opened, mixing blood and semen all over her, over us.

Once I'm sure she's spent, I push off her, leaving Elara panting and splayed, a beautifully demolished mess.

As I fasten my pants and start to collect the scattered papers, I cut a look at Elara—still tied down, still gasping for breath.

I think back to her desperate plea earlier. Don't break me again .

A dark grin tugs at my lips. It's what I do.

Elara tries to regain control of her shaking limbs with a weak attempt to sit up on the desk. Her lips are swollen, her eyes half-lidded from exhaustion.

Damn, she's a sight to behold.

She shoots me a glare that would have any other man ducking, but not me. That tiny ember remaining in her sends a charge through me, like some dick critical care doctor has strapped a defibrillator to my chest and said, He doesn't get to die yet. Let him live inside his wretched mind a little longer .

I stroll over to where the rest of our clothes lay scattered on the floor, gathering them with one arm before throwing her T-shirt back at her without any sort of warning. Her arms, lowered but still chained at the wrist, manage to catch it.

"Clean yourself up," I command, not bothering to turn around as I adjust my own attire.

"You're despicable," she hisses at my back.

I don't argue with her. I sweep my gaze over the room, taking in the debris from the desk, the open drawers, and the upturned chair. Evidence of my inability to keep myself in check when Elara is around. We need to focus on finding the other half of the ruby, not fucking my feelings out.

And that's when I see it: slightly misaligned wood grains on one section of the underside of the chair compared to the rest, and fresh scratch marks, dents, and nicks on the right corner of its underside that look newer than the overall condition of the chair.

Curiosity piqued, I move toward it and kneel, probing at the edges.

Behind me, Elara stirs. "What are you doing?"

I run my fingers along the underside of the chair until the hidden compartment slides open with a sigh, as if relieved to finally be discovered.

Inside, tucked into the corner, is a small flash drive. The third one. My attention darts to Elara involuntarily; she's still tangled amid my various bindings, watching me with a mixture of suspicion and anger. "You found it, didn't you? Maverick's final clue."

Swiftly, I pop out the flash drive and pocket it. I straighten and face her, keeping my gaze dead and emotionless. "You can have your necklace back. That was our deal."

"Deal?" Her brows pull together. "There is no deal . Let me see what's on there, Kaspian."

"No."

To soften the blow, I untie her legs, avoiding each foot as it kicks out to connect with my forehead.

"Not until my brothers and I look at it first."

"He is my brother ? —! "

"And this is our freedom and reputations at stake! " I roar back, baring my teeth. "Your brother is dead. Nothing can bring him back. But I am going to try very hard not to have my brothers die along with him."

Her expression twists with a mixture of anguish, grief, heartbreak—until I can't look at it any longer. With a flick of my fingers, I untangle the chain around her wrists, freeing her.

Elara's hair is a firestorm, her cheeks flush with humiliation and sated pleasure, her lips swollen, her body sullied.

There's an unfamiliar pang in my chest. Something akin to regret or remorse, emotions I'm not used to experiencing.

So I leave.

"You're a monster," she whispers quietly after me.

I freeze for a moment before disappearing into the dark corridor.

Perhaps she's right... as deplorable as a young Kaspian Valenti might've been, there's no denying it. I am a monstrosity.

One, who despite his dark desires and vengeful ambitions, has somehow managed to imprint himself onto a girl as radiant as the sun.