Her Beast_A Dark Romance Page 10

  “Good evening, Derek,” one of Marcos’ patrons greeted me and I shook his hand, keeping my body loose, feigning an ease I didn’t feel.

  “Hello, Vincent. Are you enjoying yourself this evening?”

  “I was until I saw this beauty,” He motioned to Scarlett and then leaned into stroke her back and along the curve of her ass. One more second, and I feared I wasn’t going to be able to stop myself from breaking the man’s hand. Fortunately, he had the sense to remove the offending hand before I had the chance.

  “She really is something. I’d like to have her for a while,” he said, fully expecting me to hand her over.

  It was going to seem strange when I didn’t, but Vincent wasn’t interested in just touching the merchandise. He had an anal fetish, and he preferred the slaves dry so he could make them bleed. And there was no fucking way I was letting him do that to her. If anyone got to fuck her tight, little ass hole, it was going to be me. And I had no interest in making her bleed. Scream—yes, in pleasure, not the kind of pain Vincent liked to subject the slaves too.

  “I’m afraid Scarlett isn’t available this evening, but Marcos always has an abundance of slaves who would be happy to accommodate you.”

  He looked displeased, irritated over being deprived of what he wanted, and his hand returned to her ass, skimming between her cheeks this time, no doubt seeking out the hole he’d been planning to use.

  It was either time to leave or kill him. And I could tell by the way Scar’s body had stiffened, I had seconds to go out of there or else I might as well kill him. It would draw no less attention than the scene she was about to cause.

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll let Marcos know you’ve reserved her,” I said and then yanked on her chain and walked away without giving Vincent a chance to reply.

  She followed eagerly, but I could feel the tension in her and the tiny sniffling noises she made that meant she was trying desperately to hold back tears. Just one more minute—assuming we didn’t run into anyone else.

  I actually breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the door to the yard. It was less conspicuous than going out the front door. It wasn’t uncommon for some of the patrons to take the slaves out in the yard to make them defecate on the lawn. Where that got fun, I had no idea, but then again, one might say my fetishes wandered outside the realm of normal, too.

  Once outside, I was pleased to find there was no one else around. I led her around the yard to the garage, used my key to get in, and then hurried her over to my car. I opened the trunk and then helped her to her feet. She looked at the open trunk warily.

  “No one can see me leaving with you. Once we’re past the guards, I’ll let you out.”

  She nodded and even went climbing in, but the movement tugged on the chains between her clamps. She froze and squealed in response, making my cock jerk in my pants.

  I leaned down to release the clamp on her clit and couldn’t help but watch the expression on her face as blood rushed back into the sensitive nub all at once. And I also couldn’t resist the urge to rub her, just for a minute, just until her hips started to writhe and a tiny moan escaped her lips.

  I released her then and helped her to climb in the trunk, though I left the nipple clamps on her—because that was just the kind of twisted man I was. Besides, they looked so fucking sexy on her. What guy would have been quick to take them off?

  I closed the trunk after one last look and then slid behind the wheel. I made it past the guards without a hitch and drove for a few miles just to be safe. When I pulled over on the side of the road and opened the trunk to let her out, I’d expected to find she’d taken the clamps off on her own.

  She hadn’t.

  I swallowed hard and helped her out. I took the clamps off then, but as I released one and then the other, I sucked her nipple into my mouth, feeling the arousal coursing through her body in response to both sensations.

  As tempted as I was to linger, we were nowhere near out of the woods yet. I grabbed the spare shirt I kept in the trunk and handed it to her. She clasped it awkwardly but made no move to put it on. I’d kept her naked for so long, apparently, she didn’t quite believe I was telling her to cover up now. It really was a shame to cover up that body—and if we ended up getting pulled over, no doubt that body could get us out of any speeding ticket. Still, I didn’t relish the idea of sharing it—even the sight of her sexy curves—with anyone.

