Hope Restrained (Estate Series) (9 page)

“You won’t have to. She won’t get that far.”

Aaron blinked. “You can’t be so sure.”

A small iron chandelier came into view when Hope peeked open
her eyes. The room was dark and she was thankful to not have to endure the
light of the sun when first waking up. Her mouth was sticky was dehydration and
her head swam and pounded at the same time. She had no strength to move, but
she didn’t hurt. For once, she couldn’t immediately feel the wound on her
shoulder.

Pulling her arms and legs, she heard the chains just as
quickly as she felt the shackles press into her skin. Opening her eyes wider,
she angled her head down to see that she was stripped bare and completely
exposed. Fury swept over her spine, her heart pounding harder when she
struggled to remember what he’d done. The chains weren’t so tight that she
couldn’t sit up, so she pushed herself up from the mattress, pulling her bents
legs to her chest to cover her nudity. Her eyes traveled around the room; bits
and pieces of the night before echoing in her mind. Candles, his hands, his
mouth … the collar and chain still fastened to her throat. The pounding
headache increased, heat traveling her veins from her anger, her desire to
kill. He’d raped her. Not able to remember, she hoped she’d damaged him in the
process.

She heard him before she saw him, the heavy fall of his
shoes against the floor a warning as he approached. Knowing what he’d done had
sparked her anger, seeing the arrogant smirk that now graced his face stoked that
anger into in a seething fury. Her hands fisted and her fingernails cut into
the skin of her palms. Her shoulders and back tensed and she ground her teeth,
willing daggers into every vital organ of his body.

“You look absolutely stunning this morning. How are you
feeling?”

He was gloating and she wanted to rip the expression right
off his handsome face. “You drugged me you fucking bastard!” The words were
choked in her parched throat, but she spit them out anyway. If she weren’t in
chains, she’d find something around the room to slice him open.

“You’re much more agreeable when drugged. You should do it
more often. I think we’d get along a lot better that way.” He winked.

“You are a pathetic excuse for a man.”

He stalked towards her, placing both hands on the mattress
so he could press his forehead against hers. “You were the one begging me. I
must admit, your body is the most responsive I’ve ever had the pleasure to enjoy.”
His lips felt like silk across hers when he kissed her, his tongue peeking out
to slide across the crease of her lips.

Red blinding anger burst within her and she pulled away. Bringing
her arm over, she hit him in the side of the head with the shackle around her
wrist. Her leg wrapped around his, tangling him in the chains he’d used to
restrain her.

He cursed quickly before grabbing the chain at her throat,
and pulling her over as he fell backwards. His weight was enough to force her
to move her leg, and he made quick work of the small length of chain she’d
managed to wrap around him. Backing off the bed, he kept the chain on her
collar wrapped around his palm and pulled her into a position where her arms
were stretched out behind her from the shackles and her torso was bent forward.
She was powerless to move and he chuckled above her.

“That’s one hell of a way to wish me a good morning. And
here I was trying to be playful. Maybe if you apologize and promise you’ll
behave, I’ll release this chain and let you up.”

“I’ll never fucking
behave
for a man so pathetic he has to drug women in order to rape them.”

Keeping the chain taut, he approached her, leaning down and
blowing his breath across her angry skin. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he
whispered, “You’ve behaved for me quite well already, the means by which I brought
about that result is unimportant, just the fact that I did.” Pushing closer, he
added, “You begged me to break you, and I still have every fucking intention of
doing just that. You should let go of your stubbornness and allow me to do it
in a way that benefits us both.” Pulling away from her he released the chain
and allowed her out of the uncomfortable position. She rolled her shoulder back
and he grimaced to think what that had just done to the healing wound.

She glared up at him, the cut of his jaw causing flashbacks
of the previous night to play in her head; the candlelight across his skin, his
teeth buried in her flesh. She looked down at her inner thigh and saw the angry
bruise from where he’d bitten her, a shiver rolling through her body to
remember what he’d made her feel. Her body fought against her, hatred and
contempt mixed with a nagging ache for the torment of his hands.

“I’ll make you behave in other ways as well. I’ll fight you
today and once I win, you’ll tell me what I want to fucking know and then I’ll
do with you as I see fit following that.”

