Chained (Caged Book 2) (7 page)

Vulnerability shone from him, his brow creased, and he looked scared for a moment. Shaking himself, anger once again contorted his handsome face. He nodded to Robbie again. “Do it.”

The chains that held me rattled as Robbie repositioned me, turning me on the axle that held both chains so my body turned and my back faced both men. Anderson walked around me until he stood in front of me. His eyes bore into me as he sliced through my underwear and it dropped in a pool of material at my feet. Robbie pushed me forward and his hand ran down my spine, a finger dipping between my arse cheeks and tickling at my anus.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip at the sensation, I concentrated on Anderson and his self-pleasuring. I wanted to touch him so bad, to feel him under my hand, to take his pre-cum between my fingers and smear it across my lips.

As Robbie pushed a finger inside me, I allowed myself to relax, to take what he forced inside me.

Anderson snapped, “Open” when my eyes fluttered closed. “I want to watch the pain in your eyes.”

I forced my gaze to his, fighting with the need to close my eyes as I absorbed the hunger pouring from him.

Robbie fucked my arse with his fingers as Anderson fucked his hand. Pleasure twisted my belly when Robbie gripped my hips, holding me still, and pushed inside my backside. His cock wasn’t as thick as Anderson’s, but he was long. Pain seized my breath the further in he pressed, his fingers digging deeper into my flesh to hold me still from the instinctive need to move away from him.

Anderson stepped closer to me, steadying my swaying body so Robbie could fill me with himself. Leaning forward, I begged Anderson to kiss me. I wanted his mouth on me so bad that when he refused I whimpered like a spoilt child.

Yet, giving me something, he unlocked the ankle cuffs and braced the back of my thighs, and lifted my legs around his waist. His t-shirt rubbed against my bare breasts, grazing my sensitive nipples with the rough material.

Robbie started to move faster, ramming in and out of me like he wanted to grant Anderson his request momentarily. My anus stung, but every stroke of his cock against my muscles drove the sensation higher and higher until my whimpering had morphed into heated groans, and I wrapped my fingers around the chain to counteract the growing ecstasy inside me.

“Please,” I begged when he drove harder, his fingernails cutting into my skin the more he fought with his own orgasm.

My mind whirled with awareness and I cried out when Anderson flicked the knife over my right breast. Blood trickled down my belly and I shivered as nirvana hit me head on and propelled me into the realms of incredible pleasure.

Anderson growled and I choked on a moan when he forced his cock inside my cunt.

“Fuck!” Robbie grunted as Anderson’s cock slid alongside his, squeezing my muscles around him as I took both cocks inside me.

My teeth clashed with Anderson’s when his mouth crashed over mine. He bit my lip and blood flowed into both our mouths. The hit of copper on my tongue and the sensation of the warm liquid trickling down my throat captured my breath.

My throat constricted under Anderson’s hold when he pressed the heel of his hand into the base of my throat and refused me any air. Both men fucked me hard, they both fucked me with a violence that bordered on sadistic, and they both filled me with so much pain that I couldn’t fight against the pleasure that overwhelmed me.

My orgasm tore through me with so much brutality that the scream that ripped up my throat grazed my voice box.

Anderson and Robbie roared as their own climaxes shook their bones, both of them thrusting deep within me to flood me with their spunk.

Blood and cum dripped down my inner thighs as Anderson snapped open the cuffs and captured me in his arms when I dropped to the floor. My body felt heavy and I trembled in his embrace, making him pull me tighter to him protectively.

Once again, the softer side to him surfaced. He grunted something at Robbie that I couldn’t hear and I felt myself being carried through the house.

I was asleep before I felt the softness of the mattress cocoon my exhausted body.

W
HY WAS IT THE HARDER
we fell, the tighter we held on. To hope. To love?

Anderson had chained me to him. But those chains were fragile, corroded and brittle. One strong pull and the links would slip apart like paperchains crafted from the clumsy hands of babes. The tears of our hatred were the very things that would weaken those links holding us together, and would in the end break us.

Anderson paralysed the pain inside me by giving me the pain on the outside to focus on. He took the numb parts that haunted me and he bled life into them. He compelled me to feel the very things I had fought to forget for so long.

And now I had felt them, the pain and the pleasure, the overwhelming sensations that had engulfed me, I couldn’t imagine never feeling them again.

I had banished the truth of my life from my head for so long that my mind had forgotten they were there. My mother. Rape. The thump in my chest when the darkness started to seep into my nerve endings.

My fragile state of mind, at the age of nine, had blocked out the horrors that could,
and would
, send me insane, and they’d been locked down so securely that they had been buried under lies and fantasy.

Anderson had forced them free. And now Samantha once again had her say in my head, the real visions of my past slaughtered me over and over again.

I was struggling to breathe under the panic that crushed my lungs.

“Breathe, Kloe,” Anderson urged, the beautiful sight of his face blurring under the fog clouding my vision. His hands gripped mine hard, demanding that I feel him, feel something to break me out of the hallucinations plaguing me.

I had woken not seconds ago, a nightmare ripping through my mind and sending me spiralling into a fit of terror.

Brian’s laughter, joined by the cruel sneer of my mother, taunted me again and again, the scorching heat of my tears branding a route down my damp cheeks.

“It’s just a dream,” Anderson soothed as his hands framed my face and he forced me to see him. “Just a dream, little wolf.”

That goddamn stupid pet name slipped rage into my bloodstream and I angrily lashed out, the fright in me needing to find a quick outlet. “I’m not your fucking little wolf,” I spat. “I’m not, you stupid cunt!”

I gasped, my neck snapping as Anderson’s palm struck my cheek and my face flung sideways. The sharp sting cracked the shell that was capturing my sanity and a sob ripped from me.

