Less than a beat later, he pressed his body against mine as his hands hiked up the bottom of my dress. The humid, tropical air hummed around my sensitive skin, and I ached for him. I pulled his face to mine, sucking his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of tequila and sin, and I wanted more. I demanded more.
Not wasting a second, his finger slid inside of me, and he groaned into my mouth, igniting pleasure-laced vibrations in my already pulsing core. “You’re so wet,” he said as his lips ghosted along my neck, my pulse a rapid staccato under his wandering mouth.
“Mm,” I moaned, grinding my pelvis against his hand. My hands fumbled with his belt buckle. I was done with foreplay. Game over. I wanted him inside of me. Now.
“Fuck,” he said ripping my hands away just as I managed to release his buckle. He pulled a small square package out of his pocket.
I both loved and hated that he had a condom. Loved because I wanted him buried inside me with as little to regret as possible tomorrow. Hated because it made me realize he might do this often. I forced the thought from my mind. None of that mattered. I had no intention of seeing Ryker after tonight. He’d be my dirty secret…one huge silent fuck you to my mom, Evan, and the next guy my parents shoved in my face when they finally accepted I wouldn’t rekindle my relationship with Evan.
With unsteady hands, I released his button and his zipper. He shoved his pants and boxer briefs down his hips just far enough to free himself, but not far enough to expose himself to wandering eyes. Within seconds, he rolled a condom over his erection. A quick snap of his hand and my panties were discarded in a mystery puddle near our feet.
He wrapped one of my legs around his waist, spreading me, revealing me, and he plunged inside with one deep, breath-robbing thrust. His eyes never left mine as he pounded into me with a confidence and skill I’d never experienced.
In.
Out.
And back in again.
Deeper and harder with every jutting stroke of his hips.
My senses whirled and faded into the moment, unable to concentrate on anything but the building pressure as he moved inside me.
Twisting his fingers into my hair, he gripped my head, his hands biting into my cheeks, his eyes devouring me. The sharp bite of pain only enhanced my desire.
With his gray eyes boring into mine, I imagined he saw through me, penetrating the deep recesses of my mind where I buried secrets, lies, and all the insecurities locked inside my soul. It was too much. I didn’t want an emotional connection. I wanted a mindless fuck that transported me out of my self-induced agony and pity into a mind-shattering pleasure so raw and deep I’d never forget it. Shaking out of his clasp, I dropped my head and closed my eyes, concentrating on the delicious bite of his cock and the rattling of my teeth as he slammed into me.
Without words, he complied, shoving me harder into the wall. His hands tore at my dress. When the material buckled under his strength, he raked the soft skin of my breasts with his hand. I’d never experienced anything so rough and mindless. My perfectly tailored life faded into a blur of primal bliss. I liked it. No, I fucking loved it.
He lifted my other leg, his hands digging into the flesh of my ass, and just like that, an incoherent, disconnected sound escaped my mouth as the most insanely mind-numbing orgasm slashed through my body. A dark tide of pleasure swallowed me as I screamed, unconcerned with who heard. Like a savage, my nails clawed at the hard planes of his shoulders and any other body part I could find, trying to pull him deeper into me…into this chasm of soulless rapture.
“Fuck,” he yelled as he pounded into me. My head hit the wall, and my eyes connected with his at the exact instant of his release. Brutal pleasure contorted the angular features of his face into something both beautiful and wicked.
Then, everything stopped and he froze inside me. The pounding of the music, the low hum of conversation, and the bursts of laughter seeped back into my reality. Out of breath, he buried his head against my shoulder as he released my shaky legs.
With my mind luxuriating in the fog of sex, he tangled one of his hands into my hair and forced me to look at him. Everything was blurred, softer, happier…disguising the hard truths of what just happened. I preferred it. I embraced it. No regrets. A languid smile pulled at the edge my lips. My body wanted him again and again.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his gray eyes simmering with regret. I didn’t understand what he meant, and I opened my mouth to ask, but without warning, a sharp object pierced the thin skin of my neck.
He brushed a kiss across my lips, and my brain became fuzzier and fuzzier as one second bled into the next. Nothing made sense, but then my body swayed and an instant of absolute clarity flashed through my mind.
“You drugged me. Why?” I whispered, my tongue thick and heavy as it rolled over the words in my mouth.
“Because you’re you,” he whispered as my vision faded into nothingness.
Chapter Seven
Present Day
It had been hours since Ryker walked out of the room without explaining anything, leaving me tied to a wooden chair. The room didn’t have a single window, picture, or piece of furniture, except for the chair I sat on and a long wooden table behind me. The silence in the room was deafening; even my breath and the quiet hum of the florescent light seemed loud.
I stared at the white walls and the gray concrete floors as my mind stalked one horrible scenario after another, each worse than the previous. Deviants kept women chained to the walls. Religious fanatics groomed women to be subservient slaves. Sex traffickers drugged women and sold them. Serial murderers abducted women and tortured and killed them. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to beat back my impending panic attack.
I concentrated on the tangible items connecting me to that point in time just like my childhood therapist taught me. My chair was wood. The walls were white. My feet touched the concrete floor. The coarse hairs of the rope chaffed my skin. My bladder was insanely full. Slowly, my heartbeat returned to normal.
Just as the pressure building in my bladder had become too much, and I decided I didn’t care if I soiled myself, the door opened behind me. My muscles coiled into knots waiting for a word. None were spoken. Instead, I listened to the soft shuffle of leather shoes over concrete and faint inhalations and exhalations, moving closer and closer with each passing second.
I could have said something, but I didn’t. I didn’t have anything to say, not yet anyway, and screaming wouldn’t help. I screamed after Ryker left for so long that my throat felt as though I had just finished my first performance as a fire swallower.
“Are you hungry?”
Ryker. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. I recognized his voice. He placed his hands on my shoulders, his front to my back. I could smell him—spice mixed with salty sea air. Fear and loathing in the form of a shudder crept down my spine.
I shook my head.