No…
No…
No!
My heart fluttered, like a bird trapped inside my empty chest. Betrayal surged inside me, fluttering, racing. That surge of desire coaxed me to abandon everything I’d fought for and loved.
Monster.
I needed to remember his name. His true name. This…this—I searched those stony eyes, watching his amused mouth quirk at the corner—this wasn’t him. Not the real him. This man was a murderer, a rapist. Jesus, he’d raped me, hadn’t he? He’d raped me before and again now. My pussy clenched, the throb in my clit ticking like a bomb inside me.
I was going to kill him.
I knew that.
I was going to put a bullet through his brain for all the things he’d done. For the Daughters.
He sucked in a hard breath and looked down at his come-drenched fingers. Ones he’d thrust inside me seconds ago. My body shivered as though I was sick.
“You will not shower,” he said, pushing his fingers back inside me.
My pussy clenched.
“You will wear the clothes I instruct.”
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
My pulse raced as he withdrew his fingers.
“I see you so much as hide a single fucking hair from me, Helene, and so help me God, I will fuck you raw.”
He pushed backwards, slowly climbing from the bed, and I had no choice but to watch him. Because he would. He would keep good on his promise. Taut muscles stretched as he adjusted his shirt, corded and well-used now that he’d taken out his anger on my body.
Stupid…
STUPID.
I flinched, hating the roar in my head. I’d thought I knew this guy. I’d had him all figured out. He stepped backwards, tugged up his zipper, and buttoned his slacks before he bent down to snag something from the floor. But had I? Had I really figured this guy out? The thunder in my chest said otherwise.
Chills raced and my pulse suddenly slowed.
No, that tiny voice whispered inside my head. I hadn’t figured him out at all. Because if I had, I’d never have stepped in front of his goddamn car. I would never have allowed this.
He tossed the rose-gold-colored bodysuit my way and moved closer. One twist of the key and my wrist fell to the bed before he looked down at me. “Give me a reason to punish you, Helene Montgomery, please.”
I stared down at the thing he expected me to wear, then met his stare. Hard breaths punched into my lungs. I opened my mouth…the words screaming in the back of my throat FUCK YOU!
But I didn’t say them.
I didn’t dare say them.
One look down to the t-shirt that hugged his stomach and the hard ridge of his still semi-hard cock and I knew he wasn’t done with me…not in the slightest. That ravenous hunger still glinted in his eyes.
He looked down at the bodysuit, the command clear as fucking day.
I hated him.
I snatched up the thing he’d chosen for me to wear. There wasn’t anything there, just thin goddamn straps crossing a sheer, soft chemise front and cups. It’d show everything, every scar, every dimple. I jerked my gaze upward and bared my teeth, hoping like hell he saw his death over and over in my eyes.
Those lips quirked higher. “Well?” he prodded. “I’m waiting.”
With a snarl, I yanked the thing over my feet and slid the satin up my thighs. Christ, this was beautiful. I wanted to ruin it because of him, but as I adjusted it on my hips, I became attached to it.
I’d never wear something like this.
Not something so revealing.
Or expensive, for that matter.
Not even with my father’s money.
No, that was used to buy guns and mercenaries and anything else we needed to find my sisters and keep them safe. There was no room for anything else. No room for beautiful things…no room for me. Only what I had to do to survive and for my blood.
I swallowed hard as I slid the straps along my arms to my shoulders and adjusted the cups of the bra. My nipples rubbed the soft fabric, which only made them harder. He looked. Of course he looked. Those ravenous eyes missed nothing where my body was concerned, and that’s how I needed it to stay.
But the moment the bodysuit was in place, he stepped away and headed around the bed to pick up the bags of clothes he’d brought with him. I sat at the top of the bed, watching him as he pulled the clothes out one by one, removed the tags, and walked toward the closet.
Fear cut through me the moment he turned on the light. What the fuck was he doing? I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak as he returned, grabbed more clothes, and headed back to where he was placing them on the hangers…right next to his.
Must be serious if he makes space in his closet for you.
I shook my head as he walked back out, only this time meeting my gaze.
But I couldn’t speak. Because, what if he hadn’t thought of the implications?
“If you make a list of the bathroom items you like, I’ll have those delivered.”
He was moving me in? “I’d rather choke.”
He closed the distance instantly, stopping to brace one hand on the headboard and lean down. “And I’d rather choke you, Helene…with my cock. But for now, I’ll take the goddamn list.”
My body trembled, then ached. I winced and glanced behind him, desperate to get away. “I need to pee.”
He straightened. “By all means.”
I didn’t care anymore, scooting my ass forward to push past and made for the toilet. It’d been hours since he’d left me and right now my bladder was screaming. Movement came from the corner of my eye. The moment I stepped into the bathroom, he followed, causing me to spin around. “I’m just peeing, for Christ’s sake.”
He glanced at the toilet. “Then pee.”
I sopped, glaring at him, then thought about the logistics and looked down to the sheer fabric of the bodysuit. I’d never worn something like this, never had to worry about how this happened.
“Pull it aside,” he murmured.
