I stumbled backward. “That’s what hurt you the most? The fact that I let my father welcome you the way it’s always been done? That I’m obeying tradition? You’re hurt because I’m following the rules—the same rules which you don’t seem to comprehend?”
My brain hurt. I’d never talked so much in my life. Never argued a subject or tried to understand another’s point of view. That wasn’t my world.
Shut her up.
I hated her questions and accusations. They didn’t just stop at one but dragged a whole caravan of inquiry and slurs behind it. She made me second guess everything I knew and was.
I hated it. I hated her.
She said, “Those rules aren’t mine. I’m not yours or theirs. I’m telling you how wrong all of this is, yet you shut down the minute I see something normal inside you.”
Growling under my breath, I grabbed the saddlebag and turfed the supplies onto the blanket.
Bolly moved in front of Nila, sniffing at the items as if they were a danger to the woman he’d helped hunt down.
I was a hypocrite?
Look at the bloody dog.
Nila glanced at the packets strewn on the plaid. I shoved the damn dog out of the way, reaching for her.
She ducked, unable to disguise her flash of terror.
My stomach twisted. I bared my teeth. “What? You think I’m going to hurt you?” Breathing hard, I grabbed a blister packet and threw it at her. “I’m not going to hurt you, even though my whip would like to strike something more than just my horse after the issues you’ve caused.”
Her dark eyes met mine, rebellion bright. Then her eyebrow rose as she glanced at what I’d tossed her. “You—”
I snatched the packet and popped out two high-strength painkillers. Stealing her hand, I placed both into her palm. She cupped them instantly.
“You’re hurt. I told you I’m not a monster, Ms. Weaver. Would a beast give you something to mute your pain? The same pain, I might add, that you brought on by yourself?”
Her face went white, her fingers unlocking to peer at the two white tablets. Her face twisted with a mixture of disbelief and utter confusion.
Another dagger to my gut. There was something about her injuries and vulnerabilities that were the perfect chisel to my iron-clad resolve.
The resolve that’d saved me from myself. The lifestyle that I’d been taught when nothing else had worked.
Fuck.
Looking away, I tossed a water bottle at her. She caught it clumsily. Unscrewing the lid, she placed the tablets on her tongue, and drained the contents in three seconds flat. She wiped her mouth, eyeing up the bag by my feet.
Silence existed for a heartbeat. Then two.
Her eyes met mine, granting me something I hadn’t sought to gain. Her gratefulness. The fight and future was forgotten—her bodily needs overtaking everything else. And I was the one who could give her what she needed.
“If you’re looking for food, I have some.”
She swallowed hard.
I forced myself to shove aside my tangled emotions, grabbing my icy persona with both hands. “I need something from you first.”
She grabbed the damn dog again.
I hated how her arms lashed around him, seeking something else she needed—something I couldn’t give her.
I whistled.
Bolly instantly heeled, leaving Nila rejected on the tartan blanket.
She rolled her shoulders, looking longingly at the dog. Slowly, the strength I grew to recognise cloaked her; her eyes met mine. “Fine. What do you want?”
Everything.
The parts of myself I kept hidden, driven so far inside I’d forgotten they’d even existed, sparked with possession.
“You owe me something.”
Her gaze popped wide. “Excuse me?”
I fell to my haunches, balancing myself with a fingertip placed on the ground. My heart beat thickly. “I gave you something in that dining room…remember?”
Her lips curled in disgust. “You gave me to your father and twenty of your so-called brothers.”
I shook my head. “More than that. I gave you freedom. I took their memory and made it mine…” I devoured her with my gaze, saliva filling my mouth remembering her taste.
Realization slammed into her. “You can’t be serious. You expect me to repay the favour?”
I balled my hands.
She shook her head. “No way. You’re insane.”
Insane?
I couldn’t do it.
I’d done my best to be civil. I’d spoken calmly, rationally. I’d been perfectly cordial and fought everything I was to become something I knew I had to be.
