Black Wings & Stolen Things: Chapter 15


My head is pounding, and my limbs feel like they’re made of stone. It’s a battle to fight the thick fog lurking around in my brain. It’s an even bigger battle to get my eyelids to cooperate. Panic sets in when I finally manage to crack them open and I’m met with nothing but darkness. While the rational part of me knows I haven’t gone blind, I still anxiously try to reach for my face to make sure. My leaden arms only manage to move an inch or so before the restraints wrapped around my wrists halt any further movement.

Okay… now I’m freaking out.

As the reality of my situation sinks in, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like fire burns away the drug-induced haze I’ve been left in. The memory of Emeric’s stupidly handsome face—the blood on his lip only made him sexier, by the way—looking down at me as the needle sunk into my neck flashes in my mind. He drugged me, and now I’m restrained and blindfolded.

The recovered awareness I now have over my body tells me I’m spread out in the shape of an X on a bed covered in silk sheets. Thick cuffs are not only locked around my wrists but also my ankles, keeping me in this vulnerable—exposed—position. The cool breeze against my skin also alerts me to the fact that I’m very much naked.

So, to recap how my day’s gone, I’ve been kidnapped, married off, drugged, and now I’m restrained while rocking my birthday suit.

That’s it, it’s decided. I’m going to kill my husband.


Emeric Banes is my husband. What the actual hell? Today has been a fever dream and I⁠—

“There you are,” his voice comes from the dark void engulfing me. With my sense of sight stripped away, my hearing is amplified, and his rasp feels like a sensual caress against my skin. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so we can play.”

“Play?” I growl, thrashing my body against the restraints. The material locked around my extremities isn’t made of metal, but it still bites into my skin as I fight against them. “Sure, let me go and we can play. I can show you just how fucking fun I am.”

My air gets trapped in my throat when his fingertips touch the center of my chest and begin to slowly trace down. Between the valley of my breasts and then around my navel. Goosebumps erupt in the wake of that light touch.

“Oh, my sweet Rionach. I already know how much fun you can be. That’s never been a mystery to me.” Emeric’s fingers tread farther south. His touch is still featherlight as he traces a line back and forth between each of my hip bones. He doesn’t delve any lower to where my pussy is exposed to him, even though I know he could. In this position, I am well and truly at his mercy. “What I do want to know is how far I can push you before you start begging. For me to give you more. For me to stop. I want to hear you beg for both.”

Despite the anger simmering in my belly at him and the stunt he pulled today, my body still grows warm and my core clenches with a rapidly growing need at his words. I’m quickly becoming that problematic mixture of terrified and aroused that turns me into a puddle of goo at his feet.

“I already told you I don’t beg,” I grind out, my hips shifting in a futile attempt to evade his touch. I need my body and mind to get back on the same page about what we think about him, and the feel of his fingers against my warming skin isn’t helping matters. “And I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

The bed dips to my left as his body comes to kneel beside me. I’m forced to choke down my gasp of surprise when his lips skim the shell of my ear. “Liar,” he hums wickedly. “But that’s okay. I know the truth. I know how your body comes alive at my touch.”

“It does not.” Do I sound like an indignant child? Maybe.

I all but come out of my skin when the fingers that had been constantly tracing that line across my pelvis trail lower and dip into that aching place between my thighs. A low groan rattles Emeric’s chest at the same time I lose my battle and let out a desperate moan. Two thick fingers deliciously stretch me but it’s still not enough. It does little to alleviate the ache that has been building since I first heard his voice.

“You can lie and tell me how much you don’t want me, but this sweet pussy of yours will always betray you.” The mouth on this man makes me feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. It’s not fair. He’s not fighting fair. “Look how wet you already are for me, Rionach, and I’ve barely touched you.”

He pulls his digits from my pussy. Any protest from me immediately dies when his fingertips, covered in my arousal, trace over my bottom lip, coating it. It happens without conscious thought when my tongue darts out and licks up the wetness there.

“Do you like the taste of yourself?” His question is followed by the unmistakable sound of him sucking his fingers clean. “It’s been a week since I’ve last tasted you and every single day since then, I’ve thought about burying my tongue in your cunt. I’m like a heroin addict constantly thinking about my next fix.” His palm comes down on my core in a punishing slap, making my back bow and all the air rush out of my lungs. “My drug of choice just happens to be this sweet pussy.”

My only response is a low groan. It’s the only noise I can manage to make as my brain short-circuits. I’ll be the first one to admit that my sexual experience is basically nonexistent, but I’ve spent a fair amount of time fantasizing about what it could be like. Not once during any of those illicit daydreams did being slapped on my pussy cross my mind. The very thought of it sounds painful and borderline degrading. And yet, here I am panting over it.

His fingers return to where I need them most. This time he makes slow, methodical circles around my clit. It’s not enough to tumble me over the edge. It’s just enough contact to make me feel desperate.

The voice in my head keeps trying to remind me of the fact that I’m furious at this man and don’t want him to be touching me like this, but with each torturous skilled touch, that voice grows quieter and quieter. Until it’s silent.

Much to my displeasure, the mattress shifts again as he moves away from me, and a second later I hear him move to stand at the end of the bed. While I can’t physically see him, the hairs rising all over my flesh tell me he’s standing there staring at my bound and exposed body. My legs are pulled far enough apart that he has the perfect view of my most intimate places. At this vulnerable thought, my knees try to pull together again, but it’s no use.

“Being shy around me is a waste of our time. You’re now my wife. Each and every beautiful inch of your body now belongs to me, and I plan on meticulously spending my time making sure you and everyone else knows that.” His hands skim up my calves, making me jump and shiver at the same time. “All of this is mine. It’s all for me.”

“I’m not yours.” I manage to put a semblance of strength into my voice even though I’m quaking with need for this psychotic man. “You may have stolen me, but that doesn’t make me yours, Banes. Now get your fucking hands off me.”

I can’t be sure if I sound believable. All I do know is that I don’t believe myself.

The way he chuckles has my heart beating faster, pumping a new dose of delicious adrenaline into my system. That wasn’t an amused noise. No, it was a laugh that promises something wicked.

“Okay, I’ll take my hands off you.” His easy agreement tells me I just fucked up and the sudden buzzing noise coming from where he stands at my feet confirms it.

He climbs back onto the bed and positions himself between my spread legs. I can barely hear the buzzing now over the blood rushing in my ears as anticipation courses through me. At the first touch of the vibrator against my aching clit, I yank so hard on all four restraints I know I’m going to walk away from this with bruises. The bite of them on my skin becomes a vague sensation as waves of pleasure creep through every nerve ending in my body.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out before sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing the pleasure he instills. It’s my weak and very desperate attempt to not give fully in to him.

Emeric presses the vibrating device against me and holds it there until stars start to form behind my eyelids. My entire body is shaking, building toward a violent release, but before I can crest the euphoric peak, he removes it from my pussy.

The distressed whimper that comes from me is a noise I barely recognize.

“What a pretty sound,” Emeric praises. “Let’s see if I can make you do it again.”

“No,” I breathlessly say, head shaking. “I won’t.”

“You will.”

He doesn’t press the vibrator back to my clit like before. The toy must be shaped in a U because Emeric slides one end of the silicone device into me and the other end rests against that bundle of nerves he left throbbing. It’s a kind of pleasure I’ve never experienced before, but one I know is going to drive me fucking crazy. With my hands bound and my legs locked in place, I’m forced to endure every agonizingly delectable vibration until he decides I’ve had enough.

What a terrifying and exhilarating thing to be completely and thoroughly at Emeric Banes’s mercy.


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