The heat of his stare was like a brand on my skin. Still, I had no other choice as my bladder sent out a spear of agony. I winced, reached down, and yanked the fabric of the crotch aside before I sat. Heat flooded from me and the bastard never moved. I kept the fabric out of the way and turned for the toilet paper…but I only had one damn hand.
Fuck.
“Here.” He stepped closer and folded the tissue before tugging it free. “Let me.”
“What?” I jerked my gaze upward.
But he was already kneeling to reach between my body and the seat to wipe along my crease. Those sickening fucking fingers were so firm and tender, making my body clench and heat. I looked away as humiliation crawled into my cheeks.
“There.” He rose carefully and moved to the sink to hit the faucet, then the soap. “I’ll meet you out in the kitchen.”
I eased the fabric back and slowly rose as he walked out. So that was it? Not that he didn’t trust me. He just wanted to…humiliate me.
A nerve twitched at the corner of my cheek as I turned and pressed the button to flush the toilet, then moved to the sink. That was it. I met my gaze. He not only liked to control, he liked to humiliate, as well, make me uncomfortable, make me beg.
I swallowed hard as a surge of excitement hummed deep inside me when I lowered my gaze to the bodysuit he’d made me wear. Rose gold…it looked almost nice against my naturally tanned skin, until I turned and the ugly silver scars were revealed. I turned back and grabbed his hairbrush, dragging it through my hair.
I’d been through an accident, a drugging, a chase, murders…and him.
I looked like a damn mess.
The more I brushed, the softer my hair became, until it shone, letting me make my way out of the bedroom, deciding to obey him and head to the kitchen.
Is Nutella vegan?
The words rose in my mind as the clatter of a pan came through the air. I stopped at the end of the hallway, watching him as he swirled hot butter in the frying pan. I glanced at the freshly open tub of vegan butter. I didn’t like this. Not that he’d made room in his fucking closet for the clothes he’d bought me or the fact he was standing there, cooking me…oat-flour pancakes?
I said nothing, just watched him while my mind raced. I needed to push this along, find out what he knows about Hale, find out what he knows about everything. I took a step closer, nearing the other side of the breakfast bar. “Seeing as how we’re getting comfortable, Riven, you never told me what you actually do for a living.”
He stilled for a second, then kept going, ladling the oat batter into the pan. “You could say I’m in acquisitions.”
“For a bank?”
He didn’t answer, just focused on making sure the heat was even as the mixture sizzled, filling the house with the most delicious smell.
“Well, it certainly looks like you’ve done well for yourself.”
He turned, carrying the pan over to slide a delicious looking golden pancake onto a plate in front of me. “Better than an elementary school teacher.”
I flinched at the words. He’d threatened to kill someone, someone that didn’t really exist. I didn’t know if he’d used it to manipulate me or if he’d really killed a complete stranger. I tried to find the answer in his stare. A shiver tore through me. Icy and honed. My pulse sped in response.
I was never scared. Not when the repercussions were only mine. But here, standing in front of him…meeting that unfathomable stare, I was fucking terrified. He was a monster. I knew that. A predator in every sense of the word.
I might’ve been the one who’d stepped out in front of his car. But every action and every consequence that came after that moment had been under his controlling hand. Riven Cruz wasn’t just a monster, he was a predator, and to catch someone like that, you couldn’t remain prey. You had to be his equal.
“You’re lying.”
He stilled, then turned.
I met that dark stare.
“This isn’t acquisitions.” I looked around at the sheer opulence of the place. Wood, glass, steel, and the faint trickling of running water from the internal rainforest.
He rounded the end of the counter, sliding a plate in front of me. One, perfectly golden brown pancake took up the entire surface. He said nothing, just pushed a freshly opened tub of vegan butter toward me, then a bottle of expensive maple syrup. “I guess it depends on what you’re acquiring.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks as his stare nailed me to the spot.
Women.
That’s what he acquired.
I needed to remember that.
That same sickening wash of rage rose inside me. My jaw tightened. I glanced at a small knife sitting near the stove. One he’d used to slice the butter and place it into the pan. I clenched my teeth, imaging all the things I could do with that knife…and there were plenty. A flicker of confusion filled his stare, a tiny furrow between his eyes. He saw…He saw. His lips parted and his mouth opened to speak.
Until the sudden vibration of his phone shattered the moment.
He turned away and snatched the thing up, staring at the screen. But he didn’t answer, just turned and looked at me over his shoulder. That scowl deepened before he strode away.
He lifted the cell to his ear. “Yes.”
I pulled the plate closer and spread butter across the top before grabbing the syrup, all the while trying to listen in. But the conversation was all one-sided. He barely spoke, gave nothing away.
“Everything is fine. I’ll contact you when I know more.”
I jerked my gaze away as he ended the call and stabbed the fluffy stack instead, carving into it with the knife. Heavy footsteps sounded as I shoveled it into my mouth.
“What did you say you did for work, Helene?”
I turned my head, chewing loudly and with my mouth open, both things I knew would piss him off. “I didn’t.”
He held my stare.