I was the exact opposite of insane.
“You really shouldn’t have said that,” I muttered.
She knew what I expected. I’d told her. It wasn’t my fault she was totally stupid. I’d warned her never to question my mental state. And I wouldn’t permit such ridicule from a girl who didn’t recognise the entire world was fucking nuts.
Punish her.
I stood, towering over her. Moving forward, I grabbed the whip from the top of the bag, slapping it against my palm. “On your knees.”
She scurried backward, slamming into a tree behind her. “Jethro. Please—”
I pinched the brow of my nose. “You insulted my mental state again, Ms. Weaver. I told you what would happen the next time you did.” Bending over, I grabbed her shoulder. “On your damn knees.” With a sharp push, I shoved her from sitting to kneeling.
Tears streaked her dirty face. “I didn’t mean—I’m—”
I cocked my head.
If she apologised, I’d stop. Just one little word. A sign that she was permitting my power over her.
It wobbled unsaid between us. Sorry. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.
Her lips tasted the words, the syllables echoed silently in my ears.
But then she ruined it by sucking in a breath and clamping her lips together. With a glare that shot heat straight into my heart, she planted her hands on the blanket, and cocked her hips.
Fuck. Me.
My cock immediately sprang to attention. The perfect lines of her overly skinny body. The pert breasts and hard muscles of her back and thighs.
Shit.
I squeezed my eyes. What the fuck is going on with me?
Sure, I wanted her. Sure, I wanted to use her and come so deep inside her, she’d taste me for days. But lust had never made me see things like this. Never made me lose the fine frost of control. Every second spent with her undid all my hard work.
She was my pet. Her wellbeing and happiness hinged on me. Just like Bolly, Wings, and all the other hounds tethered in the forest just out of ear reach. I’d left them there so I could sneak upon her silently.
I’d known she was up there. I’d felt her eyes boring into me.
But this was all a game.
What was the fun in reaching the destination when the chase was the best part?
Nila looked over her shoulder, daring me with flames in her eyes. “I hate you.”
Her words slammed me back to earth, her fire somehow giving me back my ice. I smiled. “You don’t know the meaning of hate. Not yet.”
Hair fell over her shoulder, hanging thick and enticing. “You’re wrong again, Mr. Hawk. I know the meaning of it. It’s becoming a favourite emotion of mine. I told you before you’ll never own me. And you never will.”
That reminds me.
“I caught you. You agreed you’d willingly sign that nonsense away.”
“What nonsense?”
I fell to my knees, positioning myself behind her. Grasping her hips, I dragged her against my front. My jaw locked as my erection dug into her firm arse.
She cried out, trying to squirm away—not that it did any good.
I hissed between my teeth at the delicious friction she caused.
“You’re mine. You ran and failed. I’ll have the papers drawn up to ensure you know your place, and we can put this idiocy of you not believing this is your future behind us.”
She gasped as I rocked into her, pressing punishingly hard.
Fuck, who was I kidding? She owned me. Her laughable rage, her stupid sense of fairness. Somehow, she’d ensorcelled me.
Fuck.
Forcing my terrifying thoughts away, I said, “I’ve made you come. I gave you a gift, which you took wholeheartedly. It’s your turn to do the same for me.”
The whip grew slippery in my grip as I pulled back. “You have three questions, and I have a point to make. You ask, and I’ll make it. We both get what we want. Then, when it’s all over, we’ll go home and start our lives together.”
“Until you kill me.”
I sighed. Really? She was so repetitive. “Yes, until I kill you. Now, ask your first question.”
She smashed her lips together, thoughts skittering over her face. Fine, if she needed prompting, I would oblige.
The whip was firm—plaited black leather and two supple ends made for shocking with noise rather than pain. Wings was so obedient, he didn’t need it most of the time. It was fitting to use the equipment on something else that needed breaking in.