  So, I took the shirt from her and held it out, nodding for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. She remained still while I fastened the buttons. I was already anxiously awaiting the moment I could rip the shirt off her.

  But then it hit me. There was no moment. If I went through with my plan—which I had every intention of doing—the glimpse I’d gotten of her before I’d buttoned up the shirt was the last glimpse I was going to get. When we got where we were going, I’d be leaving her there. Alone. And I wasn’t going to see her, or her hot body, ever again.

  Damn, I really didn’t care for the strange way the thought made my chest ache and my eyes sting. It was unfamiliar and unwelcome.

  And I had a job to do. That’s what this was now. Not the job I was used to, but a job nonetheless. I was going to make sure she was safe. It was all that mattered. Somehow, at some point, making sure no one could ever hurt her again—the way both her father and I had—it became the most important thing in the world. All I had to do was get her to where we were going and leave her there. Just walk away. It was easy.

  So why the hell did it feel like the hardest thing I’d ever done?

  8

  Scarlett

  We drove for several hours—four hours, which I could tell because there was a clock. A real clock. The first one I’d seen since he’d taken me. But I had no idea where we were going, or how much longer it would be before we got there.

  Derek had been quiet the whole time. And I hadn’t tried to engage him in conversation. What was I supposed to say? So much had happened since he’d walked into my prison and found that man whipping me. That man…my father. My real father. And now he was dead. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel about that.

  I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel about anything—least of all the man sitting next to me, driving me further and further away from my prison. Why was he doing it? Why had he done any of it?

  I wanted to blame it on his temper—that was the reason he’d taken hold of the man and snapped the life right out of him. But I’d made Derek mad countless times, and not once had it seemed like he’d responded in anger. He’d hurt me, yes, but it had always seemed like he’d done it with a completely level head. I wasn’t sure that made it better, but it did tell me he didn’t act on impulse, not that kind.

  And so as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew he’d done it for me. He’d killed a man…for me. I didn’t know how to feel about that either. People seldom did anything for me, never mind taking a person’s life to keep me safe!

  And then he’d helped me escape—at least, I thought that was what he was doing. It hadn’t felt like much on an escape when he’d trussed me up in collar and clamps and paraded me through that wretched house. When that man had approached us, when he’d touched me where nobody but Derek ever had, it had taken everything I’d had to keep from lunging at him with teeth and claws drawn.

  But Derek said he would keep me safe. He wouldn’t let any of them hurt me. And he’d kept his promise. Though my skin crawled to think about that man’s hands on me, he hadn’t hurt me, and Derek had hurried us out of there before he could. Though I wondered if it was more for his benefit than mine. The rage that had coursed through him when the man touched me had been palpable in the air.

  I should care. I was still painfully aware that this was insane. But it had sent an odd thrill through me to see him responding so possessively. I was his. Only his. That man had no business touching me because I belonged to Derek. And God help me, that was exactly what I wanted.

  And it was beginning to seem like he wanted
it too. Why else would he have done all that he did? Why else would he have taken me away from there when just hours before he’d been determined to sell me?

  The same thrill that coursed through me earlier, pulsed through my veins now. He wasn’t going to sell me. He was going to keep me. I would be his, and maybe the emotion I’d seen in him when the man who was my father had been hurting me would grow. And then I would be more than just a possession to him. I would be a woman. His woman.

  My stomach growled, not for the first time in the past hour. But I kept my mouth shut. Derek had been the one to feed me, to bring my meals regularly. He must know I was hungry. If he wasn’t stopping to feed me, then there had to be a good reason for it.

  So, I wasn’t surprised when we pulled off the highway a short while later and he pulled up to a motel with an all-night diner out in front of it.

  “Stay here,” he said, and he eyed me for a moment.

  “I won’t leave. I promise,” I said, and I meant it. I didn’t want to leave. I never wanted to leave him.

