Echo: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Bleeding Hearts Book 1) (9 page)

“But do you know what I realized that day, Brighton?” he asked. “I think you like to be hunted.”

His hands came down around my hips and squeezed the flesh of my ass. “You like the rough way I treat you, don’t you? Like to be used as I see fit.”

I whimpered beneath him but didn’t respond. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter what punishment he wanted to dole out, I would never admit defeat to this twisted son of a bitch.

He let out an impatient sigh, followed by the distinctive sound of a belt buckle being tugged from his pants.

My legs shook, and I was finding it difficult to keep my composure. Thinking I was strong was one thing, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t. I’d grown up in a rough neighborhood, and I’d been bullied more times than I could count. I was forever being called scum and teased for my red hair. They were just words, but they hurt all the same. If it wasn’t the kids, it was Norma-Jean slapping me around. I thought those things had toughened me up, made my armor impenetrable. I was wrong. Because right now, I was terrified.

His fingers trailed along my spine and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shhh…” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the back of my neck. “It’s okay, baby girl. Just breathe for me.”

I took a couple deep breaths, and he kissed his way back down my spine, distracting me. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want him to be gentle or try to comfort me when he was playing these sick games.

“You have a beautiful back,” he murmured. “Every part of you is beautiful, but this…” He pressed his fingers into the dimples on my lower back and squeezed. “This was meant to be naked.”

Something else trailed along my skin then, and it wasn’t his fingers. It was soft, yet hard at the same time. Leather.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took another deep breath, willing myself to stay calm.
I could do this. I could do this. I had to do this.

“Do you remember what I said in the agreement about your body?” he asked.

“How could I forget?”

A small sting spread across my skin when he tapped it with the belt. “I’m not playing games here, Brighton. When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

“You said my body belongs to you,” I snarled.

He laughed then, stroking his hands over my back again. He couldn’t seem to stop touching it.

“That attitude is going to get you nowhere,” he replied. “But nonetheless, it does amuse me that you still think you’re above admitting it. Am I not up to your standards, my little lotus flower? The high and mighty daughter of Frank Gallo thinks she is too good for me?”

There was clear venom in his words, and it was obvious he was taunting me. It had the intended effect.

“You think you know so much about me?” I spat. “You didn’t do your homework well enough because he was never anything more than a sperm donor. Now let’s get this over with.”

“Very well.” His voice was pure silk now. “I’m going to count to ten,” he explained. “And every time I strike you, I want you to repeat part four of our agreement, verbatim. Do you remember what that is, Brighton?”

“My body is yours to do with as you please,” I stated blandly.

“That’s it,” he praised me. “See, I knew you were a clever girl. But don’t stumble over the words or forget to say it, because if you do, that means we have to start over. Understand?”

“Perfectly,” I snapped.

I wasn’t prepared. I thought he was going to draw it out longer as he seemed to be relishing that idea today. So when the first strike sang down against my ass, his voice sounded like it was under water when he counted the first blow.

I reared up in surprise, and he pushed me right back down with a firm palm in the center of my back.

“Forgetting something?” he asked.

“My body is yours to do with as you please,” I panted.

“Good girl.”

It didn’t really hurt the first time. I learned that the second time when he hit me harder in a different place. It was more the shock of it than anything, but my natural instinct was to try to get away.

He swatted me harder still and grabbed my hips to pull me back into place. “You’re making it harder than it has to be, Brighton,” he admonished. “Now we have to start over.”

I whimpered, but I learned my lesson. I clamped my jaw and curled my fingers into the bedspread if I needed to, but I never moved. And with every number he rattled off, I echoed his claim on my body. With every blow, my skin flooded with warmth, and my voice raised to a crescendo.

I was on fire, everywhere. My core ached, and even my breasts were heavy and full. I didn’t understand it. But somewhere along the way, the discomfort had subsided. I had transcended the pain and embraced a euphoric high I’d never even known existed.

It wasn’t until I heard myself moan that I realized the belt was long gone. In its place was him, thrusting into me so hard he sounded possessed. I was still screaming out part four of our agreement with every thrust. I couldn’t stop myself, and it was driving him out of his fucking mind.

His teeth scraped down along my spine, his fingers biting into my hips. He kept telling me how good I felt. How beautiful I was. How much he liked to degrade me. His voice was nothing but a husky whisper in my ear, his breath ragged in his chest. He fucked me like I was the only thing that mattered to him. The only thing that ever mattered. The exchange of power was intoxicating. I was in control now, and there was nothing that could stop my descent into oblivion.

Or so I thought.

I was on the verge of exploding when he stopped, making me whimper in frustration. My orgasm was the only thing I had to look forward to during this exchange, and he was taking it away from me.

“Not yet.”

He was determined to show me who was in control here, and I was determined not to let it be him. But when his thumb started working against my clit, my body won out over my mind.

I bucked against him and cried out for my release when he stopped again.

“Please,” I begged, rocking my hips upward. I was so sensitive I didn’t think I would survive if he didn’t free me from this agony.

“You want to come?” he asked softly.

I didn’t reply. Because as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Cool air settled over my skin when he pulled away, and for a minute, I worried that he was going to punish me again. But after a few adjustments, the heat of his breath skated over my inner thighs. With the first lick, he had me on the edge. Again. He teased me with the softest of touches before pulling away.

He flipped me onto my back and left me lying there, flushed and on the verge of a psychotic break. I never knew that I could want something so much, but I did. I was worse than Norma with her pills.
What the hell was happening to me?

I wanted to scream. I fisted the covers in my hands when he pushed himself back inside of me. His lips were on mine a moment later, covered in my arousal, but I didn’t care. I kissed him back fiercely, punishing him the only way I could as I nipped at his lips and tugged on his hair. He thrived on my reaction, giving it back just as good as he got. His teeth pulled at my lip until I tasted blood, which he sucked into his mouth with a groan.

