Page 13 of Ravager

“Is there anything else you suggest?” I called after him.

He stopped at the door and then turned his head slightly to give me an unreadable glance. “I suggest you prepare yourself.”

And with that, he left the room, locking the door behind him. The sound was so final in the stone-walled chamber, making me feel strangely abandoned. I gripped my blanket tighter.

Prepare for what?

Chapter 8

Erik

The first thing Erik did after leaving Cherine’s chamber was go straight to his own quarters and pleasure himself. Feeling her soft, wet body beneath his hands had been too much for him to take, and he had come far too close to taking her right there, against her will. He knew he essentially had to do so on behalf of Rolf in order to make Cherine suitable for him. If he didn’t, and Rolf was dissatisfied with her, there was a chance Rolf would kill her on the spot, perhaps even kill Erik. He was notoriously fickle like that. Still, Erik had tried to put his past behind him, and forcing himself on women wasn’t something he wanted to be a part of anymore…though, Cherine wasn’t making it easy.

The fact was, Erik had grown soft on her, and he knew it. Soft, though his cock seemed to grow exponentially harder at even the thought of her dark, lustrous hair or full, inviting lips. The way she looked at him, as if daring him to do his worst, not because she thought she deserved it but because she was curious, made Erik mad with lust and desire.

It didn’t take more than a few hard strokes from his hand before he came loudly in his bed. He didn’t even have the frameof mind to be embarrassed by his outcry. He wiped the mess up with a delicately woven pillow and tossed it across the room, not feeling the relief he craved. He still wanted her, still thought of her, and had no idea how to “break her in” without hating himself for it.

If only she could want it,he thought as he sprawled uneasily in his bed, the smooth sheets providing no comfort.If only she knew she’d like it.

And then, the idea came to him. It was perhaps more forceful and brutal than he preferred, but he could only hope she wouldn’t hold it against him when he was done with her.

If he could ever be done with her.

The next morning,Erik awoke with the rising sun, still hidden behind patchy layers of low-lying fog, and started moving. There were no souls stirring in the early hours, thanks to the copious amounts of wine the men had shared the night before, and Erik was pleased to see there were a few casks left. He snatched one off the opulent dining table with one hand, keeping a coil of thin rope in the other.

He went down the narrow, rocky stairs to the dungeon, shuddering at the damp and darkness. He was glad they were moving off that day and hoped Rolf would allow him to keep Cherine in a proper room in the next manor. She was lucky she hadn’t caught an illness while she’d been down there.

He paused at her thick door, debating on whether to knock, then decided the sound of him unlocking was warning enough. Besides, as much as he wanted Cherine, he couldn’t forget for a second that she’d do anything to escape and probably wouldn’tbat an eye if he wound up dead in the process. With that in mind, he pressed the door open and dropped to a crouch, just in case she was on the other side, ready to club him with the washing brush or a leftover plate.

He wasn’t too far off. The minute the door was wide enough, Cherine made a run for it. Erik leaped up and caught her in his arms. She screamed, and he quickly rammed the piece of rope in her mouth to stifle it. He spun her around, a dance of panic in the darkness, making the rope cross behind her head. He brought it down to her arms, where he quickly tied her wrists together, much like he did with his belt before. He was foolish to have removed it in the first place, but she had been so weak up until then; he didn’t think she was much of a threat.

And she wasn’t, not now that Erik had her essentially muzzled, her arms tied together. He held her roughly by her arm, trying to convey his strength, the fact that he couldn’t take things like this lightly. She moaned and sputtered against the rope in her mouth, but as long as she was breathing, he didn’t care. He was actually glad she chose to fight back; it was going to make the next part easier.

Erik took her to the corner of the room, where a single wooden chair sat. He ignored the terror in her eyes, thankful that the light from the torches in the hall didn’t travel quite this far.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Cherine,” he said, and she muttered something violently in return. “But I can’t have you trying to escape. And I can’t have you screaming either. You may think I’m a monster, but I can assure you, the men out there are far worse. Far, far worse.”

This calmed her down for a moment before she realized he was trying to sit her down. She bucked and squirmed, but Erik was fast with his hands, even in the near dark, and in moments,he had her bottom on the seat, the rope wrapped around her and the back of the chair.

He went for her legs next, and Cherine responded by kicking him right in the jaw. He bit down hard from the impact, tasting blood, and he couldn’t help but glare at her. Luckily, he knew the taste of blood would soon be replaced.

He grabbed her legs and tied them as far apart from each other as they could go, hooking them around the corners of the chair, then stood back and looked down at her, seeing only the rough shape of her body and the glint of torchlight in her eyes.

“I brought you some wine to make this easier,” he said. “Would you like some?”

Her eyes widened, and then she shook her head back and forth.No.

“More for me then.” He walked over to the door where he had dropped the cask of wine and opened it to his lips. He squeezed it out of the soft pigskin, filling his mouth and swallowing several gulps. He was nervous—damn nervous.

He reached out into the hallway and plucked one of the torches off the wall, then closed the door and made his way over to Cherine in the corner. He didn’t need the light but figured it might make things less frightening for her if she could see what was happening.

Less frightening and perhaps more enjoyable, he thought. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

Erik placed the torch on the ground and wiped the wine off his lips. He stared at Cherine, and she stared right back. She was absolutely terrified, and he knew she had every right to be, but he also knew she wouldn’t stay scared for long. It might peak for a while, but then she’d be more than fine. He had to keep telling himself that; otherwise, he wouldn’t have the gall to go through with it.

He took a few steps toward her until his shins touched the edge of the chair. He could feel his erection rising and knew she noticed it. Her eyes were torn between his face and the growing bulge in his skirt.

“I’m going to do something for you,” he told her in a soft voice that bellied his rough desire. “It’s not going to hurt, not one bit. I promise you that.”