Chapter Two

Ragged

Ella

"No!" Trembling with rage, Ella pulled harder at the ropes.

How could this be happening? How had she fallen asleep in her own bed and wound up in this nightmare?

"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me!"

She punctuated each word, concluding the order by doing something she would never have normally done, but Tucker had gone too far—he deserved the disrespect. Drawing her head away from the fiend, she pitched forward and spat at him. The brute was too tall for her spittle to reach its intended target, of course, but watching it land in the crook of his neck and begin its descent swelled well-needed satisfaction within her.

Yes.She straightened despite the cold. That's what you get when you cross me, you fucker!

"Silly, girl." Wiping her drool from his Adam's apple with one hand, he bared his teeth as his glare darkened. In a split second, Ella's emotions careened from euphoria to fear.

Oh, shit!Her heart sped up as he flicked her spittle into the hay, the organ pounding even faster than it did when he'd tipped the contents of the cup over her in the first place. What had she done by provoking the beast? She'd never seen anyone as angry as he looked as he fixed his glower on her.

"I'm sorry."

The words rushed from her mouth in an instant, even though it should have been humiliating to apologize, and she didn't even vaguely mean the sentiment. She could tell she'd made a serious error in judgment in allowing her fury to control her behavior. It wasn't that her actions were unwarranted—the asshole deserved everything she could deliver—but while she was in such a vulnerable position, she'd been a fool to poke the bear.

"You're sorry?" He balked, his jaw stiffening as though he was working hard not to tear her head from her shoulders.

"Yes, I…" Hesitating, she grappled for the right words. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Only to spit at me?" His chin rose, his features once again eerily lit by the oil lamp on the floor between them.

"Look what you did!" She nodded to her chest, drawing both of their attention to her silky bra. She regretted the gesture immediately. At least his anger seemed to have dampened his lust, but now she'd highlighted his accomplishments as though soaking and half-stripping her were somehow achievements.

"You're lovely." The familiar glint of desire shone in his blue eyes as he shook his head. "But even those tits can't make me forget what you've done."

What I've done?She might have laughed had she not been so petrified about what came next. She'd questioned Tucker's sanity before that moment, but staring at him, she could only conclude he was mad. How could anything she'd done compare to what had been done to her?

"I said I was sorry." She was so damn cold, the frigid forest air and the water he'd thrown over her only heightening her chill.

"Hmmm." He glanced behind her. "Shame I don't believe you."

"What are you going to do?"

Suddenly, she had to know. Enough of wondering and worrying. The trepidation of what was to come was doing nothing to quell her hammering heart. Whatever his answer, she might as well know the score.

"Now?" His focus flew back to her.

"Yes, now."

Her voice lacked conviction that time, but it was too late to change her mind. Resolve gleamed in his gaze, conveying that whatever her view, his mind about what happened next was made up.

"Enjoy you." There wasn't a flicker of remorse in his matter-of-fact tone as he closed the distance between them. "You're here, and you're mine, so I might as well make the most of you."

"What?" she demanded. "What does that mean?"

If there was an emotion beyond terror, that was where Ella was thrust now. Captured by the prospect of unknown torment every bit as much as the coarse strands of the ropes, she had no choice but to wait on his verdict.

"It means I've heard enough from you." Crouching down to the small pile of items he'd brought back with him, Tucker grabbed something from behind the oil lamp.

Her gaze searched his palm as he lifted it toward her, unable to make out anything save for what appeared to be the two ends of a black strap, one with a buckle attached.

"What are you doing?" Fleetingly, she searched his face before her attention darted to his palm again. Whatever it was, the item was fast approaching. "What is that?"

"A gift." His tone was sardonic as he started a circuit around her body. "Something else for you to think about."

She turned her head to follow him, reluctantly having to cede once he slipped out of her peripheral vision.

"Wha—"

He moved like lightening, hoisting the unknown object over her head and cutting off her sentence as his large hands drew close to her mouth.

