The Fallen (A Sons of Wrath Prequel) (14 page)

CHAPTER 13

Karinna felt her pulse hammering in her fingertips as she sat strapped and cuffed to the spanking horse he’d conveniently dragged to the center of her bedroom. It must’ve been a good hour since Xander had stumbled in drunk. The man seemed to have a thing for keeping her on edge. Like he loved her discomfort. He probably got off on her frustration as she waited—ever so goddamn patiently—for him to get on with the show.

That, or the asshole had passed out, in which case,
frustration
didn’t even cover it.

She’d learned patience, knew that revenge would be long and slow.

Sitting strapped to a horse for an hour bordered on madness.

She also knew the psychological factors that affected women in captivity. Being reduced to Maslow’s very basic of needs. And right then she needed a fucking sip of water more than anything else. More than her hands to be unbound. More than her ass to be covered, instead of propped like an offering. Even more than a shower with copious amounts of bleach, after the man she hardly knew left her wetness pooling in her panties with nothing more than his wicked stare and a few threats of pain.

Seriously fucked up, Karinna.

She tugged at the binds. No use.

Her blindfold kept her at the mercy of her other senses, which, truth be told, were beginning to fail her.

“Xander?”

“My name. Sounds so … on your … lips.”

A thump sounded like he’d fallen against the wall. “You’re fucking me up, angel.” He dropped somewhere to the left of her. “I can’t stay away from you.”

She stiffened at the warmth of his bare skin touching her, not just his hand but what she made out as the narrow stretch of body that could only be his hips. Naked? With his head buried in her neck, hot breath fell against her flesh and she turned toward the scent wafting past her nose. Bourbon? No, way more potent.

“Ready for your next lesson?”

As drunk as he’d gotten, that could mean anything. Perhaps, though, the more she gave and he took, the closer she’d get to her goal. Like a pendulum swinging back and forth. “I’m ready.”

The blindfold lifted.

He’d propped a mirror in front of her. What should’ve horrified her and left her cringing into a ball of absolute shame seemed to touch something dark inside of her. Xander’s massive body stood behind her, a long black whip, hanging from his fist. His dick stood high and proud and his nipple piercings glinted with the flinch of his pec’ muscles. Tattoos covered his chest, but only the outermost edge of ink across his ribcage could be seen in the reflection—most of the image remained hidden behind the rounded crest of her ass pointed right at him.

Dangerous. The sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her life.

Beautiful.

A flutter in her belly spread to her arms, and her fingers instinctively curled around the wooden horse, as if her body suddenly decided it was in for a ride. She clamped her eyes shut, a poor attempt to battle the visual already trapped inside her mind.

“Open your eyes. Watch this. Watch what I do to you.”

His voice traveled her spine, dark and wicked. It didn’t matter that every fiber of her screamed back in defiance, she did exactly as told.

The whip came down and, like hell’s-fire catching Karinna’s flesh, the agony spread across her ass in a wild blaze. She clenched the bit between her teeth and swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. Tightening her stomach, she prepared for the next strike.

He waited. Therefore, she waited.

That evil glint in his eye told her everything. Her pain, his pleasure, and all the emotions clogging her head wouldn’t get in the way of that.

Lightning heat flashed along her skin, and she squeezed the horse, clutching, as if forcing the pain to escape through her fingertips into the lifeless piece of wood that could give two shits whether or not she suffered.

Motherfucker!

Another crack.

Thighs clenched, she wished for the burn to quickly dissipate. A moan escaped her. A mistake.

He groaned from behind, and Karinna licked her lips as he stroked himself, his eyes cast downward as if he admired the welts he’d inflicted. Sickeningly enough, the visual turned her on.

Knowing that she’d made him desperate, craving, insane with lust.

Hungry for violence.

Just like her.

Up until then, he’d kept his desires on a short leash.

Another lick. Another. His fervor heightened. Breaths hastened.

Quiet grunts burst inside her chest with each snap. 

