The Hot Brothers Ch. 14

The support of my cuffed wrists waned, and I found myself lowering my arms. But by the awareness that he had something more to penalize me with, I gathered the security of the pole and him at a distance.

With far too much grace, he went to the leather bench and guided it between the two poles. "On your back," he ordered.

What choice did I have but to obey. First, of course, I cast a wary glance to the couch. For the least I knew, he would lift the seat and retrieve a flogger from his arsenal of cruel devices neatly organized specifically for me.

If only I'd requested flowers as well when I asked him to play his cello. That would have helped with this endeavor. The blooms would have added a calming effect to charm the creature tormented and trapped in him that wished to devour me.

I lowered onto the bench and rested my back against the cool surface. Catching his alluring eyes happened outside my own will. I had no control to stop my desire to be immersed in them. To seal my legs, which widened in welcoming, seemed impossible. What magic did his tune create?

"This, my love, might hurt a bit." What he retrieved was small, no more than a shoe-box sized for for children. But what he removed from it first was as small square wrapper that held a strip with alcohol on it.

He needed to disinfect something for whatever might hurt? I attempted to scramble away, only for him to latch onto me at the waist as I attempted to twist off the cushioned bench. He straddled me with ease. Taking my left arm, he secured the cuff of my wrist to the pole on my left side. He did so with the right wrist as well.

"I'll punish you for that insubordination next," he warned as he lifted himself off of me. By that point, his bulge had definitely grown. Not that it would be used for anything beyond torture.

"Please." My worry had me unwilling to further struggle. "I'll never--"

He raised a finger to his pursed lips before I could tell him that I would never attempt to run ever again. Granted, I never read a dark romance where the promise not to run from a sadist held true. Those escapes in novels were ridiculous and unbelievable anyway.

This man didn't seem to be the sort to let me go. Even the escape at the airport had been permitted or, rather, planned. And now, It wasn't as though the sheer slave outfit would help me to fit in. And even on the highways in my state, there was hardly a safe place to stop and step out where the hills didn't have eyes.

He bent sideways to the pack and retrieved another disinfecting wipe. Once he took the wipe out of the packaging, he shoved the sheer material upward from where it crisscrossed my breasts.

Now that I lay exposed under what felt like a spotlight, people could clearly see the one breast he rubbed the chill alcohol over. I felt as though hyperventilation without sufficient oxygen retrieval would be the death of me. He meticulously sanitized the other nipple area as well, drawing out the time.

Sadist.

Caleb warned me of the sadistic ways of his brother. Like a vampire, this dark lord planned to draw blood.

He lifted some sort of medical scissors and placed the cold medical device on my lower ribs. Then, to my darkest dread of the evils of his sub-humanity, the sight of the needle as long as a finger--and not near as thin as the ones on syringes--that he lifted next dizzied me. No one would subject themself to that. Maybe if drugs or an excessive amount of alcohol was involved.

I couldn't stop the swells of my chest, not even as he grabbed my left breast. I struggled to get my words out. "I--I promise--I--please, Sir. Please."

The responding smirk flashed no teeth, but it did reach his eyes. That could mean any number of things. Honestly, I didn't have to imagine an antihero from a dark romance, I had the real-life monster, just without the safety of written words.

"Right now, I only plan for these piercings, but every offence will have this needle exploring lower. Starting with any further attempts to stop me."

I bit my lips to hinder any response.

"And I plan to add chains." He gripped my left breast painfully tight.

My harder bite trapped my lips between my teeth. No words. No argument. Just look into those forested eyes and accept whatever he desired. Eternally, if he wanted anything it could be his if only to limit the possibility of that sharp thing--

The horror of sharpness through skin registered. Were those the eyes of a monster darkening and reflecting light? Would fangs form at the smell of my blood?

"Hold your breath or this will hurt worse." His warning brought me to the realization of my panicked breathing and his desperate hold of breast and the still-prodding needle. He continued his push.

It felt as though the metal must have grown longer and thicker. Dear God, whyever have I been forsaken? What beautiful pure angel unmarred by evil would be tossed down from the heavens to be stabbed and victimized in such a way by the evils of humanity? The evils of a beautiful, lust-worthy male who'd lured me astray to be his. To chain me by my breasts so I could never escape the dungeons created to house such a wiley being as myself.

He yanked up the scissor-like grabbers and pulled the torturous blade of ritual. All too quickly he had them tossed to my lower ribs and another alcohol pad to where he'd just shoved something into me. Perhaps he was a doctor, but far from the hospital. This was simply a life-saving surgery after he happened upon me in distress.

If only I had a penchant for medical romance--maybe I would after this. Though, I imagined it might be annoying with sanitization and ritual for those who needed to assess the true-to-protocolness of everything they read. Did I fucking care enough to pay attention to that stupid unromantic detail meant for a medical training course?

John was my shifter captor, that was all. He had magical healing saliva. But the one thing that would turn him into a fuck-hungry werebeast was blood. How had the overly stimulated nub between my legs awoken once again?

Now he wiggled the spot where he'd performed despite my unregulated chest. "One to go. Contingent upon good behavior, of course," he said, again grabbing for the needle. I would most certainly pass out if I cared to see my right breast that he now squeezed and the sharp that most certainly angled for attack.

This time I whimpered, pulling helplessly at the bars that my wrists were bound to. The next jab hit with brutal force, thrusting in more swiftly than the last. But there was also something more. Some ache building and additional energy that managed to make him the only thing I desired awareness of.

***

What insanity created the delusion that I liked this? Did I? The throb of the spot he now attended to held not an ounce of light in comparison to the heat he'd already stirred between my legs.

