Hold (9 page)

But she could hardly recognize Cain at all in the snarling, primitive beast he seemed to have transformed into.

She managed to pull up her pants before she stepped, shaking, out of the cell and huddled by the wall as she watched.

Asp wasn’t a weakling. He was big and violent and he knew what he was doing.

But he didn’t have a chance against Cain.

Cain had worked himself up into a frenzy. Riana had never seem him—seen anyone—look like that before. He pounded the other man into the ground, never pausing or giving respite for a moment. Soon there was blood. And then the other man stopped putting up a fight.

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But Cain didn’t stop his brutal attack until Asp lay in a mass of bloody pulp on the ground.

Riana knew without doubt he was dead.

And she wasn’t even sorry. Part of her was shocked and nauseating by the sudden, violent turn of events over the last few minutes. But part of her—a tiny, instinctive part she didn’t like to acknowledge—thrilled to see Cain react so primally, so territorially, so animalistically.

Over her.

Mostly, though, she was dizzy and dazed—too much having happened for her to keep up.

So when Cain dropped the other man to the ground and stood up with his hands, arms and shirt bloodied and his skin soaked with grimy perspiration, she still couldn’t bring herself to move.

Cain looked around the Hold. The whole place had grown silent as everyone had moved to watch the violent altercation. Cain’s expression seemed to dare anyone else to challenge him.

Or to lay a hand on what was his.

No one moved. No one dared to approach.

Until Cain finally stalked away from his kill.

When he reached Riana, he took her by the back of her torn shirt and used his grip to guide her back to their cell.

His touch wasn’t gentle and it smeared blood on her shirt, but she appreciated the support since she wasn’t sure she would have been able to walk otherwise.

When they reached the cell and Cain locked the door behind them, Riana crumpled onto the bed, hugging her arms to her stomach.

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Cain stared down at her for a moment. Then he made a guttural sound and jerked away. He strode to the sink and turned the water on. He splashed water on his bloody hands and sweaty face.

Water streaming down his skin, he turned back toward her. “Did he—”

“No,” she gasped, the first word she’d been able to utter since the attack. “You got there in time.”

His face twisted strangely and he turned back to the sink. Leaned down to splash more water on his face.

He turned back toward her—still looking feral and powerful in his tension and bloody shirt—and opened his mouth again. But this time he didn’t speak. Instead, he turned on his heel with a jerk and made a move like he was going to leave the cell.

But he stopped himself. And instead he moved back to here she was huddled on the bed.

But he stopped himself again.

Riana had no idea what was happening but she could sense Cain’s mood.

Adrenaline and testosterone must be coursing through him. He was still on the violent high. Plus he might be concerned about her.

And he had no idea how to channel his primitive response.

He splashed more water on his face. Then he made another guttural sound and paced into the bathroom nook.

Growing concerned now, Riana stood up and met him as he turned back around and walked out.

“Cain, are you all right?” she asked softly, stretching out a gentle hand toward his stained shirt.

She was engulfed by the oddest feeling. Her own fear and nausea had dissipated in the security of the cell. And in its wake was a primal urge that matched his.

She felt all physicality and instinct. Like an animal.

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An animal that had just been claimed by its mate.

At her soft touch, Cain’s battered control broke completely. And, as if he’d read her mind, he growled softly and grabbed her by the hips.

He pushed her back against the wall of the cell and claimed her mouth in a hard, rough, urgent kiss.

It was the first time he’d ever kissed her, and Riana responded to it immediately.

She still wasn’t thinking rationally, but the horror of the minutes before was mostly gone—with only animal instinct remaining.

She wanted Cain. She wanted his strength and his power and the dominance. She needed to feel all of those things in the most physical way she could.

His body pressed into hers, trapping her against the hard wall. His hands were all over her—feeling her, touching her, stroking her—until he’d pulled off her pants and panties in their haze of frantic need.

With powerful hands, Cain lifted her up then, using the wall for support as he held her bare bottom. She wrapped her legs around his middle and clung to his neck. He was strong enough to hold her easily and she loved how small and feminine she felt against him.

He didn’t waste any time. As soon as he’d fumbled between their bodies to free his cock, he sank into her. She wasn’t as wet as she usually was—the panic earlier was still having an effect on her body—but she wanted him. Needed him. Desperately.

His cock filled her completely and he pitched his hips forward, pushing into her, pushing her hard against the wall.

It wasn’t entirely comfortable and Riana was conscious of sore places on her body where there would be bruises from the earlier attack, but she didn’t care. She wanted to feel Cain’s strength as deeply as she could.

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He didn’t have much control. His thrusts were hard and erratic and his mouth on hers was clumsy and ravenous. But it was exactly what Riana needed. And she whimpered in pleasure as he rutted, as he took her hard, as he claimed her as his.

She clawed eager lines down the back of his neck as he grunted roughly and rocked his pelvis into hers.

She wasn’t going to come. She hadn’t had enough clitoral stimulation and the earlier episode kept her from concentrating enough to reach orgasm.

But she didn’t care.

Feeling Cain this way, watching him release all of his shuddering tension in her at last, holding on to his absolute strength and masculinity, was the hottest thing she’d ever known.

She squeezed her pussy around the penetration of his cock until he jerked his head to the side and held himself still. Then he made a sound like a muted roar and jerked his hips in fast, clumsy spasms until he released himself inside her.

They were both gasping desperately as Cain’s body started to relax at last.

Carefully, he pulled back from the wall, helped her untangle her legs and set her down on the floor.

Her knees buckled immediately, so he picked her up instead and carried her over to the bed.