Oh God. She wasn't certain how much more panic her poor heart could take.

"What ar—"

As though he'd waited for the exact moment her lips were apart, Tucker slid something between her teeth before tightening the straps she'd seen around the back of her head. In a matter of seconds, the unidentified obstruction was wedged in her mouth permanently. Panic ballooned as she registered her plight.

He's gagged me!

She couldn't believe it. Tucker had vowed to make her quiet, but she'd never anticipated a response as awful as this. Flicking her tongue around the foreign body, she realized it was a small ball of some sort—the perfect size and shape to prevent her from speaking.

"Ooooh!" she protested, kicking out at the bastard as he tightened the buckle at the back of her head. Sadly, though, each of her efforts failed to hit their target, the frustration only ratcheting up her outrage.

First, the swine had taken her and transported her like cargo, then he'd had the audacity to truss her up like an animal, and now this… Ella had never felt so indignant in her life! Seething at his treatment of her, she threw her heel back once more, satiated when it finally connected with something hard.

His shin.Sickening gratification washed over her as he cried out in pain. Finally, he understood a fraction of what she was feeling.

"Stop that." He had the balls to actually admonish her for self-defense, but his words had little impact as she held onto her small victory.

He might be able to restrain and silence her, but she wasn't giving up. She wanted him to know that with every fiber of her being.

It's not over!

"That hurt, Ella." His brow creased as he stalked around to face her.

Good. She shot him the reply with her eyes. I hope it fucking stung.

"We're going to have to work on your impetuousness, little girl." He chuckled, his lips curling as he surveyed her no doubt thunderous expression.

Little girl?Had the bastard just called her a child?

"That's enough." He reached for her face, trailing a fingertip along the line of the strap holding the blasted gag in place before she dodged away from his caress.

It didn't matter that he was being gentle instead of brutal or that his expression looked almost handsome as he flicked the length of his dark hair from his eyes. Ella didn't want any of his attention. She couldn't bear the sight of him.

"I don't want acrimony between us." His brow rose as though he believed his own bullshit. "It doesn't have to be vicious."

Then why am I tied up and gagged?Glaring at him, she hoped her stare conveyed the demand she could no longer speak.

"No more tantrums." His stare drilled into her. "I might punish you and cause you short-term hurt." His digit rose to her chin this time, tracing a line over her goosing skin. "But I won't cause you any harm."

Hurt? Her breath sped up as the word rattled around her head. That was a relative concept. She'd been strung up and spanked—didn't that constitute harm?

"Do you understand?" His finger paused, hooking under her chin and compelling her attention back to his face.

What does he expect me to do? She forced air from her nostrils. I can't fucking answer.

"Nod if you understand."

Fine.She forced her head up and down, her toes curling at his smug smile.

"Good girl."

There was that word again—girl. She was twenty-six years old and not a hapless child! How dare he call her that? How dare he treat her that way?

"You've settled down nicely." His thumb stroked her jaw as he went on. "I like this version of you, Ella."

I bet you do.Her gaze flitted away from his, unable to handle his scrutiny.

Why? She searched herself for the answer. Why do I care what he thinks? Her pulse accelerated as his caress lowered to her collarbone, and much though she was loathed to admit it, the warmth of his skin was welcome.

I'm cold.She glanced down to acknowledge his touch. That's all it is. Just the cold…

Avoiding the intensity of his gaze, she refused to believe there could be any other motivation for her skin's goosing reaction. His water had soaked her, and she was standing in a fucking barn—that was all.

It had nothing to do with his soft ministrations nor his large blue eyes. Briefly, her focus rose and looked into those eyes. Had they always been that alluring oceanic shade? They were like two pools she might have dove into had she not been bound in his barn.

Only the cold.She balled her hands into fists in the ropes over her head, refusing to believe any alternative to the narrative playing out in her head.

She was cold and wet. Period.

She didn't want him, didn't enjoy his attention, and would never accept the things he had done.

Tucker Bowman was a monster.