Burned.  Seared.  Split open an ominous chamber in her head—one she couldn’t bring herself to look inside, for fear she’d
like
the dark cravings held within. 
No.  Look away. 
Impossible, with every crack of leather and the sharp sting that chased it.

“Embrace the pain.” His voice broke through her tormented thoughts.

Let go, Karinna. Surrender. Submit. Find pleasure in pain
. Much as she fought Lita’s voice, she longed to do just that.

Karinna had to remind herself that she’d asked him for the torment. She’d understood from the first time she’d heard about the Sadismen that any and all ties to what she once knew, what had once been considered normal, the control that she’d once loved to possess, would disappear into the suffering and humiliation.

The only ticket into
Hard Limits
came through pain. So be it. Humiliation came easier with pain.

Surrender.

Xander.

The chiding words of her mother invaded her thoughts, telling her she deserved it. For all she’d chosen, all she’d fucked up over the last few months, the pain was her purging.

Shame. Humiliation. Ungodliness.

Oh, the ungodliness. If her mother could see them: Xander, naked and glorious, stroking his thick cock as he whipped her ass, and Karinna, welcoming the burn like a good, sinning whore.

Lolita drifted through her mind. How many times she must’ve smiled, thinking of mother and father as she indulged in her darkest desires.

Nameless, faceless sex with no conditions. No obligation.

White masks. Crack. Whip. Laughter. Blood. Nails scraping wood.

Karinna screwed her eyes shut.
No, no. Don’t.
Falling into the madness of those images could give him the upper hand. She had to let him know she wouldn’t break. Broken girls stayed away from the club, and Karinna wanted in.

Another crack against her ass, and Karinna’s knuckles burned with the effort of clutching the wood. She wanted to smile and cry at the same time.

Find pleasure in pain.

She’d made the commitment to vengeance. If agony was her penance, the hell she had to walk through just to see her blade slice through every one of their throats, so be it.

Weak thoughts hardened with every pitiless blow from behind. Strengthened.

She arched her ass with each new strike. Met it proudly, pushing the pain down into some dark compartment of her mind, and floated away on a cloud of cathartic bliss.

Fuck them all.

Nothing else mattered. Only the bite of the whip. Only him, meting out her punishment and dominating her focus.

A long interval passed. Muscles tensed, she waited for the next sting, the burn he’d promised would come.

Lifting her gaze showed Xander had fallen to his knees, his face hidden behind her ass. That infamous tongue glided up and down her swollen cleft, and she let out a tortured moan and bucked forward.

Just as she’d come to accept the pain—hate and want and need twisting around in her messed up brain—his touch turned tender. “Please … Xander.” Gentle.

She shook her head.
No!
She needed pain again. It kept her focused on slicing blades through throats. His touch shorted out those thoughts and forced her to concentrate on what he was doing from behind.

His palms squeezed the back of her thighs, and he spread her open like a petal desperate for the sun’s heat. His tongue ventured into places she’d never let a man touch—along her clit up into her ass. Shivers danced beneath her sensitive flesh, and thighs tightened, she lifted her hips as much as the binds allowed. Humiliation threatened to steal the pleasure. No one had ever touched her reverently. Not there. Like he worshipped her. His kisses and moans telling her he enjoyed it.

As if
he
needed gentle.

An explosion brewed deep inside her stomach. Only the rush of the impending fall kept her propped up on the horse. Long breaths turned to pants as she rounded the corner, the edge of ecstasy only just out of reach.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Cool air rushed across her hot flesh, his breath no longer fanning the heat.

No!
His hands continued to massage the backs of her thighs, rendering her almost mad with the need to come, spread before him, wet and ready as she’d ever been.

“You like this.”

Karinna couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. She wanted to scream and tugged at the binds, desperate to finish
herself
off.

“Tell me how much you like this.” He wrenched the bit from her mouth.

“Xander.” She writhed, hoping to entice him. No use. The man was pure, unfettered steel. Unbreakable.

Fingers dug into her hips. “Only when you’ve earned permission to
scream
my name, are you allowed to
call
me by name.”