She curled up in a ball, feeling oddly weak and uncertain now that the surge of adrenaline and emotion had passed.

She desperately wanted Cain to hold her but he didn’t get onto the bed with her.

Instead, he went over to the sink and picked up one of the threadbare towels. After dampening it with the water, he came back over and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

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When he’d gently uncurled her body, he removed the torn remnants of her shirt—

now stained with the blood from his chest—and then wiped off the smears of blood from her chest.

She watched him in astonishment, her lips slightly parted and her eyes wide and round. He didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he focused on his hand as he stroked the damp cloth over her breasts and belly and then down farther to her pussy—where he cleaned up his semen.

Riana had never seen him like this before. And the silent care made her belly knot with a nameless emotion she was too afraid to name.

“Thank you,” she said at last.

He jerked slightly, wincing as if she’d struck him.

“What’s wrong?” She put a hand on his arm, afraid he might pull back.

“Don’t—” He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Really confused now—and even more confused when she saw the twisting of regret on his face—she tightened her fingers on his forearm. “What are you sorry for?”

His pale blue eyes finally met hers. “For just now. I shouldn’t have…You were almost raped and I…I took you like that—without even letting you recover.”

“Oh.” Her heart hammered wildly, and her breath kept hitching in her throat. “But I…”

He was caught up in a guilt she’d never expected to see from him. “I don’t know what got into me.” He stared down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap. “I was like an…”

An animal. So was she.

“I didn’t even ask if you wanted it.” With a ragged breath, he shifted his eyes to meet hers again.

“I did want it,” she said, her voice breaking on the second word. “I did. I would have stopped you if I didn’t.”

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Cain stared at her for a long. “And you believe I would have stopped if you’d told me to.”

“Of course you would. You aren’t like them.” She made a weak gesture out to the Hold. “I know I said you were before. But you aren’t.”

He finally let out his breath and got up to put the towel in the sink.

Then, to her absolute relief, he came back over and lowered himself into bed beside her. He rolled over onto his side and spooned her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her, exactly as she wanted, needed him to.

Riana almost choked on emotion as she snuggled back against him—feeling safe and comforted despite the incongruous circumstances.

“Are you all right?” he muttered against her ear, his arms tightening around her middle as if he were unconsciously still trying to protect her.

“Yeah.” She adjusted one of his forearms so she could hug it to her chest. “I’m just now fully processing what might have happened. It all happened so quickly. I still can’t really believe it.”

He was silent, except for his warm, heavy breathing against her hair.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For stopping him.”

“I should have been there sooner. I was looking for you but couldn’t find you for a minute. I never should have turned my back on you out there.”

She could hear the lingering guilt in his voice and that sign of his humanity comforted her almost as much as his strong arms. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who walked away from you. I wasn’t thinking.”

He didn’t reply for a minute, just held her so close it was almost uncomfortable.

Finally, he asked, “Why didn’t you scream? Didn’t you think I would come for you?”

Riana sucked in a sharp breath at the implications. “I knew you would. I tried. I just… I just couldn’t get my throat to work.”

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As she remembered the horrifying experience, a shuddering sob escaped her throat.

“It was terrible.”

Cain made a rough, guttural sound—as if he were wordlessly objecting to her crying.

She shook helplessly for a minute. Not really weeping but finally releasing the emotional tension.

When she got herself under control again, she rasped, “I hate this place.”

Cain tightened his arms around her again and said against her hair, “I know.”

They lay in silence for a long time and Riana had no desire to leave the haven that his embrace provided her in this hell.

Eventually, she noticed a faint smear of blood on the bedding and it made her remember something else. Still hugging his forearm to her chest, she asked softly, “Are
you
all right?”

He tensed up slightly behind her. “What do you mean?”

It was a risk. This morning she never would have taken it. But she did now. She explained, “You killed a man just now.”

The pause was long and tense. But Cain finally answered in a thick voice. “I know. I don’t regret it.”

“Me either,” she admitted, although it was strangely hard for her to say. “But still. I thought maybe it might be…hard.”

She’d never killed anyone so she didn’t know how it would feel. For all she knew, Cain might have killed dozens of men. He might be a serial killer.

But she didn’t really think so. And she couldn’t help but wonder how he really felt about having beaten a man to death the way he had.

He didn’t reply for a really long time. Just kept holding her and breathing into her hair. He was silent for so long she assumed he wasn’t going to respond, and she didn’t blame him at all.

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But then finally he murmured, so low she could barely hear it, “I hate this place too.”

* * * * *

That evening after mealtime Cain worked on his device again. He wasn’t just tinkering now. He seemed driven, concentrating so hard on his work that he was barely conscious of her presence.

She wondered if he was close to finishing it.

She wondered what it was going to do.

She wondered if it would be what he wanted it to be—an escape out of this misery.

When he finally put down his tool and covered the device with the sheet again, his expression looked blank and unfocused.

She sat up in bed and hugged her arms to her chest. “Cain,” she began, her voice weak and shaky. “When you get out of here, when you escape, please don’t leave me behind.”

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Time passed strangely in the Hold.

Each day seemed to drag on forever but the string of days—one after the other, each exactly alike—seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye.

Riana sometimes had trouble keeping track of how long she’d been here. It felt like forever since she’d arrived. It seemed like she’d known Cain—been fucking him—all her life.

But each morning when she woke up, she tried to tick off the days on her mental calendar. Today she thought she’d been in prison for a little over two months.

Cain had been here a lot longer.

This morning, as soon as the lights came on, he got up as usual and headed for the bathroom. But instead of washing up and starting his exercise routine as usual, he crawled back into bed with her when he came out of the bathroom nook.