“Just unchain me and let’s get this over with.” The gold of
her eyes shot to his, the color blinding hot from her rage.

His expression darkened and his lids hooded. “So eager.” He blinked
as if bored. “But first, let’s take care of some of your body’s
other
needs.” Grabbing the belt from the
table next to him, he held it up to show her. “I’m going to need to put you
back in this. If you resist, it’ll only delay the freedom you keeping
requesting, so I suggest you cooperate.”

She glared.

He smiled.

“I’d take you by just the leash, let you crawl on the floor
in front of me like the dangerous and exotic animal that you are, but I can’t
trust that you won’t try to kill me too soon. I’d hate for our fight to begin
while you’re still so weak from lack of water and food. Plus, a good hit to the
bladder and things could get messy.” He chuckled darkly. “Nobody wants that.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I’m an ass with a valid point. So do yourself a favor and
behave
when I place your hands in this
belt.” He approached her and bent over to secure the belt around her waist. Releasing
one of her hands at a time, he secured them to the belt. She considered lashing
out at him, or strangling him with the chain, but if he was releasing her
today, there was no point in starting the bullshit now.

He tugged on the chain at her neck. “Let’s go.”

~
   
~
   
~

“You’re insane for doing this, Xander. And if she does
succeed against you, despite your arrogant fucking belief that she won’t, I
will not allow her out of this mansion if she’s still breathing. I don’t care
what
deal
you made with her, I’m not
a part of it.” Aaron escorted Xander down the mansion corridors to a work out
area in the back section of the building. After taking Hope to the bathroom, he’d
given her water — unadulterated — and some food to settle her
stomach and give her some strength. He didn’t tell Aaron that part.

“You’re sure she’s weak?”

“I’m flattered by your vote of confidence in my ability as a
fighter. Seriously, stop, you’re making me blush.” Xander’s were spoken drolly,
indicative of his annoyance. He’d sparred against Aaron for practically his
entire life, not to mention fought and survived hundreds of attacks inside and outside
of The Estate compound, there was no reason for Aaron to believe he couldn’t
win against Hope.

Aaron stopped and turned to Xander. “From what you and Maddy
say, she’s like me. If that’s the case, then when you get in that room, you’ll
be dealing with a person who feels nothing but a desire to kill. She’ll be a
machine and she’ll take advantage of every weakness you have, probably the
biggest one being that you obviously have a thing for her. Will you be able to
kill her if it means you’ll live?”

“She amuses me — number one — and, number two, it
won’t come to that.” It was the only answer Xander could give. In his mind,
there were no other options but to win.

Aaron scoffed. “If she was simply
amusing
, you wouldn’t have threatened Jason’s life last night.” He
gave Xander a pointed look. “I’ll be outside the doors. I’d tell you to yell if
you need help, but if it got to that point, you’d be dead before I could open
the door.”

Xander patted him on the back. “A simple ‘good luck’ would
have been a nicer thing to say.”

Aaron’s brow arched over his eye and he pulled the door
open. Walking in, Xander heard it close behind him and he stared at Hope who
stood near the other end of the large space. She was dressed in the sweat pants
and shirt he’d given her when they’d been in his room. They were two sizes too
large for her and he wondered how well she’d be able to move while wearing
them. Crossing the room with dread weighing on his shoulders, excitement also
ignited in other areas of his body. He remembered how she was absolutely
sensual in the way she moved, in the way she fought. He looked forward to experiencing
it again.

~
   
~
   
~

Hopes eyes tracked Xander as he approached. Dressed in a
snug cotton shirt and military style cargo pants tucked into his boots, he
walked casually across the floor, looking like he was ready to spar more so
than fight for his life.

“Will there be weapons?” She prayed to get her hand on a
blade. After she’d woken up that morning, she realized how much time had passed
since she’d seen Honor. While she waited for hours in the room to be brought to
this gym, she imagined in horror the things being done to her sister. Hope’s
heart shredded inside her chest and her throat thickened at the idea that
things could have gone too far, that Honor couldn’t endure, that she could be
dead.

“Not sure you can beat me without the use of steel? I
thought they would have taught you better than that.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, hatred rubbing against her
thoughts and nerves, but dotted with heat, with an ache for something he’d done
the night before. “It would make things quicker if I could remove your head
with one clean slice instead of having to tear it off.”

