Page 36 of Obsession

Pulsing anger reverberated in Ella’s head, making it difficult to think.

How? The question rose, temporarily blasting through her fury. How have I let this happen?

Logically, she knew what had transpired. She understood how she’d ended up bound there in probably the least comfortable position she could think of, but at the same time, she couldn’t explain her predicament.

How had they gone from playful banter and an exchange of intimacies to this crass savagery? Her shoulders screamed with the burden of her new position, and she couldn’t even move her head properly to help ease their agony.

Fucker.

Her focus flew to his face, her toes curling at his look of exultation. Tucker had emptied his balls all over her, and she hadn’t been in a position to help him, let alone stop him.

Somewhere deep inside, that reality riled her the most. The fact she’d actually been keen to pleasure him, that she’d wanted to give him the blow job, sliced at her core. All he had to do was allow a quick clean-up, and she’d have happily delivered the orgasm to him on a plate, but no… he wouldn’t hear about it.

When push had come to shove, Tucker hadn’t been prepared to compromise.

“That is better.” Grinning, his hand moved to her hair, but she recoiled back to the bed, determined to avoid his touch.

“Go and fuck yourself.” Her heart raced at his dark chuckle, her breaths racing at his sneer.

“No need, darling.” He leered as he zipped up his fly. “I’ll never need to do that again now that I have you here.”

“You don’t have me,” she countered through gritted teeth. “You’ve taken me without my consent, and you’re keeping me here like this!”

Her jaw tightened at his sheer audacity. How could he think it was okay to treat her this way? The spankings and the ropes had been one thing—unacceptable and unwarranted, but she’d never felt she was in genuine danger—but this? She pulled in a shaky breath, inadvertently breathing in the masculine scent of his orgasm that was drying on her skin.

Oh God. Wordless dread snaked inside her, ballooning until she struggled to take in more air. He’s done this to me, and he doesn’t care.

What did that say about him? What kind of man was she stuck in this shithole with? Tucker had revealed a little about himself when they’d cuddled, but she still didn’t know who he was. Hell, she didn’t even know how he’d earned so much money. The guy could be capable of anything…

“You’re wrong, little girl.” His laughter echoed around her as he walked toward the fire. “I do have you, and I’m going to enjoy you.”

“Fucker.”

She muttered the word, her rising trepidation preventing her from yelling it to his face the way she’d done in her head. Yet again, Tucker had the upper hand, and though she didn’t like it, she had no choice but to accept it. She’d be wise to keep her lips sealed and not make the situation even worse, but Christ, that was more difficult than it sounded.

How dare you! Her glare drilled into his back. How fucking dare you!

It was difficult to focus on anything save her resentment as he busied himself by the hearth. Rage flared in what seemed like every cell of her body, preparing her to collide with her captor just as soon as she was free. She barely noticed it when he grabbed a box from beside the fire or how his blade sliced through the vegetables he found in there.

Ella had no idea how long she remained there while he worked. Grappling with the discomfort at her knees and shoulders, time had become a meaningless facet.

She tried not to think about her home or the torment her mum must be going through. To have any chance of getting through this ordeal, she had to stay strong, and dwelling in her pit of self-pity most certainly wouldn’t aid her.

“Are you hungry?” He peered over his shoulder, the intensity of his stare interrupting her bleak thoughts.

Am I hungry? She tensed at the preposterous query, wishing she could free her arms and stretch out her weary muscles. Ella had only been able to grab a few hours of sleep since she’d woken up in this nightmare. That, combined with the lack of sustenance, meant she was exhausted. Of course, I’m hungry!

“I’m making soup.” Apparently unconcerned by her lack of response, Tucker hummed to himself as he set the pot over the fire. “It’s basic but hearty. My own recipe.”

“Not rabbit, I hope.” Her stomach twisted as though it echoed her sentiments.

“Not rabbit,” he agreed, although still, he didn’t turn around. “And remember how to refer to me, little girl.”

“Sure.” She glanced at the bed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes in case he caught sight of the gesture and invented yet another awful way to punish her for the alleged offense. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“That’s more like it.” He snorted as he stirred the pot with an unseen implement.

“How long are you going to keep me like this?” Her gaze fell to the floor as far as the damned binds in her hair allowed. A part of the woman she’d once been couldn’t believe she even had to ask. “My arms are killing me, sir.”

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