Page 108 of Captive Ruin

“Get off me you, asshole! You don’t ever get to touch me again!”

He walks me toward the bed despite my struggles. I’m no match for his strength and size, and I can’t kick back at him while I’m fighting for balance. Then the edge of the bed hits my thighs, and he traps my legs against it as he bends me forward.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he growls, pulling up the back of my bathrobe while pinning me to the bed with his other hand.

The first blow on my bare ass breaks through the fog of my anger, and I cry out in shock, realizing how vulnerable I am.

I attacked him. I tried to knee him between the legs. No man will accept that, especially one who kills whenever he needs to, without compunction or remorse.

An instant later, the second blow lands on my other cheek, his strength behind it. In the space of a heartbeat, anger gives way to pain, pain to fear, fear to arousal so damn intense that my legs tremble and I have to grip the sheets, gasping at the force of it.

He’s pinning me down, helpless. I’m more naked than not, my ass on fire. He’s never spanked me with so much of his strength. His hand presses between my shoulder blades, keeping me in position as he rains down spank after spank.

I’m gasping in seconds. Crying out in moments. Moaning my defeat as my body reacts to him, the heat from my ass rushing directly to my pussy.

He pauses, the only sound in the room my sobs. He draws in a breath like it pains him, hissing through his teeth, then lets it out with a wince. How is this hurting him? Is his poor hand bruised? It’s nothing compared to my ass.

His fingers dip between my legs, rubbing through my folds, and my soft cries turn to high-pitched gasps. I know I’m wet, but he takes his time spreading it around, brushing across my clit. I can’t help the whimpers that escape. My ass rises of its own accord, because I want more than just his fingers.

I want him.

“I’ve missed this ass,” he murmurs. “This tight little pussy.” He pushes a finger inside me, brushing his knuckle over my g-spot, and I press my face into the bed to muffle my moans. “So wet. So mine.”

How dare he make that claim when he’s abandoned me here?

“I’m not yours,” I spit. “I’ll never be yours.” I press my hands into the bed, trying to push myself up, but he just adds more weight between my shoulder blades.

“You are. Or were you trying to show me something different when you fucked yourself with that blue dildo and moaned my name?”

Shit. I knew there were cameras.

His hand releases me. “Get that robe off and crawl on the bed, Little Stray. I want your ass in the air and your legs spread.”

“No.” I put as much force into that word as I can, trying to twist free, but he presses me back into the bed, this time with his whole body.

“Don’t test me,” he growls, his hand gripping the back of my neck. “I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood?” I buck, trying to get him off me, but it’s impossible. He’s so much stronger and heavier than me.

“Quit that, or I’ll tie you down.”

I laugh, despite his weight on me. “With what, asshole?”

He growls, reaching across to open the drawer I used, hand tightening on my neck to keep me still. It sends tingles shooting down my spine, radiating through me, making me shiver.

My robe has ridden up past my waist, and his hips are pressing into my bruised ass. The mild pain mingles with my arousal, my nipples aching, my whole body awake. My heart beats wildly, blood coursing through me, driving a hunger I didn’t know I was capable of.

And through the fog of it all, I realize I’ve missed this. Not just him, not only his body and the way he touches me, but the way he treats me like I’m the little stray he’s always claimed I am.

His hand only needs to find the scruff of my neck, and my pulse spikes, my thighs clench, and my eyes close. The scariest part is it feels like coming home.

He reaches into the drawer and pulls out the bundle of his bondage rope. It’s still tied neatly around the middle, but every former loop is now two frayed ends. I doubt there’s a piece left that’s more than six inches long.

Linda never knew her scissors went missing.

His body goes still against mine. “What did you do?”

I bare my teeth in satisfaction. “So you didn’t catch that on your camera?”