Chapter
5

Soft, fine strands of her hair bunched in my fist as I gripped them near her skull. She was still fucking crying, and it was the hottest shit I’d seen in my life. Her features were pale, blotchy expanses of red and tears tracked through the dirt and grime on her cheeks after her exertion. But she was weak.

Weak bitches made me nervous. My sister had been weak. Too weak to see the truth of some fucking idiot’s lies, and it had cost her everything. I shouldn’t have given a shit for the screaming woman’s fear or emotions, but I did. Twisted up in my need and pleasure, I felt like a sick fuck, too. Wrong for wanting to do the things I knew I’d do to her, and craving the damage I’d leave behind.

Did the man who’d killed my sister feel the same?

I wanted Ash to break, but I needed her to crave to mend.

I wanted her to fall, but I needed her to laugh as she got back up.

Fuck, I wanted her to be whatever I wanted her to be and love every minute of it.

The thought only pissed me off more. Caesar St. Clair didn’t need a woman, emotions, the whole fucking string of what heroes were made of—ever. There was no going back to who I might have been after the things I’d done. Pushing the confusion in my head into a vault and slamming the door closed, I dragged her behind me.

“Let’s get back to the house, shall we? Sean got some shit catered, and I’m hungry.”

She did that screaming shit again, and I joined her. Why not? Sometimes you just had to release the stress, and we were miles away from the nearest neighbor, who happened to work for me. Tough shit for my pet. I dragged her toward my discarded bike. This was going to hurt her like hell. But she’d run a good distance, and I wasn’t in the mood for He-Man antics all the way back to the house. Better to save my strength for later. I’d need it.

I swung one leg over the bike and then punched it. The spinning back wheel steered dangerously close to her face, and I stopped to watch for a minute.

“How much of your scalp do you think it’ll take if I put your hair in the spokes?” I asked.

Fuuuuuck.

She was a screamer.

I hated screamers.

They made me agitated. Maybe she’d screamed like them, where no one could hear her.

Didn’t change what was about to happen, and that knowledge messed me up.

Irritated as fuck now, I pinned her head to my thigh and gunned the bike forward. A bit hard, one handed, but we made it back to the cabin without an accident. I can now mark “Flintstoning a chick behind my bike” off the bucket list.

“Do you need any assistance?” Sean asked as soon as I stomped into the cabin.

“Get the table for me, will ya? I’d like some good scenery while I eat.”

Quiet, she was so quiet now. Her head lulled from right to left as she clawed at my fingers still wrapped in her hair with enough strength to just maybe piss off a puppy. Instinct. At least her instincts were good. I let go and watched her slump to the floor, thin trails of blood streaking down her back, cracked leaves stuck to her flesh.

“You’re a lunatic,” she whispered.

The word jolted through me, along with her bloody smile. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t hold her head up, but her smile was wicked and her tongue sharp.

For the first time ever, that word did something to my cock I didn’t expect. Rage swelled through me, raced through my veins like molten lava, making me want to slice open skin and play in the white meat. That need didn’t surprise me. But underneath it, deep enough to give me pause, another emotion bubbled and popped in the tar of my soul.

Desire.

Blood pumped into my cock, stretching the length, and I wondered how much more pain she could take. How many times I could beat her before that wicked smile dissipated and she couldn’t fight back anymore.

“Do you know what is going to happen to you?” I asked as I hunkered down next to her.

She still didn’t open her eyes but she turned her face in my direction. “You’re going to kill me, but it won’t change the fact you’re fucking crazy. I’ve had worse men than you.”

“Who? Jason the Bitch?”

Her brows furrowed at my name for her trainer, but I didn’t give her time to respond. “I’m going to sit down to eat, then I’m going to fuck you, pretty girl. I’m going to come all over that pretty fucking face and smear my nut into your skin. Then I’m going to toss you in a cage without food and water. I’m going to watch you piss and shit yourself until you’re begging for freedom. Until you want what only I can give you. Do you know why?”

She spat blood in answer, so I punched her in her mouth. My pets had manners. Her bottom lip split, vibrant red spilling down her cheek and into her hair.

“The response you were looking for was, ‘No, Caesar. Please tell me why.’”

“Fuck you.”

I sighed. My dick twitched and anger exploded. I shouldn’t want this girl. Playing with her was fine, exercising some kind of demon and reminding myself what kind of monster I was, was perfect. But wanting her? Craving the essence of who she was for some fucking unfathomable reason? Fuck no. I gripped the back of her head in a tight fist and flipped her over before slamming her face into the floor. Satisfied I hadn’t heard a crunch—would hate to have her nose heal fucked up and I’d have to look at that nasty shit—I still liked the pretty way she gurgled and choked before crying out.

“I’m going to fuck you. And I’m going to hurt you really, really bad. But that’s not what I told you to say. Come on, Ashy Lashy. Play with me.”

“No, Lunatic. Please tell me why.”

My cock pinched against my zipper. This woman did shit to me, and I wasn’t sure if I hated it or loved it; either way I would enjoy the ride. To make my point, I pushed her bruised face into my crotch and rubbed it up and down my swelling length. She tried to fight, but I didn’t release her. The slickness of her blood made the glide easier and only made me harder.

“Because you’re going to fucking like everything I do to you. Because Pussy Boy couldn’t make you come the way I will. Because you’re going to like being my whore so much you’ll beg me for it.”

Sean dragged the manacle-laced table into the living room, the heavy wood creaking with each step. He ignored Ashlyn and her facetime with my dick as he did what I ordered. Once he put it in place, he stepped over Ash’s flailing legs toward the kitchen. The action irritated me.

“Hey, show some respect. You don’t step over my shit like that. Come back and walk around her.”

Sean turned on me with a quizzical glance, but I didn’t stop staring at him. I pulled Ashlyn away from my dick and watched him step back over her and then walk around the table to go into the kitchen to get my meal.

“Fucking idiots don’t know how to treat a lady,” I told her.

Hell, neither did I, but some random anger that he thought he could do that do her rankled me.

I shook my head as I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the table that would be her home for the next few hours. I liked to take my time eating and fucking. I loved savoring every morsel, and I wouldn’t be rushed. She gasped for air as I locked her on top of the table and then produced my knife.

“You won’t be needing these anymore, will you?”

Pointless to ask her, of course; she was giving me the silent treatment. I shrugged and cut away her bra and panties. Soft, brown nipples and a bare pussy greeted my hungry gaze. Fuck yeah. Trace hadn’t lied about his sister; she was a hot piece, and she now belonged to me. I’d make sure to put my fucking stamp inside of her momentarily.

“Oh, sweet Ash. We’re going to have so much fun.”