Claim Me(Capture Me: Book 3)(44)

In my longing for my captor’s love, I again built castles in the sand.

“I understand,” I manage to whisper through numb lips. “I’m sorry.”

Lucas releases me and steps back, his face still taut with anger, and I turn away, blindly reaching for some dishes to wash.

Our “honeymoon,” such as it was, is over.



* * *



That night, Lucas doesn’t come home until late, and Misha and I eat dinner by ourselves. I put on a happy mask for my brother, but I know he senses something off. It’s a relief to usher him out of the house with a batch of leftovers for the guards; more than anything, I want to be alone to lick my wounds.

I’m already finishing my shower when Lucas returns. He enters the bathroom just as I’m stepping out of the stall, and without saying a word, he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me to the bedroom. His face is hard, his gaze shuttered as he walks, and the old unease slithers through me. I don’t think he’ll truly hurt me—physically, at least—but that doesn’t lessen my anxiety. Lucas in this mood is unpredictable, and I’m barely keeping myself together as is. For a brief, insane moment, I consider fighting him, but instantly dismiss the idea. It’s not like I stand a chance of actually winning. Besides, what would be the point of trying to resist? Like he said, I’m his to do with as he wants.

My life—and my brother’s—is in his hands.

If I could cling to the numbness that encased me this afternoon, it would’ve been easier, but everything is sharp and bright in my mind, every sensation painfully vivid. I feel the heat of his skin through our clothes and the way his arm muscles flex as he places me on the bed; I see the pale glitter of his eyes and smell his warm male scent. He bends over me, and my body comes to life, a familiar heat brewing low in my stomach. My nipples peak, my breasts aching for his touch, and my sex grows slick as he kisses me, his tongue invading my mouth with rough, demanding strokes. His large hands catch my wrists, pinning them above my head, and I close my eyes, willingly sinking into the heated oblivion of lust. My hurt and anxiety dissipate, and animal instinct takes over. Moaning, I arch against Lucas, rubbing my hardened nipples against his T-shirt, and my insides clench as I feel the thick bulge in his jeans pressing against my naked hip.

Yes, take me, fuck me, make me forget… The erotic chant plays on a loop in my mind. For now, I don’t need to worry about the future, about my life with a man who views me as his exclusive toy. I don’t need to think about the fact that I may never be more than a vessel for his lust. I can just focus on his drugging kisses and the warm, heavy weight of his body on top of mine.

It’s only when he transfers my wrists into one of his hands and rummages in the bedside drawer with the other that I resurface enough to feel a flicker of unease. Opening my eyes, I tear my lips away from his. “Lucas, what are you—”

He cuts me off with another deep, devouring kiss, and in the next moment, I have my answer. A cold metal touches my left wrist, and then I hear a click as the handcuff locks in place. Gasping, I turn my head to the side and try to twist my other wrist out of his grasp, but Lucas uses my motion to turn me over onto my side and drag my handcuffed arm toward the metal pole he’d installed by the bed during the early days of my captivity. Straddling me, he loops the handcuff around the pole and grabs my other wrist, cuffing it before I can put up any real resistance.

My unease transforms into real fear. I’m lying on my side, naked and with my wrists handcuffed to the pole—just like old times.

“Why are you doing this?” My voice turns high and thin as I turn my head to gaze at Lucas, who’s now reaching for something else in the bedside drawer. “Lucas, don’t, please.” My hair is all over my face, interfering with my vision, and before I can shake it off, a soft dark cloth drops over my eyes.

“Shh,” Lucas whispers, tying it around my head. “You’re going to be fine, baby.”

Fine? He just handcuffed and blindfolded me. My pulse drums in my ears, my arousal dampened by panic. “Lucas, please… What are you going to do?”

Still straddling me, he leans down, and I feel his warm breath on the side of my face. “Do you love me?” he murmurs. His lips brush the rim of my ear, his tongue tracing over the outer edge. “Do you love me, Yulia?”

I swallow thickly. “Yes. You know I do.”

“Do you trust me?”

No. The truth almost slips out, but I clamp my lips shut just in time. I don’t trust Lucas—I never have—but I’m certainly not about to admit it at the moment. I don’t know the rules of this new game, and until I do, I’m not going to play along.