"You liked that, didn't you, Julie?" He sucked me from my euphoric dizziness to discover he'd started to explore my folds. "You fucking loved it."

I shook my head. Not me. Not the pure and good angel he'd unjustly captured.

"Why the fuck are my fingers coated in your desire?" Now he raised them to his slightly open mouth, running them over his lower lip.

I continued to adamantly deny whatever accusation he spoke.

The evil smirk returned behind his fingers and he reached out to my right nipple and pulled the piercing with a force that caused me to arch my back. "Don't fucking lie to me, Julie." His fingers plunged into me again, catching that blissful spot of nerves as they went deep. "Don't you ever fucking lie to me again."

The glare--hostile and unforgiving--asserted his ownership of me as his digits began to pump mercilessly. One of those fingering punishments slaves loved and hated. "Do you think Caleb is out there with everyone else watching and listening to your well-earned punishment?"

Without a doubt, but I wouldn't look. Instead, I mewled. I also whimpered and, most likely, pled, but this sadist who'd purchased me would heed to no such plea or suffer any remorse.

I didn't even know nipple piercings could feel as though fire had been set, but he was an expert at dark magic. All I could do was refuse myself the self-preserving physical responses that would serve no use. Our eyes were locked--his a swirling orb of lust that delighted in my yield to his torment.

With a scowl, he gave my body a short reprieve while stretching to the side to yank up the couch seat that hid his assortment of brutal equipment. What might a man too powerful to be stopped use on me? A flogger? A long whip with crackling beads? Something that involves shocking? Oh the things the Mafia bosses could do to their disobedient wives who'd been given no choice but to be their plaything.

"Please--"

"Oh, don't worry your sweet little heart Julie." Then came the white cylinder in my periphery. "I won't make you beg for an orgasm." It must have been a foot long as he raised it. One of those wands the cruel--

Oh god. That was no cute little hum. Maybe a motorcycle turned on outside. That made sense. But this sound increased as he brought it close.

"What's the matter, Julie?" John asked. "This is what you've been wanting."

"I want..." I didn't want that monstrous thing. I wanted a book, a small vibrator I had control of, and, above all, my imagination.

Why hadn't I just married Roy and settled for mediocre? What did I ever expect of the real world, anyway? People, and they couldn't be controlled. They couldn't even be understood. Their haircolor or stubble couldn't be left to the imagination. "I want..."

The grinding sound ended. He'd turned it off. Something pleased him.

"Tell me what you want, Julie." Why were his damned eyes so mesmerising, like a forest I wanted to be chased through. To be captured and bound and mercilessly ravished in. And those broad shoulders that looked so beautiful as he held the bow. Those fingers that strummed so magnificently, but did so on the power button of the device.

The buzz rattled my ears as he took the one dooming step that towered above me.

No, no, no.

I jerked as best I could. Not that I had the strength to free myself.

It sunk toward my core.

"Capture me," I blurted, panting. I attempted to hide the appall in my voice at my own shame at my twisted desires, but it only managed to morph his expression. "But don't cause pain. Please..."

"But, my darling." He lowered onto his knees, bringing the device above my core. "You and I both love your pain."

The frantic shakes of my head emphatically argued otherwise. No one escapes pain. It's real and the discomfort is as obnoxious as noise or bad smells.

He used his free hand to reach up to one of the piercings and pulled it his direction.

I cried out. Not that it hurt to excess. It sent jolts of discomfort and desire straight down to my core where the vibrator hovered an inch above, menacing and cruel. And that only terrified me more. The pleasure might bring me to orgasm and then leave me to endure the gargantuan vibrator.

"Sir--"

It landed on my stomach, buzzing, but not close to my nub--yet. He yanked the front of his pants down and plunged his swollen cock into me, not missing a beat before he had a hold on the wand again. Pressing it against my pelvis, but not anywhere that would overwhelm me.

"Oh fuck, Julie." He pumped all the way into me. "I never knew letting people watch me fuck could be such a turn-on." The vibrator, rumbling powerfully, was pressed down only an inch away from my nub so it didn't interfere with his in and out. The force of it, though, rattled me to my core. This merciless beast...this warlord...no, this ancient and feral vampire would torment me into an orgasm. He probably thought of me as nothing more than a toy to torment--no different than a cat toying with his dinner.

The piercings pulled, adding to the painful bliss and he tilted my hips so the head of the wand pressed to my nub. "Look at me, Julie!" His demand forced me out of mind and to the rumbling that had my muscles straining, yet failing to aid me.

Anyone looking in on me probably loved the pained expression on my face. The one that endured too much torment and couldn't hide the orgasmic "O" of my lips.

Green eyes consumed me.

My climax burst free, more strongly than any other time before, bringing spasms to my bound form.

How could I not want to escape a man like this, who'd brought real agony with pleasure? Who'd done things to me--things once considered fantasy. Things I never wanted to occur in real life.

Eyes alive with turbulence continued to stake their claim over my psyche. My true-to-life captor secured his hold over me in both body and mind.

That stare remained true--powerful and unyielding.

The vibrator crashed to the floor, still buzzing with wrath.

Every pump of his hips squelched with the wetness he'd stirred inside me. Like a tuning, shifting slightly each time until it transitioned to a melody. A harmony that was both dark and brooding as it settled upon me, just as its creator.

Even fiction never brought about this sensation. This...this connectedness to body and life. This atonement to my being. To another person. To that person's absolute bliss as he released himself inside me.

Something took hold of me. Insanity, perhaps. But magic felt as though it was at play. Or even drugs that made sensations more magnificent. He seemed magnificent. The pulsing within me felt magnificent.

He was the type of man I truly did want to capture me. To bring me to this precipice again. And again and again. Indefinitely.