Page 52 of Crossbones
Before I can ask what the fuck that even means, the door opens andthree men saunter in. Their attention focuses solely on Caspian. Every muscle in Caspian’s body tenses but he otherwise makes no move to avoid them as they unlock his cell door.
“Welcome back, little prince.”
“As ugly as ever, Firth,” Caspian mutters. “Harold, Liam—” He greets the other two with the same dull tone. They yank him to his feet and Firth backhands him across the face. I grip the bars with so much force I can feel my bones grind together. Caspian doesn’t react except to glare at Firth.
“Same smart mouth,” Firth chuckles. “It’s been awhile. You must need a reminder of what that gets you here.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Caspian’s face goes another shade whiter and his lips thin, but he allows himself to get dragged out of the cell. He doesn’t once look at me. The door slams behind them. I stand at the bars but my mind is soon overwhelming me with noise and I have to move. I pace the five steps from the door to the wall and back again. Whatever is going on here is deep and dark. Anything that makes Caspian look like he did when Malik showed up…well, I don’t want to ever see that on his face again.
Several excruciating hours later, the door slams open and I scramble to my feet. Caspian is shirtless, barely keeping his feet as they half-carry, half-drag him between them. Opening the cell door, they drop him carelessly at the entrance, his manacles tangle as he tries to catch himself. The men leave and I step to the bars.
“What happened?” I demand.
He pulls himself to his feet, glancing at me briefly before staggering to the back of the cell. I stalk him along the bars, running my eyes over him as I scrutinize every inch for damage. A disturbed voice whispers that not all damage is visual, but I shy away from that because it makes my stomach turn. Caspian kneels down with a grimace and leans his shoulder against the wall, followed by his head, and closes his eyes.
I stare down at him, wanting answers but there are lines of pain on every inch of his face. Pain he’s trying to push away, and from experience I know sometimes you just need a minute. Jaw tight with impatience, I turn away and start to pace again. I get through a few passes before he speaks.
“What were you going to say when you stopped me?” He asks.
“What?” I look over at him but his eyes are still closed.
“Before Malik showed up—what were you going to say?”
I openmy mouth to respond, only to realize I don’t know, and shut it again.
“You were going to compliment my skills, weren’t you?” He teases.
Caspian’s eyes crack open revealing a glimmer of amusement trying to push through the agony. I can’t even summon a twitch of my lips at his humor—none of this is funny—he sobers with a sigh.
“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he breathes out, closing his eyes again.
I walk over to the bars closest to him. His manacled wrists hang down between his thighs, pulling his shoulders down to a degree I’ve never seen before. Even when I had him caged, he’d never been this beaten down. Noticing how his muscles flex under all the grime and blood stirs something entirely inappropriate inside me and I shove it away.
“I don’t remember—I think I just wanted you to stop running,” I mutter.
He cracks an eye open. “You were on the verge of freaking out.”
I scoff. “Not true.”
“Aye,” he chuckles. “Admit it, Captain, you were panicking after your first experience with a man. Wondering what it all means—why you enjoyed yourself…you did enjoy yourself right?” His eyes pop open and darken as he gives me a once over, obviously reliving the memory. “It sure seems like you did.”
I don’t know what to say, and I’m uncomfortably aware I may be developing a bit of a blush as heat creeps up my neck. Caspian huffs a laugh again.
“It’s cute when you’re flustered.”
“Cute?” I glare down at him but his eyes are closed again. He smiles but doesn’t open them.
“Would you rather I use the word adorable?”
I grumble some obscenities under my breath. I don’t think I’ve ever been described ascutein my life and I don’t know how to feel about it. The silence stretches. Caspian’s ragged breaths are the only sound. I want to ask about Malik again but my gut tells me he won’t say anything.
After a while, his breathing evens out and I’m left alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that are oscillating disturbingly between Caspian giving me a blowjob, and the situation we’re in now. I eventually exhaust myself with all the pacing and slide down against the back wall as close to the bars as I can get. I stare at Caspian, studying him intently. I don’t know if I’m trying to find something to make my attraction to him less or if I’m just simply giving myself permission to notice everything Iamattracted to about him.
Regardless, as I drift off, my thoughts continually snag on how furious I am to see him hurting and I don’t know what to do with that.
CASPIAN
Despite my protests, hands are touching me everywhere I don’t want them to. I go quiet, because I think he likes it when I struggle. Besides, I know if he’s with me, he’s not with my sister. Pleasure briefly wars with the pain, and nausea turns my stomach—it shouldn’t feel good. I don’t want it to feel good. And I absolutely, shouldn’t feel grateful for the moment of reprieve—