“I see,” he murmurs, and I realize that my non-answer was an answer in itself. My heart rate speeds up further.

“Lucas, I—”

“It’s okay.” He bites my earlobe gently. “You don’t have to lie.” He moves off me, and I hear the sounds of clothes being removed, followed by that of the nightstand drawer being pulled out. I listen, straining, but I don’t hear anything else, and a moment later, Lucas turns me so that I’m lying on my back, my handcuffed arms pulled to one side.

I’m about to ask again what he’s planning to do, but he’s already moving down my body and pushing my legs apart, his powerful hands pinning my thighs to the mattress.

The first touch of his tongue on my folds is startlingly soft, a caress rather than an assault. It both disorients and disarms me. I’d been prepared for something frightening and brutal, but the leisurely strokes of his tongue on my labia and at the rim of my opening are nothing of the sort. He licks me like he has all the time in the world, his lips and tongue toying with my sensitive flesh for what feels like hours before he gets anywhere near my pulsing clit. By then, I’m soaking wet and moaning his name, my hips moving uncontrollably as my arousal returns in full force. If it weren’t for his hands holding down my thighs, I would’ve ground my sex against his mouth, forcibly taking the orgasm that shimmers just beyond my reach.

“Please, Lucas,” I beg as his tongue circles my clit with maddeningly light strokes. “Just a little more, please…”

To my surprise, he obliges, latching on to my clit with a sucking pull that I feel all the way down to my toes. A choked cry escapes my throat as my inner muscles tighten, and then the orgasm washes over me, sweeping away everything but the devastating pleasure. I come so hard that I see flickers of light, my hips almost coming off the bed despite the restraining pressure of his hands. The pulsations continue for several long moments, and when it’s all over, I’m left lying there, boneless and panting, wrung out by the sensations.

I know Lucas is not done with me yet, but I’m still startled when he flips me over onto my stomach, making the handcuffs clang against the metal pole. My arms are now stretched to the opposite side, and for the first time, the scary versatility of this kind of restraint dawns on me.

Lucas can do anything he wants to me, in any position, and I can’t do anything to stop him.

He straddles my legs, immobilizing them against the bed, and fear prickles at me again, chasing away some of the post-orgasm endorphins. A second later, I feel something cool and wet trickle between my ass cheeks and realize my anxiety is justified.

Lucas poured some lube on me.

“Don’t, please.” I yank at the cuffs chaining me to the pole, my heartbeat skyrocketing. “Please… not like this.”

“It’s okay, beautiful.” Ignoring my attempts to wriggle away, Lucas stuffs two thick pillows under my hips, propping me up so I’m almost on all fours. “I told you, you’re going to be fine.”

But I won’t be. I know that from experience. He’ll tear me, his cock too long and thick for my body to accept that way. He’s played with my ass several times in recent weeks, using his fingers and a couple of small toys, but he’s never pushed beyond that and I’d foolishly begun to hope that he wouldn’t, that he’d respect my wishes in that regard. I should’ve known better, of course.

His lust knows no boundaries when it comes to me.

He leans over me, the heat of his body warming my chilled skin, and I realize I’m trembling, my back covered with a layer of cold sweat. His hand strokes the side of my hip, and I flinch before I can control my reaction, my muscles locking tight in anticipation of the pain to come.

“Yulia…” He gathers my hair to the side, moving it off my sweat-dampened back, and I feel his lips brush over my nape at the same time as his stiff cock presses against my leg. “I won’t hurt you, baby, I promise.”

Not hurt me? I want to scream that it’s a lie, that he wouldn’t restrain and blindfold me if he intended to make love to me sweetly, but I don’t get a chance because at that moment, Lucas’s fingers slip between my legs and find my clit. Pressing on it gently, he kisses my neck again, and to my shock, I feel a twinge of something that’s not fear… a hot, tight pleasure that somehow coexists with my panic.

“I won’t hurt you,” he repeats, his words whisper soft as his lips trail over my shoulder, and some of my anxiety ebbs, melting away in the heat that’s starting to pulse through me. By now, Lucas knows everything about my body, and he uses that knowledge without qualms, his fingers teasing out sensations that should’ve been beyond my reach.