Page 31 of StoryTeller's Tale

“Sheri? Sheri Secord?”

It’s not just the words, it’s the authoritative deep voice barking them. A voice I’ve never heard before, but one so loud it echoes around the walls.

“Sheri? Where are you?” There’s a hint of anxiety in the tone.

Is it a rescue or someone come to buy me?I don’t know which, and while I’d like to say it’s the futility of refusing to identify myself, rather than the effect that booming, commanding voice has on me, it’s the latter that has me stepping forward.

“I… I’m here.” I move to the front of my cage, wrap my hands around the bar, and stare as my fate approaches.

My God—he’s beautiful.If this is someone who wants to own me, maybe I won’t bother to protest. I ignore the voice inside that asks why such a vision should need to buy a kidnapped woman, when surely a crook of his finger would get him anyone he wants. It has to be something like he’s got such a devious nature, only the forced would comply.

Mesmerised by his insane good looks, I jump a little at his voice.

“Sheri, babe. Looks like MariaLisa DeMora has brought us back together again.”

His words might no longer be shouted, but the low tone vibrates, creating the sensation that I can feel as well as hear them.

Has the thickness of the air down here affected my brain? Maybe it’s the lack of daylight and stimulation, but it takes a moment for what he’s said, rather than the manner, to sink in.

He called me babe.And, he mentioned my favourite author.

Could she have sent him to rescue me?A kernel of excitement starts to grow inside, as I realise no one else would think to mention that name to me. Even Agatha hasn’t taken notice of the actual books I read. But my hopes are dashed fast. How would she know I was missing? I shake my head in a vain attempt to clear the fog enough to solve the mystery. It doesn’t work.

“Haven’t you anything to say to your ol’ man?” the delicious stranger asks, his deep voice sending tremors shooting through me. His brown eyes captivate me, speckled as they are with flecks of gold that seem to glimmer in the weak overhead light. His long, unrestrained hair is such a gorgeous brown, that I find myself swallowing. He wears a cut with a name patch which reads,StoryTeller, and even that fuels fantasies which at this moment I really shouldn’t have.

Entranced with the vision in front of me, I take longer than I should to interpret the words.Ol’ man.In my bikers’ books, that’s a serious claim. How could this man I’ve never seen before in my life, because, believe you me, I’d have remembered if I had, claim such a relationship with me?

Glancing at him quickly, I see a pleading in his eyes, a slight loss of confidence in the way he’s looking at me, as if I’m not responding in the way that he wants.

I have no idea what he wants me to say, so I just plead. “Get me out of here, please.”

Sotto voce, so low I half imagine I hear it, are the words, “Go with it.”

“You going to let my ol’ lady out of here?” He half turns as he says the words, letting me see the back of his cut.

I swallow my gasp. He’s a member of the Wretched Soulz. They have the worse reputation of any outlaw club. I start to think I’m going to be leaping out of the pan and into the fire if I’m depending on this man to get me out.

I could disavow him. Make it clear we’ve never met before.But to what end? It won’t change a damn thing. I’ll still be a prisoner of the Dominators.

Swallowing again, wondering if I’m being led by my pussy and not by my brain, I take a leap into the unknown. “StoryTeller, please make them let me go.”

A dry, unpleasant voice sounds, as Knuckles approaches the door. “Well, well, what a touching reunion.” He grabs the back of StoryTeller’s neck, holding it so hard I can see it must hurt, yet myol’ man, barely flinches. “Open the cage, Foghorn.”

Is this it? Is this the moment I’m freed?

The door starts to open, and things happen simultaneously. Instead of me being allowed out, Knuckles rips the cut off StoryTeller’s back and then throws him in the cage with me. I’d have fallen had it not been for his quick reflexes, and the way he grabs for me, and holds me up.

“Go with it,” he hisses, repeating the words he said before.

I don’t have time to process anything, as without any warning, his mouth crashes down onto mine.

Instantly, I know this is something special and far out of my league. I’ve been kissed before, or, at least, I thought I had, but never like this. His lips cover mine with enough pressure to bruise, and his tongue demands entry into my mouth. My breath must smell, my teeth are furry, but he kisses me as if I’d been sampling the finest wine. My toes literally curl, and without conscious thought, I rise on tiptoe, realising to my surprise that my hands have tangled in his hair and I’m kissing him back as tingles travel the length of my spine and sparks alight something in the very core of me. My senses of where I am, who he is and who’s watching, completely flee. I’ve no room for thoughts other than allowing myself to enjoy the sensations flooding my body. As he angles my head for better access, my nipples peak and become sensitive as they brush against my shirt.

I’m under no illusion that he’s got all the control. Where he leads, I can only follow. When I think he’s pulling away, I whimper, but he’s only repositioning himself, and allowing us a chance to take in much-needed air.

For the first time in days, I smell something other than the foul odour surrounding me. Leather, cigarette smoke and the shampoo or soap that he uses fill my nostrils, the scents combining to form a perfume I’d make a fortune from if I could bottle it, though I wouldn’t. I’m selfish. I want that to be just for me.

His lips are firm. His tongue, strong as it fights for dominance with mine, makes me wonder what other use he could put it to. And that’s not the only part of his body I’m aware of. Being as close as we are, there’s no doubting that he’s also turned on, as a very hard cock is pressing into my stomach.Is that me? Or does danger get him off?I decide it has to be the latter. I don’t think I’ve ever had that effect on a man before.

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