He smiled in response and her body shuddered like it
remembered him — his touch, his bite, the feeling of him tearing through
her, filling her. She fought to shake it off, remembered that she had only one
person that was important, and that person depended on her escape. Images of
her sister growing up had been battering at her mind since Honor disappeared. Their
childhood hadn’t been easy. There had never been much light in their lives, but
what did exist was because of Honor. Losing her life now that she was old
enough to leave these wretched networks would be a cruelty of fate from which
Hope would never recover. She had no choice but to kill the man that stood in
front of her.

“Should we establish a rule that you refrain from tearing
into me as I’m releasing you from the belt, or is it safe for me to assume that
you will attempt to kill me with only one hand free?”

“You’re a dick.”

“You would know,” he growled in response, allowing his eyes
to slowly travel over her body.

She was suddenly glad she was going to kill him. His fucking
arrogance had pushed on her last nerve. He looked down at the belt and used a
key he’d retrieved from his pocket to unlock it from around her waist. All she
needed was one hand free and she could end things quickly, use the key herself
in order to free the other hand once he was dead or incapacitated. Her response
to the small metallic click was instantaneous. She immediately went for his
face, hoping to cause enough damage to his eyes to give her time to use the
chains to finish him off.

But he was too fast.

Her wrist went from the shackle directly to the iron grip of
his hand. He caught her, had anticipated that she would strike out immediately
once freed. His other hand gripped around her throat and within a second he had
her pressed to a wall with every inch of her body completely immobile beneath
his. His forehead pressed tightly to hers.

“Do not think that I’ll go easy on you, Hope. I know you
will end my life if given half a fucking chance.”

Her gold eyes looked up suddenly into the stormy twilight of
his.

“I’ve already had you once, so it wouldn’t be a complete
loss if you were to suffer a severe enough injury to prevent me from fucking
you again. I’m not afraid to hurt you.” He let go of her throat and brushed his
finger over the tip of her nose. “You never know, you might like it.”

An aggravating mixture of rage and lust, hatred and need,
coursed through her blood. She was still weak, lethargic; but the added shiver
that his touch produced on her skin, or the way his smell ignited something
deep within her core, she couldn’t allow those feelings to affect the fight
— to cloud her thoughts or make her hesitate in her actions.

Breathe in … Breathe
out …

Slow, steady, methodical. She calmed her body, her mind. When
she no longer struggled against him, he released her and stepped back to unlock
the remaining shackle from her wrist. His messy brown hair fell across his
forehead and into his eyes, his broad shoulders flexed with each small movement
he made with his hands, and when the last metal shackle fell from around her
wrist, the back of his hand came up.

The impact with her face was hard to enough to knock her
several feet from where she’d been standing.

It was a cheap shot, but one he used to introduce her to the
fight. He wasn’t lying when he warned her that he wouldn’t go easy. He
understood that she was lethal — even injured and weak, she was a person
who should not be underestimated.

She recovered from the hit quickly, pushing herself back up
into a standing position in one fluid and graceful motion. She moved the same
way a person would dance, long sweeping motions, with a quiet speed that made
you believe she cut the air like a sharpened blade. Her eyes narrowed in his
direction, but not from anger. No. She was studying him, plotting how she’d
overcome his strength and size. He recognized her behavior, her motions —
he’d fought against the same almost every day while growing up.

She stood stock still, the silence in the room pressing
against his ears, the rush of blood in his head, the only audible noise. He
anticipated that she’d rush forward to attack him, her hands set in a way to
render damage where they came in contact with his body; but when she pivoted to
turn, when her long legs powered her in the opposite direction and towards the
exit doors, his brows shot up and he launched forward to stop her from opening
the doors where Aaron waited.

“Fuck!”

His feet pounded across the floor of the gym, his strides
barely longer than hers. He noticed how she appeared to hover as she ran, her
feet never touching the ground beneath her. When she neared the door, her arm
extended out in front of her body ready to throw the door open wide, and ready
to open a door that would lead to her death. He sped up, the muscles in his
thighs working his body forward. Her fingertips touched the wood, pushing it
open just before he wrapped his arms around her, tackling her to the ground. Rolling
over each other, he felt her fingernails cut across his face while he attempted
to move their bodies into a position where he’d trap her beneath him — where
he’d have the advantage. He raised his head in time to see Aaron’s green eyes
looking in the room just before the door closed.