  And I must have been convincing because he nodded and hopped out, striding across the lot to the motel office. I watched the door once he’d gone inside, waiting for him to return.

  I’d expected him to go to the diner, not the motel. Were we stopping for the night then? I suppose it made sense. He’d somehow become something more than human in my head, but he was human—flawed and beautiful—and probably tired.

  I watched him walk toward me a few moments later, and like before, he struck me as some graceful predator. But this time, though my breath came quicker and my heart sped up, it wasn’t fear I felt as he came closer.

  He opened the door to my side. “Come on, Pet,” he said as he extended his hand. I took it, thinking that no one had ever opened a car door for me before. It was strange how special such a simple gesture could make a person feel.

  Once out though, I was immediately aware of my state of dress. The shirt came down to cover the tops of my thighs, but little more. It had been fine in the car, with only Derek to see me. Now though, with people coming and going, it was uncomfortable. But he kept my hand in his and pulled me along with him to a motel room ten yards from the car. It was the first time he’d let me walk beside him. It felt…human—a man and a woman, holding hands and walking toward a motel room.

  That thought made my step stutter. There was a very well known reason for a couple to get a motel room in the middle of the night. Is that what we were going to do?

  Tremors of fear and excitement shot through me together, but the excitement, the anticipation, quickly outdid the fear. Heat settled low in my abdomen and set my nether region on fire.

  Once inside the room, he released my hand and I dropped to my knees—because that was what he’d expect from me, wasn’t it?

  “No, Pet. Stand up,” he said, not unkindly.

  Apparently, that hadn’t been what he wanted, but then, I was at a complete loss as to what to do. I got up and stood there awkwardly. I wanted to touch him. I wanted him to know I wasn’t going to fight him on this. That I wanted this. But before I could work up the nerve, he spoke.

  “I’m going to get food. Don’t leave the room.”

  I nodded right away and he didn’t eye me this time. He turned the door handle and strode out. But what was I supposed to do? I thought ahead to what was coming…I’d shower quickly—that’s what I would do.

  I hopped in fast, wanting to be out long before he returned. And I scrubbed my body quickly. But when my hands scrubbed over the welts on my back, they flared to life. I sucked in my breath, but kept going, listening for the door.

  I was out before he returned, so I dried in a hurry, moving gingerly over my back. It was too late though. Whether it had been my hands, or the water had washed away the cream that had been taking out the sting, I didn’t know, but they hurt now and it irritated me. I didn’t want to be distracted, not by the wounds that man had left on my body.

  Trying my best to block it out, I returned to the main room. Since he still hadn’t returned, I sank to my knees to wait for him, but I squeezed my thighs tight like I’d learned to do before to keep my heels from digging into the angry welts.

  Moments passed, but I wasn’t concerned. My master…Derek wouldn’t leave me here.

  My thighs started to ache, but when I sank down lower onto my heels, I shot right back up. The ache wasn’t nearly as bad as the welts.

  He returned then, but he stopped when he saw me. There was a fire in his eyes and it rekindled the fire inside me, but there was something else, too. Frustration? Disappointment? What had I done? Thinking that my awkward position was the only possibility, I sank down onto my heels, biting my lip against the gasp that tried to rush out.

  He placed the bag and tray he’d brought back with him on the bed and came to stand in front of me. He brushed my cheek like I’d grown accustomed to him doing, and I nestled against his hand. Still, something wasn’t right.

  “Stand up, Pet. You don’t have to kneel anymore.”

  Why not? What was going on? I stood though, breathing a brief sigh of relief when my heels were no longer digging into the welts.

  “I’ve gotten you enough food to last you until morning,” he said, “And I’m going to leave you with enough money to take the train that leaves here at eleven-o-clock tomorrow morning. When you arrive at your destination, there will be a P.O. box with documents you’ll need. I’ll have them sent there before you arrive. You’ll have a new ID. I’m sorry, but your last name will be different. You won’t be able to use ‘Donovan’ anymore. Once you have the documents, you’ll find a bank account in your new name. There will be more than enough money to get you started.”