As if he wanted to play games, his brisk anger at my outburst vanished and he pulled me across and onto his lap. His arms enveloped me protectively as he very gently started to rock me.

“Shh,” he breathed into my hair. “Calm down.”

I clung to him like he could save me, as though he could change my past and give me a different life.

“I’m sorry,” I hiccupped. “I didn’t mean that.”

He nodded. “I know, just as I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Once again I was perplexed by his differing moods. Anderson
did
mean to hurt me, to such an extent that he would be the very last person my eyes would ever see. “But you do, Anderson. Over and over.”

He didn’t answer me, choosing to stay silent and not grant my confusion clarity.

“What was your dream?”

I stiffened and he turned me so I was still on his lap but facing him. It was still dark outside and I found myself in Anderson’s bed. I’d passed out after both Anderson and Robbie had fucked me into oblivion, and as my vision cleared I couldn’t help but smile softly at Anderson’s messed up hair and the crease created by a wrinkle in the pillow that ran down his left cheek.

Tracing the sleep induced mark with my finger, I sighed. “This,” I whispered. “This is how I want to picture you forever. You have no barriers up. You are you, free from the obligation you force on yourself.”

He stared at me but didn’t make to move or push me away.

“This is the real you, Anderson Cain.”

“And which is the real you, Kloe Grant?”

Smiling again, I ran my thumb over his eye, wiping the tiny amount of sleep that had collected in the corner. “The real me came to say hello last night.”

His brow creased and he sighed as if he had expected my answer but refused to believe it. “I’m not so convinced.”

“Well you should be. I’m not sure how I can make you believe me.”

He drew both his thumbs across my lips, smearing the dampness from my tears that had gathered into the flush of my cheeks. “Tell me what you felt last night when I cut you. When both Rob and I fucked you.”

Thinking about how to describe it, all I could say was, “I felt free.”

A shadow seeped into his eyes and he blinked it away. He nodded abruptly and lifted me off his knee, gently settling me on the bed. Without another word, he strolled out of the room, leaving me staring after him.

I couldn’t understand what I had said wrong. I had been as honest as I could, sensing it was important to him. Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe my reaction to what happened last night was ‘wrong’.

Anderson reappeared minutes later with a steaming cup. He nodded when he held it out to me. “Drink. It’s lemon and ginger. It should help settle your morning sickness.”

Silly little things like that endeared me to him further, the monster that resided in him cowering to the tender man I knew could dominate him if he allowed it.

“Thank you.” I took a sip, surprised by how much I liked it. “That’s nice.” I smiled up at him. He was gazing at me, a soft look in his eyes that was a rare spectacle. Not many people ever saw this side to him, but I knew he was the one who never allowed it. Anderson had to be hard to protect himself, to steel himself from the horrors that life haunted him with. Just like me, really.

He settled back down on the bed, propping himself up on the headboard. Carefully, so as to not spill my tea, he moved me until I was sat between his thighs with my back resting on his chest. We were both naked but I felt as comfortable as if my bare skin were covered in clothes.

“Tell me,” he ordered quietly.

I took another sip of the hot liquid and swallowed it down to lubricate my parched throat. “Can we trade? I share with you and you share a piece of you afterwards?”

He drew a long breath in through his nose, however I felt him nod behind me. His arms came around me, guiding the cup back to my mouth. “Drink. It will help.”

Doing as directed, I sipped again, relaxing as I felt the warm trickle in my queasy belly.

“I think… I think it was a memory, not a dream.”

He remained silent, patiently waiting for me.

I shuddered and he wrapped his legs around mine. His arms and his legs guarded me and I felt safe enough to continue.

“I was hungry.” My belly rumbled as if bringing the memory to life, so I took another sip to calm it. “My mother was sitting in an old chair in the corner of the attic, and Brian sat beside me on the bed. He had chocolate and a can of pop.” I couldn’t remember which brand it was, and for some reason that angered me. “He was angry at me.” I blinked, trying to remember why. “I think he wanted something in exchange for the treats. And I wouldn’t…”

I shook my head, my skin prickling with goose bumps at the realisation of what he wanted from me.

“Go on,” Anderson urged. “You need to get it out, Kloe. Or it will haunt you forever.”

I blew out a restricted breath. “I wouldn’t open my legs,” I whispered.

A faint snarl, the feral one that only Anderson perfected, echoed from him, and his grip tightened further.

“My mum…” I tilted my head, concentrating on the memory. “She was angry too. But, I think she understood. She was looking at me and I swear I saw the pity in her eyes.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure if that’s a corrupted part of the memory, but I don’t think so. She got up from the chair and came in front of us.”

I swallowed back the bile that was slowly rising up my throat and took another drink to guide it back down.

“She dropped to her knees in front of Brian and started to undo his trousers. And she said, ‘Leave her today, Brian. I’ll buy the food.’”

My chest ached with sadness and I gulped.

“I ate the food and drank the pop while she paid Brian with a blowjob.”

Anderson stayed silent behind me as we both tried to make sense of it. I wasn’t sure I would ever make sense of it.

“Do you think she was protecting you?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe she couldn’t cope with my whinging.”

He snorted, understanding the sick humour in my statement. “I understand how she feels.”

I gasped, and playfully and lightly slapped his arm. “Cheeky. I’m not that bad.”

“I dunno.” He smirked. “You do moan quite a lot.”

I reached over to the small bedside table and placed my cup down. Then turning to face him on my knees, I gave him a mock glare. “You love making me moan.” I winked and his bright smile made my heart stutter.

His smile dropped when I took his semi-hard cock in my hand. Even soft, Anderson was large and thick, filling my palm with the size of him.

He sucked air through his teeth and his eyes darkened on me.