I COULDN’T MOVE.
I couldn’t stand up, breathe, think, or feel without being bombarded by agony. I’d never hurt so much. Not even after a tortuous fifteen-hour day huddled over a sewing machine, or twelve hours on my feet in stilettos.
I’d never been subjected to pain such as this.
To a beating such as this.
And this was the easiest of the debts?
Terror clogged my throat at the thought of what the others entailed.
Movement caught my attention. I forced my tear-stained vision to focus on Jethro as he prowled to the ferns and reached into the foliage. What was he doing?
A second later he moved toward me? every step full of temper and thick, thick lust.
Shit.
I squirmed, tugging on the cuffs. Before the whipping, I would’ve willingly let him take me. I wanted him to.
But not like this.
Not like this!
Not when my brain wept with agony and my emotions were completely screwed up.
“No,” I groaned.
Jethro gritted his jaw, his hand disappearing into his jeans.
A keening wail clawed up my throat. I couldn’t let him fuck me. I hurt. So damn much. I wasn’t turned on or interested in the slightest. I couldn’t stomach being molested further.
You don’t have a choice.
My heart cracked at the thought. No, I didn’t have a choice. He would take me. There was nothing I could do about it.
Apart from…
Appeal to the warmth you know is inside him. Make him listen. Make him see.
Jethro’s hands landed on my hips, yanking me away from the post. My body was jelly, my skin slick with sweat and blood.
Shaking my head, I moaned, “Please don’t touch me.”
Jethro’s only response was rubbing his thumbs in slippery circles on my damp hips.
Clamping my thighs together, I forced my depleted body to obey. My ankles crossed awkwardly, my breathing tattered. “Jethro—please…don’t do this.”
He froze, panting harshly in my ear. “You want me. You’ve toyed with me and offered yourself up every time we fight.” His forehead rested against my nape, his breath scattering down my spine. “Yet, now that I’m willing to throw away the fucking rule book, you decide you don’t want me?” His voice dripped with venom. “Make up your damn mind, woman.”
His knee tried to wedge between my legs, working its way to widen my thighs. I used every ounce of remaining strength to lock my knees tighter.
“Let me give it to you. Don’t take it. Not by force. Don’t make me ha—hate you more than I already do.” Tears torrented from the corners of my eyes.
Jethro sucked in a breath. “Goddammit.” His voice was alive and full of need. More alive than I’d ever heard him. Gone was the cold precision and careful calculation. He was hot-blooded and raging, and some part of me was flattered by his desire.
He wanted me.
A lot.
That power turned the burning fire on my back into something twisty and wrong. But I didn’t succumb. I couldn’t.
If I did, there would be no hope for me. No chance at ever redeeming myself if I let him take me like this.
I wanted to seduce him.
I wanted the power of winning.
This…this would be rape, and it would reinforce in his head that he could take whatever he damn well wanted and suffer no repercussions.
“Stop it!” I screamed as his hands drifted down my front. The fight inside intensified, blotting out the awful radiating pain in my back.
Something hot and silky nudged against the small of my spine. “Christ’s sake, woman. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
What is that?
All senses shot to where he stroked me with a hard throbbing…
It’s his erection.
My heart leapt into my throat.
Jethro rocked harder, his body heat scalding every inch. His naked cock lurched against my bloody back.
I hissed as pain intensified.
He grunted as I jolted in the bindings. “Please—” I begged.
The tips of my fingers scrabbled at the post as I tried to keep my balance. His knee worked harder to unlock my thighs.
“You can’t stop this. Neither of us can.”
The truth in his voice daggered my heart.
If we did this, we would slip from humanity and turn over our souls. We’d become animals, forever fighting and cursing each other.
My back flared with flames as his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me from the post and into his twisted embrace. I wriggled against him, blocking out the agony. “Jethro!”
His cock nudged me again, bruising me with his need.
“Shit, let me—”
“I won’t! Not like this.”
He groaned, a savage mixture of a growl of frustration and grunt of regret.
My vision blacked out then returned, masking the pain and encouraging me to drift. I expected a longer war. In complete truthfulness, I expected to lose and be taken like a common slave against the whipping post with my blood smearing between us.
It was better to give in—get it over with.
Then I could rest.
Yes, rest. Sleep…
Fight siphoned from my limbs, succumbing to the inevitable.
But Jethro…the moment I submitted, he stiffened.
He…he let me go.
His body heat stayed blistering and all-consuming behind, but he didn’t touch me.
Neither of us moved. I was too shocked to ask why.
Then, a noise hit my ears. A noise I wasn’t familiar with yet knew exactly what it was. Some primal part of me needed no confirmation, painting a vivid scene in my head of what Jethro was doing.
My heart sped up as the rhythmic sound grew louder. His breathing came short and sharp, sending my skin prickling with knowledge.
My mind filled with images of him. I pictured his head tossed back, his chest rising and falling, and legs spread for balance. I bit my lip as I let my imagination wander, bringing into focus his strong fingers wrapped around his cock, punishing himself with a grip that worked up and down, up and down. Faster and faster.