  He’d lost me at the word ‘leave’. He was leaving? No. I didn’t want him to leave. “What?” was all I could manage to get out as the world began to spin.

  “Scar, it’s OK. There will be nobody to hurt your anymore…I won’t be there to hurt you,” he said.

  “No, please, M-Master. I’ll be good. Don’t go,” I cried when what he’d said had begun to sink in.

  “You don’t really want that. I’ve trained you to think that’s what you want, but it isn’t. Soon, you’ll see that,” he said, brushing away a tear that trickled down my cheek.

  He turned away fast, and I realized he wasn’t just leaving. He was leaving now.

  “No!” I cried and lunged for him before he’d even taken a step.

  My naked body, pressed against his, was having an effect. I could feel it in him. So, I held on tight, pressing my body intimately against his.

  “I don’t want you to go. I’m not crazy. And I’m not brainwashed. I can’t explain why or how it happened. And I know I should feel this way, but I do.” I loosened my grip enough to move around until I was standing in front of him. “I want you, Master, in…in all the ways a woman can want a man.”

  “Oh fuck, Scar,” he cursed, but then his lips were hard against mine and his arms were around me.

  He pulled me closer, but as his hands dug into my back, I couldn’t stop the cry that slipped out. He froze, and then he dropped his hands. No. No.

  But instead of leaving, he pulled out the cream he’d apparently tucked into his pocket.

  “Lay down, Pet,” he said, and I immediately complied.

  Like before, the cream stung at first, but then, as his hands continued to work it into my flesh, the pain began to fade. He kept it up, rubbing in small circles from my backside to the middle of my back, and different sensations rippled through my body. For the first time, I had no desire to resist. I sighed and a tiny moan escaped my lips when his fingers kneaded my cheeks. It felt so good like he knew the perfect combination to soothe and arouse at the same time.

  His hands started to branch out further, down the backs of my thighs and up to my shoulders. Without being told to do it, I rolled over, and I boldly pulled his hands back when he went to drop them by his side. I placed them on my breasts and thrust my chest harder agains
t his hands.

  He didn’t move at first, and I thought there might be no way to persuade him, but then he yanked one hand out of my grasp and caught both my wrists in his. And then he yanked my arms over my head, pinned against the mattress. His other hand palmed my breast, kneading, and then teasing my nipple before moving onto the other. He kept me pinned there while he lowered his mouth to one nipple. I moaned as he sucked it into his mouth, and then I squealed when his teeth bit into me, that exquisite combination of pain and pleasure that drove me wild.

  “You don’t understand what you’re asking, Pet,” he said when he’d released my nipple, leaving it bereft of sensation until his fingers took over. “What I am, what I want, what I like to do to you…that hasn’t changed,” he said, and a blaze of heat shot through me, thinking of the things I knew he liked to do to me.

  He must have seen the heat because he cringed and he let out a long breath. “Fuck, Scar, you’ve got to stop,” he said between gritted teeth.

  “I-I didn’t do anything,” I said, but I didn’t bother resisting the urge to press my breast against his hand. It was intoxicating to see the way he was responding to me.

  Something changed in him, and his resistance gave way. All of a sudden, he wasn’t fighting me anymore.

  But that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for me.

  “Open your legs and tell me you want me to touch you,” he demanded.

  I parted my legs easily, but the words hovered on my lips while my cheeks flamed. “Please touch me,” I said finally.

  He grinned slyly. “Where, Pet? Where do you want me to touch you?”

  My flesh tingled in anticipation and that seemed enough to make me bolder. “I want you to touch my pussy. I want to feel your fingers on me.”

  His hand slipped between my parted thighs and his fingers glided across my wet lips. I was so primed, so on fire, that the glide made my whole body jerk. He kept it up, lightly, teasing. He was trying to drive me insane!