Page 82 of The Captive
I veered off the main path, crashing through undergrowth that tore at my white dress and left bloody scratches on my legs. The pain only heightened my arousal, made me feel more alive than I had in years.
A twig snapped close behind me. Too close.
I spun around and there he was—the mask transforming his features into something mythic and terrifying.
"Found you," he said in a deep, velvety voice.
I bolted again, adrenaline flooding my system as I crashed through the forest. Behind me, his pursuit was relentless. Not the frantic chase of panic—he was toying with me. He could have caught me already if he'd wanted to.
The thought sent wetness flooding between my thighs.
I heard a creek ahead, water rushing over stones in the darkness. If I could reach it, maybe I?—
A hand fisted in my hair, yanking me backward with brutal force. I cried out, more from surprise than pain, as Alexander spun me around to face him. The mask made him alien, a mystery, the anonymity so, so hot.
"Did you really think you could outrun me?" he growled, his grip tightening until tears sprang to my eyes. "In my own territory?"
"Fuck you," I spat, trying to twist away. The pain in my scalp sent sparks of arousal straight to my core.
His laugh was dark, appreciative. "There's the fire I wanted to see."
He slammed my back against a tree, bark scraping my already torn dress, his body pinning me in place. Through the mask's eye holes, I could see his pupils dilated with hunger.
"You like this," he observed, one hand still fisted in my hair while the other traced the rapid pulse at my throat. "The pain, the fear. Your nipples are hard as diamonds, and I can smell how wet you are."
"You're wrong," I lied, even as my body betrayed me by arching into his touch.
"Am I?" His free hand ripped the thin fabric of my dress, exposing my breast to the cool night air. When his thumbscraped roughly over my nipple, I couldn't suppress my moan. "Your body doesn't lie, beautiful. You're dripping for me."
He released my hair only to grab both my wrists, pinning them above my head with one large hand. The position stretched me against the tree, leaving me completely vulnerable to his touch.
"I should punish you for running," he mused, "for making me chase you through the woods like some wild animal."
"Then do it," I challenged, meeting his gaze through the mask. "If you think you can break me."
His free hand moved to my throat, not squeezing but resting there with an implicit threat.
"Careful what you ask for," he warned. "I'm not feeling particularly gentle tonight."
Before I could respond, he hauled me away from the tree, half-dragging me toward the sound of running water. The creek was narrow but deep, moonlight turning the surface to liquid silver.
"On your knees," he commanded, shoving me down onto the rocky bank.
I complied, my knees scraping against stone as I knelt before him. The position was submissive, degrading, and it sent liquid heat flooding through my core.
"Hands behind your back."
I obeyed, watching as he produced a length of rope from somewhere on his person. The silk whispered against my skin as he bound my wrists, the restraints tight enough to bite if I struggled.
"Now," he said, crouching before me so we were at eye level, "let's see how well you can follow orders."
He grasped my chin roughly, forcing my mouth open with his thumb. "You're going to stay exactly like this until I decide what to do with you. And if you move, if you try to run again..." Heleaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "I'll make sure you regret it."
The threat sent shivers down my spine, made my bound hands clench instinctively behind my back. This was exactly what I'd wanted—to experience the full force of his true nature without the safety net of civilised restraint.
"Please," I whispered, not entirely sure what I was begging for.
"Please what?" He traced my lower lip with one finger, the gesture deceptively gentle. "Please hurt you? Please use you? Please remind you exactly who's in control here?"