Once Xander had regained control, he pinned Hope beneath
him, using the weight of his body to restrain hers, the strength of his arms to
hold hers. She was a slippery bitch, her body able to bend and contort in such
a way, that she was able to slide out from his grasp. When her closed fist beat
against his temple, he flinched against it and moved to avoid it. She took the
shift in his weight as an opportunity to move out from beneath him. She
attempted to scramble to her feet and he grabbed her ankle, only for her to
twist around and plant the heel of her foot between his eyes.

Pain thundered along his skull from the kick and he was disoriented
for the brief second she took to kick out again, catching him in the shoulder. Flame
burst out over the skin where he’d been hit, but he rolled over, pushing
himself up, keeping low and lunging forward, wrapping himself around her waist,
bringing her back to the ground where their weight difference worked to his
benefit.

Catching her wrists in his hands, he squeezed knowing the
bones of her wrist could snap from his strength. He felt the shiver flow
through her body from the pain he inflicted. Pinning her hands above her head,
he spread her legs apart with his own, holding them open with his knees while
wrapping his feet over hers. She was trapped beneath him, the wound to her
shoulder still rendering one of her arms useless against him. Pressing forward
he allowed the heat between her legs to slide over him while his eyes hungrily
took in the way her body reacted to his touch.

She sneered beneath him, still struggling to free herself of
the hold. If he’d intended to kill her, he’d have done so right then, but those
were not the plans he had for the feral beauty pinned down by his body. Bringing
his face lower, he ran his nose along her skin. “Are you ready to admit defeat,
or should I ravage you further?”

A growl emanated from her chest and he smiled to know she
wasn’t ready to give up, that she may never be ready until she’d been beat
fully into submission. A task he had every intention of accomplishing.

He hardened almost instantly to feel her bare breasts brush
against his chest from beneath the thin shirt he’d given her to wear, to feel
as her labored breath pushed their bodies tighter together. Pressing forward
more, he rubbed between her legs and he could see the fight in her eyes to
resist the rush of sexual need he was adding to the already physically charged
encounter. He let his guard down for a split second to savor her reaction and
she bucked up, twisting suddenly so that she threw him off balance. Her body
moved like liquid as she moved from beneath, attempting to crawl to a point where
she could push up. Turning quickly, he moved over her, his chest pressed to her
back, only for his head to be met with the bone of her elbow, the resultant
crack shooting like lightning through his skull. He released her only for a
second and she stood up, turning immediately, her feet held in a fighting
stance her gold eyes glowing with lustful furry. She was fully awake, that much
was certain, and despite her weaknesses, she was intent to win. Even as pain
pounded through his head, he smiled, always impressed with the willpower, the
sheer carnal need within her to not be tamed.

He noticed how she favored her right side, holding her torso
in a way that hinted of a cracked rib or torn muscle. If it were his intent to
kill, he’d use the injury against his opponent, but not her. He wanted her
whole, her body intact, he wanted to deliver the pain and darkness she craved,
but not by destroying the perfection of her form.

Her eyes tracked him when he pushed up to his feet. They
circled each other, their skill matched, her speed a perfect counter to his
strength.

“I think playtime is over, don’t you?”

The brows furrowed over her enraged eyes. “It’s been fun.” The
tone of her words could have sliced his skin.

He laughed at her response and lunged forward. Reaching out,
he gripped her hair in his hand just as her fist hit heavily against his cheek
and her knee impacted with the inside of his thigh. Twisting the silken threads
between his fingers, he extended his arm — pulling, dragging and
launching her across the room, the force of his throw so hard that her body
slid after impacting with the floor. It was time to end this.

She rolled over and crawled away from of him. Her arm was
weak from her shoulder and she held her side with her other arm. Her body moved
sluggishly and he knew she’d come into this fight already weak. It hadn’t been
fair, but fairness had never been his intent.

He walked behind her as he teased, “That’s right, Sunshine
— crawl for me.”