I stroked her lower back, ignoring her whimper. “You’re green and unbroken, Ms. Weaver. Don’t think I won’t tame you before this game is through.”
I struck.
The sound of the two leather ends snapping together ricocheted through the woods.
She cried out, rolling her hips.
“Question, Ms. Weaver. I’ll keep striking until you ask.”
To prove my point, I hit her again. “That’s for your smart mouth undermining my control in front of my father and brothers.”
Her skin pinked as I struck again. “That’s for riding my hand like I’d given you everything you ever dreamed of, then looking at me as if I was a piece of shit.”
“How long? How long will you keep me alive?” she screamed, staying my hand.
I paused. In all honesty, I didn’t know. Her mother had been my father’s charge for over two years. She’d known her place enough to permit a brief visit to her old family to sever ties once and for all.
I doubted Nila would ever be so well trained, but I didn’t want to rush what we had. After all, once we reached the final debt, it would be over.
And that…didn’t sit well in my gut.
“It depends,” I murmured, stroking her burning skin.
I waited to see if she’d ask another question, but she remained silent. Pliant and listening. Her quietness soothed my nerves, and I allowed myself to give her a little of what she needed.
You’re doing that far too often.
I shot the voice in my head.
“Years, Ms. Weaver. We have years ahead of us.”
Her head sagged, lolling forward. Quietly, another question came. “And the debts? How bad are they? What do I need to prepare for?”
“Ah, ah, ah, I said you could have three questions in total. That was three in one breath. Pick one or forfeit anymore.”
Nila sighed, a small hiccup jolted her frame. “How bad are they?”
I struck her. Short and fast. The noise was worse that the bite. I knew. I’d been on the receiving end myself.
“They start easy. Simple really.”
She sucked in a breath, already knowing what I would add.
“Then they get worse.”
I struck her again, loving the bloom of red and the way every muscle in her sinewy body twitched. Throwing the whip to the ground, I murmured, “One more. Don’t be shy.”
Her breath was ragged. “Will—will you ever be nice to me?”
The question hung between us, so at odds to the scene of her on her hands and knees and me positioned behind her. It wrapped around us with sadness, digging the newly placed dagger deeper into my heart.
“I am nice. Once you get to know me.”
Her small laugh surprised both of us. “You’re a lot of things, but nice is not one of them.”
Anger boiled in my stomach. “You pissed me off before I had the opportunity to be nice. Didn’t I say you deserved to be rewarded after this afternoon? I have many things to lavish you with, Ms. Weaver. You only have to give in. Grant me the power. Give up and stop fighting me.” I stroked her spine, gritting my teeth against the ripple of pre-cum shooting up my cock. Goddammit, she was too delicious. Too strong. Too much.
She’s a Weaver.
I shook my head, dispelling everything until only silence remained.
“You must know I can’t do that. I’ve given up power to men all my life. I stupidly let my father control me, believing he knew what was best for me. And you know what that got me? A one-way ticket to hell to play with a devil I never knew existed.” She looked over her shoulder, making eye contact. “Why should I give you that courtesy? Why should I let you rule the remaining shortness of my sad, little life?”
For once, I was speechless.
Nila murmured, “You can’t reply, because you know this is wrong. On some level, you know the only right thing to do is to let me go and forget about this madness, but you won’t. Just like I won’t give you the power you seek. Just like I will never stop fighting you.”
She suddenly shot forward, breaking my hold on her hips.
My heart raced at the thought of her running again, but she turned to face me, kneeling upright so we were eye-to-eye. The muscles in her stomach shadowed in the rapidly gathering darkness, her white skin glowing with interspersed cuts and bruises.
“You said I owe you. I agree. You gave me something in that dining room. As much as you think you were only helping save my mental state, you showed me more than you probably wanted. I see you, Jethro Hawk. I see what you’re trying to hide, so don’t delude yourself into thinking I buy your hypocritical bullshit.”