I sank my nails into his back, and he responded by wrapping his hand around my throat in warning. For some crazy reason, it was making me wet. This vicious romp. The savagery of our connection. He had tapped into a part of my psyche that I didn’t know was there. The part of me that liked the pain and fucked up things he was doing to me.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against me. “Tell me who you wish was inside of you right now. Making you come.”

I froze at his request. He couldn’t honestly expect me to answer that.

His thumb found my clit again, so swollen and sensitive that tears leaked from my eyes. I needed my release, and he was intentionally torturing me. It shouldn’t have surprised me. He was
the worst kind of evil. A predator, and probably a sadist too. I knew this, and yet I kept forgetting whenever he touched me.

“Tell me,” he urged, nipping my ear as I bucked against him.

His cock glided in and out of me with agonizing gentleness while his hands explored my body. Somewhere along the line he had gained back control, and he was intent on proving it.

“It’s a simple request,” he insisted. “A name, Brighton. There must be someone.”

I shook when he bottomed out inside of me, taking me to the brink of destruction once more.

“Please,” I rasped. “Please, just let me…”

“A name.” He captured my lip between his teeth. “I need a name. Then you can come as many times as you like.”

He kissed his way down to my nipple and flicked it with his tongue. My eyes rolled back as I melted into the bed.

“Ryland!” I screamed. “Ryland Bennett.”

He grunted and slammed into me so hard I thought I might break. His teeth sank into my neck, causing a cataclysm of pain and release. It was cathartic. Poetic. Beautiful. The demon inside of me smiled in satisfaction when my scream echoed off the walls.

I’d barely finished when he let loose a vicious string of curses, his cock pulsing wildly as he emptied himself inside of me.

He collapsed on top of me, his legs still tangled in mine, his breath ragged. I expected him to say something once his breathing had calmed, but he didn’t.

Not a word about my mortifying confession, or anything else. I wondered if he was angry. Would he hurt Ryland? The thought crossed my mind. I had no idea what his motives were. It was one thing to mess with me, but if he involved innocent people, I wouldn’t be able to cope.

“What are you going to do?” I whispered.

“What do you mean?” his voice was soft. Relaxed. And he was still inside me.

“About what I told you,” I said. “You won’t… do anything to him, right?”

“Would you care if I did?”

“Of course I would.” I quivered. “You can’t drag other people into this. That wasn’t part of the agreement…”

“I know.” He toyed with my lip. “I’m not going to do anything, Brighton. There are very few things I don’t know about you. That was one of them.”

“Oh.”

I really didn’t know what to say to that. What we were doing was already so intimate. And yet he wanted to get into my psyche, uncover my darkest secrets. But why? It was unfair. I didn’t know anything about him at all.

He went to move away, and I pulled him back, gripping his forearm.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Please what?” his voice was colder now. More distant. But I wasn’t going to let it scare me. I wouldn’t let him win this game. I needed to figure out who he was, by any means possible.

“I don’t even know what you look like,” I said.

“You didn’t want to,” he retorted. “That’s the thing about actions and words. Once they are said and done, they can’t be taken back.”

“Just let me… touch you,” I pleaded. “Let me see you in the only way that I can.”

There was such a long pause, I wondered if I’d made a mistake by requesting such a thing. But then he rolled over, taking me with him. When he relaxed, I was straddling him, and my palms were flat against his shoulders.

“By all means,” he bit out, “touch me, Brighton. But don’t think you’re fooling me for a second.”

I swallowed the strange lump that had formed in my throat and started with his hands. They were much bigger than mine, and I had the sudden realization of how much he could hurt me with those hands if he ever wanted to.

I tried not to think about it as I felt my way down his forearms and up his biceps. Right away, I concluded these were the arms of a working man. Either that or someone who spent a lot of time in the gym. He was warm and hard everywhere I touched, even in his relaxed state. But that changed when my hands glided over his chest. It wasn’t just muscle there, it was something else too. I ran my fingers over the jagged skin several times before I understood they were scars. And when I touched them, his entire body stiffened.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“That’s enough.” He slid out from beneath me and pulled away.

I landed in an unceremonious heap on the bed, expecting him to leave. There was a familiar shuffling as he dressed himself. And when he clasped his belt buckle back into place, it had the strangest effect inside of my belly. Warmth.

That warmth was swiftly carried away when he wrapped something rough around my wrist.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He didn’t respond. He simply pulled whatever it was taut before walking to the other side of the bed, repeating the action on my other wrist. By the time he was through, both my arms were strung high above my head. I couldn’t move them at all when he stepped away, and my skin prickled with sweat.

“Do you remember when I asked you earlier if you were ready to be redeemed?”

“Yes.” I gulped.

“Well guess what, Brighton?” he snarled. “There isn’t anything you could ever do to be redeemable in my eyes.”

It was the last thing he said before he walked out of the room.

Chapter Nine

I woke with puffy eyes and a splitting headache.

Every inch of my body groaned in protest when I tried to move. My arms were so weak I thought they were numb. That could be the only reason I didn’t feel the awful pain in my shoulders and wrists.

All night I had struggled to get free. My wrists were chafed and probably bloody from the rope he used to tie me. I was humiliated and terrified. I was certain he was going to leave me for the hotel staff to find in the morning.

But when I moved my arm again and nothing protested, I sat up slowly. The blindfold was still on, and I tore it off, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness of the room. The clothes I’d worn to the hotel weren’t there, but on the table across the room sat some shopping bags and a silver tray.

I limped across the carpet, feeling the discomfort in every step. I’d never been so sore.

When I reached the table, I found a note.

Brighton,

You looked too beautiful to wake this morning, but I would like another photo today.