getting in one of those jeeps and following you. You’re not going alone and that’s final.”
His curse was long, loud, and fluent, but when X stomped out the door Caprise was right on his heels.
Chapter 25
He hadn’t looked back, hadn’t spoken a word on the long drive from Havenway to his apartment in the city. And as they did the hide-the-truck in the underground parking garage and boarded the elevator, he still remained quiet. Caprise was biding her time. Whatever was ticking around inside of X was about to blow completely. Veins bulged in his arms and hands. The tattoos on his neck pulsed with the rush of blood going on beneath. He walked with long purposeful strides, slid the keycard into the base on the door with a quick motion.
The moment she walked into his apartment Caprise was smacked with the cold. She shivered, hating this place for what it represented and how it made her feel. And yet at this moment there wasn’t any other place she’d rather be. For the first time in her life there was someone who needed her and not the other way around. Of course he wouldn’t admit it—would probably rather pull his eyeballs out than admit that he needed her right now. It didn’t matter. She was determined not to run this time.
“You don’t listen, do you?” he said, heading back to his bedroom. “Every goddamn time I tell you to do something, you do the opposite.”
Following him into the room, Caprise stopped at one side of the bed and shrugged. “Then you should probably stop telling me what to do.”
He turned to her then, his neck snapping around so quickly it was almost comical. His eyes, however, were still ominously black, so she didn’t dare crack a smile. This wasn’t a laughing matter, she knew. X was in deep trouble. Caprise prayed she had what it took to help him.
“Why don’t you sit down and we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk,” he said, a growl following his words. “You wanted to follow me so you’re gonna get the show you asked for.”
He went to the armoire in the corner. On the side almost hidden was a keypad—Xavier loved his codes and computers. He punched in some numbers, then opened both doors so that the contents were on full display.
If someone had told her this was the type of stuff X was into, Caprise would have never believed them. Then again, she thought, blinking a couple of times, she would have. It said so much about the man standing there, staring into the open armoire. And then, it didn’t say enough.
From where she stood, and looking around his muscled frame, she saw the tools of the trade, knew them because dancing in seedy clubs like Athena’s introduced her to so much. There were leather whips and chains hanging neatly on the insides of the doors. Deeper inside were shelves all lined with red velvet. On them she could see a variety of nipple clamps, vibrators, and plugs.
She swallowed, because damn, she had no idea what she’d been walking herself into.
“I’m not like other men,” he said, not turning to face her. “I’m not even like the other shifters.”
“It’s okay to be different,” she said, demanding her knees stop wobbling. She would not sit down, would not cop out on him in any way. If this was the man she wanted, she would have to stand for him, no matter what the cost.
“I don’t know how to stop what’s inside me.”
Caprise chose that moment to move. She walked up behind him, touching a hand to his back.
“Something happened,” he continued, his words sounding tortured, his voice almost unfamiliar. “It changed everything and I can’t take it back. I don’t want to take it back.”
She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. Both her hands were on his back now, sliding down to his sides as she rested her forehead against him. “I know how that feels.”
“No,” he said slowly. “No, you don’t.”
Then he turned so fast, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her back until she fell on the bed.
“You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through. None! But since you can’t follow simple instructions I’ll have to show you.”
Everything began happening in a blur. X’s hands moved so fast, ripping at her clothes, tearing her shoes from her feet, tossing her belt and bra across the room. She was naked when he lifted her off the bed, pulled back the comforters, then dropped her back onto its center. Her heart pounded, her eyes open so wide she thought her eyeballs would pop right out. But she didn’t run, didn’t even try to fight back.
He put her wrists together, lifted them over her head, then handcuffed her there. Ripples of excitement twisted throughout her body and she bit on her bottom lip. If this was just going to be about sex, she could handle it. But something told her it was about so much more.
X grabbed her ankles next, stretching her legs apart and tying them to the posters at the end of the bed with the softest silk material she’d ever felt. He moved around the room, lighting black candles throughout, remaining absolutely quiet afterward. He looked like a dark knight standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes gleaming, muscles bulging. When he pulled his shirt over his head, Caprise gasped. He unbuckled his jeans and pushed them down his legs. As he stepped out of shoes and the jeans she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. And when he stood before her totally naked, the golden candlelight illuminating the numerous tattoos over dark brown skin, her pussy pulsated.
“Death,” he said slowly tracing his finger over the tattoo of the moon dripping with blood at the bottom of his neck. “All I could think about was dying. Every time that bastard touched me I wanted to die.”
Her eyes stayed trained on him, on his face, his mouth as he talked. Then up to his eyes as he watched her. She couldn’t tell what he thought looking down at her in this submissive position, but whatever it was, it was enough to keep him talking.
“He said it was what my parents wanted, why they sent me to him in the first place. They wanted him to fuck me. Can you believe that shit? What kind of parents want that?”
Caprise didn’t have an answer, and she suspected X wasn’t really looking for her to answer him.
Instead he bent down and picked up a whip. She hadn’t seen him take it from the armoire but guessed he’d done it before lighting the candles. He held the heavy-looking handle in his hands, wrapping the long strip around so it circled his wrist one time.
“They wanted me to feel pain,” he said, lifting his arm. The whip came down with a snap.
Caprise bit the bottom of her lip to keep from jumping with the distinctive snapping sound. The whip hadn’t touched her at all.
“For days and days afterward all I could remember was the pain. Then disgust would set in. Then shame. I was ashamed of who I was, of whatever my purpose was in this life.”
The whip came down again, this time so close to her skin she’d felt the quick wisp of air as it hit the mattress.
“He didn’t stop. My father said to man up. My mother cried. And I walked over to his house every goddamn time they told me to. I walked right into his arms. Fucking bastard!”
The whip soared through the air once more, landing on the other side of the bed. This time when it hit, Caprise didn’t want to cringe; her nipples hardened.
“Bastard!” X continued to scream, bringing the whip down time and time again until finally a small part of the edge caught Caprise’s leg.
She hissed and bucked up off the bed. Not because of the pain. No, while there was a bit of a sting to her skin, the ripples of pleasure that quickly spread like a disease throughout her body took the pain away. Her pussy vibrated with each strike of that whip. She was so wet her thighs were now damp.
He stopped instantly, as if it had just dawned him that she was lying there. He looked down at her, his eyes still that eerie darkness.
“I can’t stop it, don’t you understand. I couldn’t stop him,” he said quietly, his arms falling at his sides, the whip hitting the floor with a clank.
“Xavier,” she said, because Caprise honestly did not know what else to say.
He shook his head, fists balling at his sides. “But I could stop him. I did stop him when I killed him. I killed him!” he yelled, tilting his head back to let a vicious roar break free.
