Chapter Three
Teddy
My heart is pounding as I run through the familiar aisles of furniture and crap that fills the old barn. The antiques business has long since run dry with Jane ignoring it, and a layer of dust and neglect hangs over everything. The rain pours down heavily, covering any sound of being followed I might hear. My nipples are hard against the fabric of my shirt. Sparks of excitement race through me as I hide behind an old dresser, peeking out to see if he's following.
The thrill of the recent kills still courses through me and the thought of being able to truly have release after.... I peer out again, letting out a small squeal when I see a shadow moving closer.
"Come out, Amelia," he calls out. "It'll be easier on you if you do."
I bite my lip at the promise, pleased he's playing my games with me. With a giggle, I turn to change spots and gasp when I hit a large chest. His hand darts out and grabs my wrist before I can move away. I look up at him and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, 'that it'?
Or maybe that was just me.
Twisting my body to move away, I overestimate how slippery my wet skin is. He easily flips me around so my back is to him, his arms around my body holding my arms to me.
"I know you think you want this," he whispers in my ear, "But you should have fought harder, little doll. You have years and years to pay for, but I think we'll start with this little mess you made."
He spins me around to face him and I open my mouth, but he finds mine before I can speak. I melt into his lips but push back against his chest a moment later. He doesn't move far and his hand reaches out and grips my throat. My hand comes up instinctively, but he grabs it, twisting it around my back.
"Aghg," I let out a strangled cry, and he squeezes tighter on my throat until I can't breathe. My own heartbeat pumps against his hands, slowly, steadily. I feel the top of my thighs heat even as I struggle against his grip. My own grasp loosens as my vision begins to dot and fade. He releases me, catching my limp body easily as I gasp for air.
Not waiting for me to recover, he grabs both my wrists in his and pulls his belt from its loops. The crack of leather makes me gasp, but not in fear. I try to pull my wrists away, despite my clit beginning to throb and how badly I want to see what he does with that belt.
"Little doll..." he says, his voice low with warning. Through my struggles, he quickly pulls the loop tightly over my wrist. I grunt lightly as he tugs on it, tightening it as he pulls me to him.
"That's a bit better," he smirks, and I lean up to nip at his lip, making him chuckle. Keeping his eyes on my face, he fastens the belt and drops my hands so they fall in front of me. He grabs my chin, pulling me to him until we're almost, but not quite, touching. His smell, that base masculine scent that he's always had, fills me. Underneath, the hint of blood and fresh rain all combine in a heady mixture.
Excitement courses through me at the thought of what he’ll do to me. Pain doesn’t scare me. The only thing that scares me is the thought of living a life of dullness and boredom.
And Branson? Branson excites me.
"Now, about your punishment," he says, stepping away from me and slowly pulling off his dripping-wet shirt. I let out a small whimper, and he turns to me and winks. Winks!
Even though I've seen him naked a million times, his body still makes mine tingle. The scars on his skin, especially the ones from me, are the most erotic thing I've ever seen. My lips part and I'm aware I'm almost panting as I watch him begin to remove his socks.
"Teddy," he tells me, "has been a very bad girl, and so has Amelia. But it's my Little Doll who is going to take the punishment. Do you understand?"
I find myself nodding without thinking, his words washing over me. He smiles.
"Good."
He steps up to me once more, wearing only pants. I'm acutely aware of how many clothes I'm wearing and wish I had taken the time to undress in my mad dash. I twist my wrists lightly against the tight band and his eyes glance down at them.
"Turn around," he tells me.
I wait only a second before obliging, turning so my back is facing him. My breath is loud in my own ears, the rain drowning out the sound of his approach. I feel rather than hear when he steps up behind me. A hand touches my shoulder, and something presses against my spine. It takes me a moment to realize it's a blade. My breath catches as he pushes down lightly, his hand holding me straight and steady.
After a moment, he releases his hand and reaches up to let the blade slide down the fabric of my top. Cold air hits my back and I shiver but stay still as he rips the rest of the shirt off, leaving my top half bare save for the belt around my hands. The blade trails down my naked flesh and I don't move, waiting as it moves down to the silk belt still holding my poofy skirt in place.
I turn my head to look down, doing a double take when I see him untying the silk length carefully rather than cutting it. When he's done, he places it on a nearby piece of furniture. He turns back to me, taking the skirt in both hands and ripping it. The fabric tugs against my waist and I let out a small gasp as the cool air touches the rest of my flesh.
I close my thighs instinctively as I stand there in only panties and socks once more, my bound wrists the only other thing covering my nakedness. My eyes follow him closely as he walks around me, taking in my body. I stand as tall as I can, letting my hungry eyes show him what I want, what I need.
I’ve had the chance before to be with men. Shit, I’ve played around with my fair share. But none of them ever gave me a fraction of what I needed. Passion and desire like I feel right now are something special. Worth waiting for.
For the first time, I’m grateful Jane made me wait.
He's like a predator, sure and fierce, as he stalks in front of me. I'm fucking baffled we ever managed to break this magnificent man, but it occurs to me perhaps that’s where his strength comes from. After all, broken people are the best kind.