Brows lifted, I let the silence become prophetic of the trouble that’s befallen her. I cover her eyes while calling her my little birdie in Gaelic.
12
Ava
“Darkness is your friend,” Kieran had whispered. The combination of words moves from his tongue like a caress, extinguishing a fraction of the goose pimples creeping over my arms. The concept of time and reality ceased to exist while I’m stuck in his world. Is this purgatory or the simple slice of heaven he claims it is?
If I’ve found favor for the first time in my life, I want more than the physical connection Kieran has forced upon me. More than the stolen touches, the slaps. For the first time in my life, I’m not the girl who attempted to stave off my husband’s dark craving—oncewe were married and Adnan transformed into a monster. My mind has certainly not transported me to my beloved Belize before Papa was entangled in the drug trade.
I’m too afraid to beg for more. Now, with my hands useless, bound behind me, a feeling of helplessness washes me from head to toe. Kieran brings me to my feet. His movements are tender, nurturing, and guiding. I would’ve been purposefully tripped by Adnan and forced to bear the blame and punishment. The dark, twisted part of me that dissects the difference between my captor and my corrupt ex-husband craves the unknown. A hope that, this time, the hurt will transform . . . evolve . . . become something I desire.
What are Kieran’s plans for me? I fought tooth and nail to dissolve my last abusive relationship, almost tasted a small slice of freedom. Now with nothing to look back to in California save for pain, I silently concede to Kieran. Truth be told, I don’t mind Kieran’s version of sadism, which lacks Adnan’s knack of humiliating me. Anyway, what do I have left to lose?
His arm encircles my waist, and he lifts me with ease, carrying me through the darkness. His hand moves to the small of my back and, as if we orchestrated this as one, he guides me in one fluid motion onto a bed. I feel his fingers brush the hair that was tickling my cheek. I can’t see him, but I know instinctively he desires an unfiltered view of me.
“Don’t scream, Ava.” Kieran’s voice is soft yet powerful, compelling me to forget the residuals of distrust.
Cool air rushes over my skin. I covet his touch and anticipate it seconds before his fingers caress the silk of my mouth in a slow caress. The intimacy of the gesture leaves me breathless.
His beautiful brogue weaves together a plea. “Don’t fight. Please keep breathing like this for me.”
It’s as if he’s begging me to enjoy this. Though, most men in his position are incapable of contemplating anything past their own release.
His mouth descends on mine. I feel a smile on his lips as he stays close and groans. “You’re still tense. You’re not so wound up when fighting me, lassie. Would you like a drink?”
“No.”
“Very well. I’ll drink for the both of us.” He starts to rise, and my face turns to search out his lean, rugged form. “Just realized, haven’t had abevysince I brought you home, Ava.”
“Bev . . .”
“A drink.”
Helpless, I search through the darkness for my handsome abductor. Seconds later, I instinctively realize he’s walked away. I start to fidget with the binding on my wrists when Kieran clicks his tongue.
“You miss me?”
He follows up the silly inquiry with that Gaelic phrase.
“No,” I sigh.
“Eh,youmiss me.” The heavy weight of him crashes down over me softly. A hint of smoky scotch on his breath reaches me before his tongue dips into my mouth.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, Ava. Arealkiss, sweetheart.”
Suddenly, a pleasing haze fogs my brain. His mouth takes a detour, skirting over my jaw, following a trail over the slope of my breasts.
Each time his lips touch my body, acid burns through my veins over every desperate touch.
Kieran parts my pussy lips with his fingers and traces my slit. I’m caught totally off guard when something steely and rock hard penetrates me. In a shaky moan, my fingers grip the sheet. I start panting and mumbling incoherent words. “What-what is that?”
“The handle of my gun.” Kieran chuckles, his thumb running circles on my clit.
“Liar,” I seethe. I wiggle away from the object of all my desires. At the same time, I’m pressing my pelvis closer to the sensation.Pathetic, I know.Okay. I’ve gone loco. I need this.
I hear myself whimper for release. Kieran’s technique becomes more forceful, pursuing my lust spot. Unable to suppress a moan, I cave to the unbridled agony barreling through me and arch, rocking my hips.
“I’ll not punish you for calling me a liar. I bet,” his voice is airy, light, and the kink in me appreciates the amusement, “you wish it were my cock thrusting in you. Oh, work those round hips, beautiful.”