Karinna snarled. Snarled! The asshole had brought her down to the level of an animal, making animal grunts and sounds. The word filled her mouth like sour sardines: “Master ….”

“Master, what?”

“Fuck me. Is that what you want to hear? Finish me. Don’t leave me this way.”

One long lick damn near sent her soaring over the edge. Her stomach spasmed from it, ass clenched. He owned her—and that was saying something, because no man had ever
owned
her before.

His cock rubbed against her ass, and she fell limp, wanting to surrender to it.

“This is what you do to me every day.” His whisper feathered her ear. “All I can think about is fucking you. Eating your pussy. Then fucking you again.” He smoothed his hands along her sides and gripped her hips, pressing them into his own. “You’re driving me insane.”

Karinna cried out. Goddamn it, every word that slipped from his mouth held the same buzz as the liquor on his breath. The deep tone of his voice oozed sex and promised so many wicked things.

“Do it. I want it.”

“How does it feel? Wanting something so bad?” His hands glided up her back and slipped beneath her body, pinching her nipples until they could slice fabric.

The buzz didn’t wear off. It got worse. With each brush, each caress, every word that he planted in her head, painting a picture of sheer erotic ecstasy, she fringed closer to climax. As he continued to toy with her nipples, she focused, trying to forget that perfect cock positioned right where she needed him to thrust, then, failing, concentrated on his strong petting fingers. She could come that way.

The rush of heat built again. Mouth open, she nailed her eyes shut, locked in the fantasy playing inside her head, in which his muscles glistened with sweat, tattoos rippling as he railed into her from behind, fucking her like a boss.

She imagined his face, that masculine arrogance, knowing how much she wanted what he gave her.

The tickling at her nipples disappeared.

No!
Her breath hitched and she damn near sobbed. Muscles trembling with the overwhelming need to come, she could barely keep upright. She wanted to end the game. Lose interest and leave him feeling ineffective.

“Denial of pleasure is a pleasure in itself.” He yanked the bit back into place.

Karinna could’ve smacked the smugness in his voice right out of him.

Sadistic bastard.

His finger slithered inside of her pussy. She jerked forward against the horse and clenched around him, withdrawing inward at the invasion. Another probe signaled a second finger had joined the first.

The bit vibrated with her grunts as she gnashed her teeth against it.
Fuck!

She hated her body for responding to him. For allowing him to control her. Every nerve, crafted just for him—electricity shocking her libido into overdrive.

Slowly he pumped. In and out. Wet sounds gave way to a second’s pause and his
Mmmm
could only be the approval of her juices against his tongue. She didn’t dare move. Moving would indicate interest, and he clearly didn’t have her best interests in mind.

“You’re so tight,” he rasped. “Taste so sweet.”

She ignored his words, inwardly whimpering as his fingers continued to fuck her. Her heart kicked up. Muscles tensed. He gathered her wetness and rubbed it across her clit. Upped the pace, in and out. Harder. Faster. She dared a glance into the mirror to see his head tipped back, eyes shut, stroking himself as he fingered her from behind.

Karinna lost it. She clutched the horse and rode his finger. A series of
ah, ah, ah’s
coaxed another finger inside.

She could damn well piss herself as the orgasm crashed over her, seizing her breath. Cries of relief reverberated inside her skull. Numbness and pleasure coating her battered muscles.

Her head lolled to the side. Xander stood, knees slightly bent, stroking faster. He’d stopped pumping his fingers. Only a thumb gently rubbed up and down her slick slit. As if he still needed the connection to her flesh in order to come.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck!” His eyes locked on hers in the mirror’s reflection, fury and pain blazing in swirls of silver. “Watch me. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Warm seed hit her back and fell into the curve of her spine.  She arched into it, ass high and proud, allowing the fluids to pool in the dip of her back.

“You like that?” He fisted her hair with one hand as his palm spread his cum all over the small of her back. “Does my rapacious little girl like the feel of pure fucking torment spread across her body?” He slapped her ass.

The excitement built again.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He fell forward and buried his face in her nape. Each hard breath blasted heat against her drenched, sticky flesh and damp hair. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.”