“Her name is Piper.”
Kinley fought back the unexpected tears welling up in her eyes as the familiar name slammed into her. His face blurred. Piper was the name of that unconscious female, not a plane.
“After he took her, I helped them escape.”
He took her? Who took Piper? Her tummy rolled with nausea. What did Blackie mean?
Her imagination suddenly ran wild. Visions of naked flesh. Grunts in the darkness. A heavy body lying on top of her. Her legs spread-eagle. She’d been unable to move. Unable to fight them off. Oh God. Panic.
No, don’t do this to me!
The tender pad of his thumbs wiping away her tears made Kinley return to the present. She blinked, her heart beating faster, unable to understand what that ugly memory meant. One thing she knew for certain, it didn’t pertain to the event that had led her to kill a man. This was something altogether different.
She tried to quell her anguish from the flashback she’d just experienced.
“The one who looks like you will be kept safely by Jarod. He is big and strong as I am. He is also gentler. She appears to enjoy his lovemaking.”
She? Piper? Okay, concentrate.
Piper was the unconscious woman in that swamp. Kinley remembered another woman. She’d told Kinley to stay with the unconscious one. And Kinley had…until she’d left to go find food and, when she had returned, Piper was gone. Yes, she remembered now.
That meant Piper was alive and this guy had helped her escape. He had empathy. He would help her too. Obviously he’d found her in the swamp and taken care of her. He couldn’t be totally bad if he was so concerned about her memory either. Despite needing to remember more, she couldn’t think of anything but having this guy’s big body pressed against hers. Her earlier panic—then again in that flashback—was gone. Suddenly, with this guy, she felt…safe.
“Up, on your feet,” he commanded. He didn’t wait for her to react before he grabbed her wrists and easily pulled her to standing.
“Stand still. This will be over quickly,” he whispered, almost tenderly.
With his free hand he lifted one part of the chain. It had a clip. “This will attach to the middle loop of your collar.”
He brought her away from his body and she kept her stance defiant as he hooked the chain to the loop at her throat. The gentle brush of his knuckles against her chin made her inhale strongly at the electrical intensity of his touch. The tinkle of the chains was musical and soothed her rattled nerves.
“These,” he held up a couple of smaller, more delicate chains, which were attached to another part of the main chain, “are clamps. They will go on your nipples.”
Her pussy creamed at the thought of his hands on her breasts.
Oh boy! Was she perhaps in another sleep fantasy?
“Put them on your own nipples,” she muttered.
To her surprise, he laughed. “You learn fast. When I feel you are ready, I will let you put them on me. In the meantime, I will outfit you.”
His free hand brushed against her clothed right breast. She stiffened at the touch. Not because she didn’t like it, but because she did.
Shit, what was wrong with her? He could kill her if he chose, yet she wasn’t afraid. He held her freedom in his hands. Was she in shock? Perhaps, but if she was in shock, would she be so alert to the next move of him clamping her nipples?
She had no other choice but to submit. To give up all her control…or at least make him
think
she was giving up all control. He would become complacent and then she would run.
“Turn around,” he instructed.
“Why?” she snapped, wondering what he was up to.
“When I say turn around, you will do it. Or do you wish to look me in my eyes while I touch you?”
What the hell? Confusion zipped through her. What made him think she would let him touch her?
A jolt of energy slammed though her neck and shimmered throughout the erogenous zones of her body. Her breasts, nipples, her pussy, even her ass were all sensually stimulated at the same time. She almost dropped to her knees from the erotic impact as it curled through an unusually sensitive spot behind her earlobes, around her mons and even beneath her armpits.
The son of a bitch! There was something in the collar. An energy—not painful, but sensual. It electrified all her senses. It seemed as if she were about to…to have an orgasm.
And then the electrical stimulation was gone and the impact left her breathing hard and anticipating his next words.
“You must obey me,
Kin-lee
. It is in your best interest. I must show the Boys you belong to me and I can do so only if you obey.”
“I am not a dog. I am a woman,” Kinley replied sternly.
And who in the hell are the Boys?
His harsh scowl gentled and his tone softened. “You are female. You belong to me. Do you not understand? Have you never heard of Death Valley? Of the Death Valley Boys and our ways?”
“With a quaint name like that why would you want to go back there?”
At her question, a flash of amusement sparkled in his eyes.
Her gaze flew to the small remote in the palm of his hand. To his thumb on a button. An orgasm box. That’s what it would do if she didn’t obey. It would stimulate her to the point where she wanted him to fuck her. Ingenious contraption.
She didn’t want him pushing that button. Didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of seeing her aroused again.
“Turn around.” His voice was cool once again. Cool and commanding. He held up the box in a threatening manner and she tried hard not to look down as he held what appeared to be a leather belt in his other hand.
Damn him.
She sighed in defeat, turned around. She could not move, could not protest as he placed the leather belt around her waist. She inhaled at the odd excitement shimmering through her as he pressed his body against her backside. His arms came around and moved her bound wrists closer to the belt at her waist. Within an instant, he clipped each of her cuffs to the belt.
Instinctively, she moved her hands to see how much give she had outward. She estimated about two inches. Yep, she was definitely caught.
Lulled by the soft, delicate sound of his breathing, she focused on his tanned hands as they moved from the clip to her naked belly.
She tensed, both loving and fearing this intimate touch.
“I will not take you against your will, female. But the Boys will. We must have sex before we reach Death Valley. And when we do have sex, you will be begging me for it,” he said in her ear.
Arrogant bastard!
She shook her head. “I will never beg you,” she whispered, her voice thick and husky.