Giving her time to continue to fight, to continue to push herself
up, only to fall back to the ground when the combined injuries had become too
much to allow her to move quickly. When he stood above her, he reached down,
grabbing her hair again and flipping her over. She looked up at him, the haze
of the hell she’d gone through the last few days clouding her gaze. “I’ve won,
Sunshine. It’s about time I take my prize.”

She hissed out her response. “I fucking hate you.”

He smiled. “You won’t be saying that much longer.”

He dropped one knee to the ground on her right, before
lowering down on the left. Straddling her, he watched as she became lost inside
a wave of pain. Her skin prickled and flushed and he grabbed her by the throat
pulling her into a seated position, pressing her back against the wall behind
her. His other hand reached to slide beneath her shirt, up along her skin until
he pinched the tip of her breast hard enough to add to the deluge of pain. Her
eyes rolled back, her mouth opening in a silent cry. He was rock hard within
seconds.

“I’ve taken you drugged, and now I’m taking you after giving
you the opportunity to fight back. I’ve defeated you, Hope. Accept it.” Leaning
down, he growled into her ear. “Consider yourself owned, beautiful.”

Releasing her breast, he ripped the pants from her body, his
hands coming up to find skin swollen and ready for his touch. “I love a girl
who gets turned on by a fight.” Forcefully, he slipped his fingers over the
skin, forcing them inside. She cried out and he lowered his head to bite down
into her skin, to mark her, to claim her, to take control over a body he would
never let escape.

Her body bucked and quivered beneath him, her hands moving
up to wrap within the thickness of his hair. Her fingers twisted in deeper as
he nipped along her skin, kissing the sting before moving to the next spot; his
hand working in a slow rhythm against her. Her muscles loosened and he let go
of her throat to rip his own pants from his body, to grasp her hip, lifting
her, then sliding her over him, spearing himself inside her heat. Her head fell
back and he reached up, twisting his hands tighter into her hair, pulling her
head back, her chest forward, and bending down to bite her breast through the
thin cotton of her shirt.

~
   
~
   
~

She didn’t want to melt around him. She didn’t want her body
to grip him, desperate for him to move; but her body was a traitor and her mind
was overcome by the mixture of pleasure and pain, adrenaline and endorphins, by
the chilling heat of his body mixed with the biting cold of her loss of
control.

Like a sedative injected in her system, her body relaxed
when the first bits of electricity coursed along her nerves. The sensation of
being filled, of being bitten; he’d seized her body and mind, rendering her
loose and malleable in his arms. Floating within a cloud of sensation and heat,
her lips parted to release a guttural moan, something that her body had
produced to relieve her of the waves of passion and pain that consumed her.

Raising his head from her breast, she groaned at the loss,
only to open her eyes and notice how he smirked up at her, fully aware how he
drove her body without gaining permission from her mind.

“No worries, beautiful girl. I’ll give you what you need.
But first …” His hips swiveled beneath, stretching her, invading her. “… I’m
taking what I want.”

With one hand on her, he forced her hips tight to his; his fingers
traveling up her back, the tips digging against the bruised and overworked muscles.
She responded out of instinct, her body moving in a carnal rhythm, desire
sparked by violence and stoked by her ache for darkness and abject need.

His hands gripped into her hair again, pulling her head back
and exposing her neck as he trailed his lips across the taut skin, nipping and
kissing away the pain it caused. Small moans escaped her lips, but when those
sounds grew louder and wilder, he covered her mouth taking not only her body,
but her breath as well.

She came apart suddenly and her mind splintered; the shards
strewn and scattered. She opened her eyes to see the heat in his, his own mind
obviously lost to his domination of her — to the possibility of taming
her. It had been systematic — her body, her mind, her ability to defend
herself. Methodically, he’d conquered her. And now, as his touch destroyed her,
he gave her life at the same time. She awakened in his arms, ripped from the
obscurity she sought and thrown into a world of sensation, of ecstasy, of a dream
hidden within a nightmare.

His entire body tensed when he found his release and she
split apart to feel him swell inside her and his teeth bite down onto her
exposed neck. Forcing parts of her darkness out of her, he replaced it with his
own. Her mouth opened and a scream burst from her chest and throat. She was
marked — she was defeated — and she was now hopelessly and
irrevocably owned.