Had he already searched my details? I’d be surprised if he hadn’t, not with the whole captor/women trafficking vibe he had going on. I also knew exactly what he’d find when he punched my details into the system.
Helene Montgomery.
26 years old.
Worked as a hairdresser for 2 years.
Then went into retail at Walters & Co as a fashion buyer.
Moderate salary.
Saving to buy her own house.
No pets.
No family.
Both parents deceased.
Single child.
No priors apart from a few outstanding parking fines.
No…nothing.
A whole lot of nothing.
Social media accounts go back five years.
Five lonely years.
That’s how long I’d been planning this exact moment, the second I came face to face with those who controlled, manipulated, and hunted my blood. Five years as Helene Montgomery. Five years of him finally understanding who he was up against.
No one came after my family.
Not if they wanted to live.
“How are they?” he asked carefully as he glanced at my half-finished plate.
“A little dry, actually.”
A nerve twitched in the corner of his eye. It took all my strength not to burst out laughing. If it had been anyone else, I might’ve. But Riven wasn’t anyone else. Instead, I swallowed, making sure to really gulp that mouthful down and pretend to cough…just for emphasis.
Any other man might’ve turned and walked away.
But Riven wasn’t just any man, was he?
He stayed put as I grabbed my orange juice, but then he grabbed my wrist and whispered in my ear. “The living room…now.”
I stayed there, my gaze fixed on the counter as he straightened and strode away.
Fuck you!
I jerked my gaze after him. I HATE YOU! My breaths came hard and fast, so fast the kitchen brightened and blurred. I tried to slow down, tried to keep control of the situation, one where I needed to allow him to call all the shots.
Just until I get to Hale.
I closed my mouth, inhaling deeply before I dared follow him. The room sharpened again as my bare feet softly padded on the tiled floor. I’d barely glanced at this place last night as he’d carried me inside. But now that I wasn’t kicking and screaming and hating myself for allowing the asshole to live, I saw just how stunning this place was.
It wasn’t a house.
It was an oasis.
“You will kneel.”
I jerked my head to where he sat on the plush black leather sofa. The bastard even had his legs crossed, one arm casually lying across the back as he watched me like a damn hawk. A rush flowed through me and a lightheaded, tingling sensation followed.
He lowered his gaze, taking in the barely there fucking thing he’d demanded I wear. Those hateful eyes glittered as he ordered again. “Kneel.”
“Don’t you mean heel? I’m not a fucking dog.”
He met my rage. “No, you’re my property.”
My mouth twitched. I wanted to say a lot more. Just think about Ryth. Think about Viv…think about the babies.
I slowly sank, resting on my heels.
“Good. Now spread your legs.”
Motherfucker—
I did, inching my knees apart.
“Wider.”
That twitch came again. Heavy breaths followed as I pushed. He didn’t even look down. No, the hatred in my stare riveted him. Was he goading me? Pushing me until I cracked, until I said or did something that would give him leverage? I pushed my shoulders back and straightened my spine. Maybe I might make him crack instead?
I opened my knees, pushing them as wide as I could. How’s that you…you…fucking gorgeous piece of shit? I lowered my hand, slipped my finger underneath the lace cup of the bra, and eased it aside.
Anyone else might think he was unmoved. But not me. I saw all the signs. The way his eyes seemed to seize mine, as though he was desperate to look anywhere else and the deepening of his breath.
I was under his skin.
His throat muscles worked as he swallowed…then finally gave in.
I lowered my hand, dropping it to my thigh. “I think these are a little too tight, don’t you?” I dug under the folded satin bands that dug into the flesh of my hips.
“No.” His voice was throaty. “I think…” He met my gaze. “I know it’s the perfect fit.”
“Oh, yeah?” I whispered, almost daring him. “How about here?”
I tugged the elastic at the side of my pussy. Pull them aside. His command from moments ago in the bathroom filled my head. He liked to see….so I’d let him see. I slid my fingers in, finding my tender clit. Soft, swollen. Sensitive. My breath deepened. It wouldn’t take long. A few strokes, a couple of—
He moved fast, launching from the sofa to grab me around the shoulders and drive me backwards. My ass hit the floor, but he held the rest of me suspended.
“No,” he snapped, his eyes blazing. “Only my fingers belong there. Do you understand me? My fucking fingers.”
Anger flared. I was close to coming.
Close to getting exactly what I wanted.
And he saw it.
His lips quirked. “Are you feeling desperate and horny and pissed off?
I curled my lips.
“Good,” I bastard answered. “Now you know how I feel every time I look at you.”
My pussy throbbed all on its own.
No.
No.
This wasn’t happening.
He eased me back, then straightened. The bulge in his pants was right in my direct line of sight.
Oh, God.
“I want to fuck you. I want to lick you. I want to fill you with me over and over and over again until your belly grows with life. How do you feel about that, Helene?”
I lifted my gaze. “Good luck with that, motherfucker. I can’t have children.”
“Can’t?” He grabbed my arm and dragged me upwards until I met his stare. “Then I guess I’ll have to find that out on my own, shall I?”
One hard push and I stumbled backwards…toward the bedroom.