Heat chased over her skin as he slipped his hands beneath her top and under her heavy breasts. His palms on her flesh were scorching, enticing.
Oh God. Would he take her against her will even though he said he wouldn’t?
“As I will never beg you, female,” he taunted.
To her surprise he didn’t cup her breasts. Instead, he pulled her back and closer against him. She stilled as the full outline of his very thick and long cock branded her right buttock. He’d obviously removed his loincloth.
The cloth she wore on her lower half was short and, from the imprint of heat lashing her, she would estimate his cock at a good ten inches with a three-inch girth. Just as big as she remembered the times he’d masturbated in the river.
A flash of her first time stealing into his camp slipped into her mind. She’d been so scared he would wake up, she’d grabbed the first thing stuffed in his pack. It had been that weird-looking hair blanket she’d found draped over her lower half the first time he’d finger-fucked her. That blanket was what she’d used to make her clothing.
She may not remember who she was, but she did prefer wandering around the jungle with some semblance of clothing to protect her body from the lashings of the ferns and branches. Thankfully the bump she’d had on her right temple was gone. That goose egg would explain her memory loss and jumbled thoughts.
Maybe it was better her memory hadn’t returned. Maybe if it had, she wouldn’t be feeling so…free? Obviously that earlier flashback of her pinned down by several men and being very afraid gave her the clue she had some issues to deal with.
Kinley blinked at that thought of being free. Heck, she was anything but free. Well, maybe in an odd way she was. She didn’t have to think of anything. Now that he’d caught her, she wouldn’t have to worry about where her next meal would come from or how she would get out of here.
She had to do…nothing.
Hell…reality check, Kinley. You are his captive. He is in charge. He has all the decision-making powers for your survival.
“Feel the imprint of my cock against your body, Kinley. Feel the heat of my hands on your body,” he whispered.
For a split second, she did as he asked. The intoxicating outline of his cock and the nice way his hands were splayed over her belly held her attention.
But then she realized exactly what he was doing. Why he touched her from behind. He was planning. Preparing her. Getting her used to his touch. Getting her ready for him. For those Boys.
She inhaled sharply as his hands moved slightly higher and his thumbs caressed the undersides of her breasts. For some insane reason, she concentrated on what he was doing with his hands. Her pussy clenched as his thumbs swept upward and over her nipples. Instantly they tightened and beaded into hard pebbles.
She swallowed. Breathed deeply. Shivered at the sensations. Centered all her attention on his touches. His heat. Him.
“I can feel your control lessening,” he breathed.
Oh damn him, he was right.
He began rubbing his palms over her nipples, creating erotic sparks and unleashing shivers. Wetness erupted between her thighs. Oh God! She hated this. Loved this. She was mad. She was high. She was nuts.
He tweaked, tugged and brushed her nipples, unleashing fires of excitement. Flames of need. Fiery licks of want.
A pinch heated her nipple. She didn’t have to look down to see what he was doing. Knew instinctively what he’d done to her. She inhaled at another pinch on her other nipple.
She loved it!
His breathing quickened. Hers met his and matched the rapid rhythm. Her breasts were heavy, swollen. Her pussy throbbed. She needed him. Inside.
She blew out a tense breath as his hands left the nipple clamps on her. The musical tinkling of the silver chains finally encouraged her to lower her gaze.
The outlines of the tiny clamps, her large pebbled nipples and the sensual outline of her swollen, heavy breasts showed beneath the top she wore. The visual aroused her. The thick band of his cock pressing harder against the curve of her ass had her pussy and her fists clenching in frustration.
No, she would not beg. She could stand this. He was just getting her used to his touch. But truly, somewhere deep inside her, she wanted to beg. Wanted him to beg.
Oh shit.
He obviously knew how to torment a female, didn’t he? Or maybe he’d simply guessed that she would love the way he touched her breasts. Or maybe he was an expert at brainwashing? Maybe he’d somehow put a suggestion of her wanting him into her head? Why was she allowing this man to touch her like this? She should be fighting him, shouldn’t she?
She froze as his hands palmed her belly again.
“Now for your other half.” He spoke with such softness lacing his voice, she found herself lulled by him.
His hands moved to her waist and his fingers dipped beneath her skirt. She focused on the wetness between her thighs, mentally urging him to bring his hands there.
She held her breath as he tugged at her makeshift skirt. He moved his body away and his thick cock disappeared from her buttocks. Her skirt slipped over her hips, brushed past her knees and dropped around her ankles. Even if she wanted to run, how could she? Her skirt had effectively become a restraint.
Wow!
This guy knew exactly what he was doing.
Something heavy and hot bubbled deep inside her belly as his warm palms slid seductively over the curve of her hips.
Kinley breathed in as every callus on his fingertips traveled like a silk trail along her skin. When he smoothed his palms over her pelvic bones, tracing along where her thighs met her abdomen, erotic heat zipped through her body.
She swallowed, her heart pounding with anticipation and fear as his fingers curled across her mons. She tensed when he whispered in her right ear.
“Relax, enjoy. I told you I won’t hurt you. Not if you don’t want me to.”
Oh my!
Maybe he was some sort of sadist.
No, he was no sadist. He touched her too gently. Too tenderly to hurt.
He must mean pleasure-pain. Yes, he had to mean pleasure-pain. To tell the truth, she wasn’t sure whether or not she was into that. But he would most likely help her find out. That is, if she didn’t escape first. Not that escape was an option at the moment.
One hand dipped between her thighs. When his finger parted her labia and stroked her clit, she moaned softly at the wicked tremors pulsing deep inside her pussy.