Page 15 of Ravager
Even with the feeling—or perhaps the illusion—of freedom, I felt lost, dizzy, and utterly conflicted about what had just happened to me. Erik, who was so gentle and so rough, the man who had both captured and cared for me, had done things to my body that had never been done before—things I would do anything to experience again.
And I hated myself for it.
Erik could tell. He eyed me warily as he wrapped the rope into a coil and placed it on the ground at my feet.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, trying not to look at me too closely.
I tilted my chin up. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. You can’t hurt me. Everything I’ve ever had has been taken from me. I have nothing left.”
He seemed to ponder that, then reached forward and wiped the area around my mouth, his thumb rough as it scraped along my bottom lip. It smelled musky, and the scent made my lips part further.
“If you have nothing left,” he murmured, his gaze glued to my lips, “then it seems you have everything to gain.”
His words made my heart thud anxiously in my chest. I didn’t trust my feelings anymore, and I certainly didn’t trust him. What Erik did was wrong, I knew, even though Marc and I had done similar things behind the thicket. Not those exact things, for I had never had an orgasm before, but they hadn’t been pure either.
You’re being foolish,I told myself, turning my face to the side, away from his. I focused on a spiderweb hanging from the rafters.You’ve been captured by a barbarian and he had his way with you. You’re no smarter than a mule if you think that’s something that should feel good, let alone right.
But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, it did feel good, maybe even right. Even looking at Erik felt satisfying. With everything that had happened to me, all the loss I had suffered, his handsome face brought me a strange sense of comfort. It was like I had found a kindred spirit in him, someone who was born to a life they didn’t want, with only dreams of running away.
But this man hasn’t run from anything,I thought, slowly bringing my eyes back to him. Still, there was that fire that burned in his eyes, the fire I had just glimpsed, that suggested he wasn’t without his own secrets.
A thud from somewhere above brought us both to attention. Erik looked up at the ceiling and back at me with new determination.
“Listen to me: I’m going to have to tie you up again,” he said, reaching for the rope.
I reached out and grasped his forearm, ignoring the feel of his fine hair, the width of his muscle. “You will not!”
He brushed my hand away. “I can’t trust you to not run away again.”
“If I recall correctly, I didn’t run the first time.”
“Don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Well then don’t tie me up!” I exclaimed. I crossed my arms and hugged them close to my chest. I knew I was outmatched with Erik; I just wished my freedom hadn’t been so short-lived.
He sighed and stretched the rope out between his hands. “It will just be around your hands, and it will just be for show—for the most part.”
He picked up my hands, and, reluctantly, I let him tie my wrists together.
“I take it you don’t trust me,” I muttered.
“Should I trust you?” he asked incredulously.
I shook my head. “No, I guess you shouldn’t.”
Suddenly, he bent over, his face mere inches from mine. I sucked in my breath at the intrusion, feeling a wave of skin tightening at the back of my neck. “And you don’t trust me,” he said. “So we’re even, aren’t we?”
I swallowed hard. “For now,” I said thickly.
He peered at me for a moment before nodding stiffly. He straightened and pulled me up by my shoulders. With our height difference, there was at least half a foot between us, and he lowered his head to talk to me.
“I don’t know how long it is to Saint Martin, perhaps overnight. I’ll need to be with you at all times.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”
“I’m serious. This is for your own protection.” His mouth grew grim, and he slipped his hand around my bicep, gripping firmly.
“You really don’t think much of your Vikings, do you?”