Page 20 of Speechless
Ending her would be a pleasure beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He’d draw out her final moments until agony was her entire world. Raping her, sodomizing her, would become an exercise in stamina and exquisite control. Not just once, no. He’d give himself an encore, treat himself to the music of her despair over and over.
Perhaps he would immortalize her destruction on tape. Record every moment of her humiliation and degradation, capture every nuance of pain and terror on her perfect face.
A face he would erase once he’d squeezed the last squeak of breath from her lungs. She would be his example…yes, he liked that idea, very much. It would be easy enough to install a screen in the shed, have the tape play over and over. An unmistakable warning for her successors of exactly what happened to naughty numbers when they broke the rules.
With that in mind as a reward, Sire planned his next move. Twenty-Two may have been fortunate enough to escape, but she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had contacts with ears to the ground and eyes always open; there were few places she would find to hide where he couldn’t find her.
He had no doubts her tongue would not wag wherever she ended up. That was one thing he made sure all his numbers were aware of. Should the tongue move, it was cut from the offending mouth.
There were several small towns in the vicinity. She couldn’t have gotten far, so it was just a matter of keeping his temper in check, engaging his clever brain, and temporarily setting murderous thoughts to one side long enough to snare the cunning little rabbit in his trap.
Once the noose was around her slender neck, all bets were off. He’d drag her kicking and screaming silently back to where she belonged, and then he’d show Twenty-Two exactly what her short-lived freedom cost.
Nothing came without a price.
Nothing.
Chapter Five
Jenna woke in the dark, disorientated. Facedown, warm sheets covering her to just over her buttocks while cooler air kissed her bare back. A whimper stirred in her throat, was ruthlessly cut off as her flesh ached and burned.
Worse than the pain was the instinctive fear that she’d be caught where she shouldn’t. The wounds she had now were nothing compared to what Sire would give her if he found her acting like a…like a human.
Teeth on the verge of chattering, mind delirious, she tried to slip off the bed.
“Not this time, beautiful.” A gruff voice seeped sleepily through the darkness as a hand caught her nape gently, urged her back into position. “Settle down, precious. Go back to sleep.”
The dull fog cleared from her head even as her heart kicked in her chest. Things clicked into place; she wasn’t in the ramshackle shed with Sire hanging over her head as a constant threat. Her belly wasn’t hungry, her skin didn’t crawl with bugs and the cold that came with the damp.
Connor was her existence now.
Her lips parted and his name came oh-so close to whispering on the air. Her throat strained with effort to speak just that one word before rigorous training and soul-deep terror squashed the attempt like a steamroller over a banana.
Trembling viciously, she lay rigid beside her savior, feeling his heat travel the short distance between them. His fingers stroked her nape lazily, the caress soothing. Well, it would have been if Sire’s face didn’t loom through the darkness like a ghostly apparition.
She squeezed her eyes shut but that image remained there. The savage leer on her master’s face, the expression he wore when his arm was raised high with a piece of electric cable or his belt in hand. Eyes gleaming with terrible delight in the moment before he struck and dealt her unbearable pain.
“I’m going to hell for this,” Connor muttered.
They were all going to hell. She’d escaped for a brief time, but she would never escape it completely. She was destined to suffer in hellfire and sulphuric smoke for the rest of her days.
Big hands slipped beneath her, dragged her gently over the mattress before they lifted her like fragile glass. She flailed, only to find herself sprawled on top of a warm, hard body.
Connor grunted quietly, deftly arranging her limbs so they were both comfortable. His hand supported her head, fingers running through her hair before holding her still with her skull cradled against his shoulder.
If her naked body against his affected him, he didn’t mention it.
“I’ve got you, Jenna. I’ve got you safe.” His lips moved against the top of her head, but she felt the words resonate from his chest into hers. A quiet, strong rumble of power that comforted, tamed ravaged nerves. “No one can get you here, I promise. Close your eyes and sleep, baby.”
He was hard and soft at the same time. Muscles encased in warm, smooth skin. Against her breasts, she felt the muted tickle of sparse hair as she breathed. Between her legs, something hard pressed firmly against her mound, trapped in cotton.
Her body responded naturally, and she shifted restlessly as something ached inside her.
“You’ll be the death of me yet.” Another mutter, then the rumble grew deeper, rhythmic as Connor began to hum. His hands worked in tandem; the one in her hair massaged lightly over her scalp, sending tingles racing down her spine. His other hand stroked her hip, feather soft.
Touch and sound settled her. Edgy movements quieted; her eyelids began to droop. The ache in her belly pulsed fiercely before fading into the background, falling away beneath the spell he wove over her.
With a tired sigh, Jenna nuzzled into his chest and surrendered.