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“You don’t know what you want.” He slams his hips into mine, though before I can make a sound, his fingers press tight again, cutting off my air. Black spots dance in my vision, and seconds later he lets go, only to do it again.
And again.
“Stop,” I whimper, jerking hard on my arms. “Can’t breathe, can’t—” My words come to a stop when he presses down hard on the sides of my throat, completely cutting off my air in that one movement.
“That’s the point,” he reminds me, panting. “Your cunt gets so tight when I do this. Did you know that?” He’s taunting me, considering he knows I can’t answer or deny him. “Fuck, but you just love this so much.”
He still isn’t letting go.
I gasp for the air that I need; my lips parted and head swimming. When he finally releases the pressure, I can barely hold myself up. I can barely do anything but breathe and lean against him, fingers curled in the ropes over my head.
Stop, I want to tell him, though no other word even comes to mind. Somehow, my body is responding to him, to this, even though it should be in fear and survival mode.
I shouldn’t want this. Not at all. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than the lightheadedness when he cuts off my air, the blackness, and the way it causes me to want to scream in something other than fear.
“Kayde,” I gasp out his name, aware that my entire body is trembling. “Kayde, please, I’m gonna come. Please let me?—”
He turns my face enough to kiss me hard, his mouth filthy and demanding against mine. He ends it by licking up the tears spilling from my eyes, and my eyes find his wolfish grin seconds before it clicks.
“I know,” he tells me, and cuts off my air again. He shifts, his other hand splayed against my lower stomach so he can drag me back against him as tightly as he can. His thrusts are as brutal as Kayde himself, and I see stars every time he slams into my pussy.
Though, that could also be from the lack of oxygen.
I gasp and writhe, mouth forming begging pleas while fresh tears run down my cheeks, hot on my skin. The black spots return, bringing a fuzzy darkness to the edges of my vision when he still doesn’t let go.
I’m going to die. Or at the very least, pass out. There’s no way I can do this. No way I can stay conscious. I’m going to?—
He releases his hand the moment that I come. My orgasm nearly tears me apart, especially as I draw breath into my screaming, burning lungs. It should hurt and burn and feel all around miserable, yet I’m sure I’ve never come so hard in my fucking life.
It continues, going on as he fucks me through it, and my abused airway finally gets unobstructed airflow. My chest heaves, and seconds later Kayde snarls a curse against my throat, biting down on one of the worst marks and making me cry out as his hips collide sharply with mine one last time.
I swear everything he does just makes me come harder. I hang onto my last bit of thought, my resentment toward the serial killer in my camp, but it’s not enough. Not when my release is dragged out by his, and seems to want to take me down with a vengeance.
“Kayde…” I breathe, something scathing on my tongue.
Only, it never makes it to his ears.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Come on, Summer. I’d really like you to wake up for me.” The low, concerned voice is strange and unfamiliar, and for a moment I’m sure I’ve died and gone…somewhere probably not Heaven.
But I groan in response, especially at the firm tapping against my cheek. I’m definitely dead, I think, as consciousness seeps into me slowly. Because when I was alive, I’d been tied to two wooden poles in the boathouse. Now, however, I feel like I might be in bed.
Unless I’ve spontaneously managed to teleport, that definitely can’t be true.
“There you are, baby.” The rasp of Kayde’s voice is soft in my ears, and I murmur something unintelligible that I doubt was even words in the first place. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Slowly, I drag my head from side to side, eyes still firmly closed. I’m met with a surprised huff that might be a chuckle, if I really look into it. “Okay, well, sorry to disappoint you, but I really need you to open your eyes for me.”
“What will you give me?” I slur, flexing my sore wrists that are laying on my stomach. Feeling is slowly coming back to me, and if I were to say the ache in my body isn’t first and foremost pleasurable, I’d be lying. “If I open them.”
“Well, I’ve already untied you and carried you to your cabin without anyone thinking I’m hauling around your corpse,” Kayde replies, bemused. “Figured you’d want your bed more than the boathouse floor or mine. And I’m about to rub aloe on your wrists and ankles so they don’t burn. You sort of did a number on yourself. I didn’t realize how hard you were pulling. Next time, princess, I’ll get you fur-lined handcuffs.”
“Better be expensive fur.”
“I’ll consider it if you open your eyes.”
I do, halfway through his words. My bedside lamp is on, casting a dim orange glow throughout the small cabin. He doesn’t expect it so soon, I think, otherwise he wouldn’t be looking at me with something that seems like a mix of concern and adoration.
