Page 5 of Summer's Cage
A small smile lifts my lips beneath the mask, and I prod at her with the shirt and pants.
Her lips part, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes me more thoroughly. “Why are you doing this?”
Her voice cracks, and a new wave of tears brims her eyelids. There is no simple way for me to explain it to her, and she’d never believe me. Not yet, anyways. Again, I shake my head ather question. Her exhausted eyes fall to my split knuckles as she sniffs, confusion rippling her expressive brows.
When her gaze snaps back to mine, there’s a steeliness to her I haven’t seen yet, and it makes me nervous. “Why did you…stop?”
She grits out the wordstopthrough tightly clenched teeth, fury making her brave. She’s pissed, and there’s a bratty air about her right now. Like she views me as the lowest piece of shit on the earth. It angers me in return, and with no way to communicate other than broken sign language and physical action, I choose the latter.
Throwing the clothes I brought her aside, I strike out just as quickly and grip her wrists, yanking her to me and standing us both up as the towel slips to the floor. She screams so loudly my eardrums rattle, and fights me like an enraged raccoon with rabies—hissing, spitting, biting, clawing. A silent laugh at her pathetic attempts shakes my chest, and I throw her carelessly onto the mattress.
She falls on her back and bounces a few times, sprawled before me in the perfect position for me to sink into her and never resurface. Her features are frozen in utter shock and horror as she tries to scoot herself backwards, but I dip my knee between her legs and grip her ankle, yanking her back to me as she falls flat onto the creaking springs.
Tugging down the waistband of my sweatpants, I free my fully erect cock and smirk in satisfaction as her eyes widen like a frightened doe’s. Wrapping my fingers around my dick, I give it a few harsh strokes, allowing a bead of pre-cum to collect on my tip.
Summer is frozen, hardly breathing, and although I am trying to convey a distinct and important message to her, the temptation she presents is too great. Stuck in a war between my opposing desires, I pause above her, staring at her cunt, unableto see much of her entrance, even with her sprawled before me like this.
I wonder if I’ll make her bleed?
That image drives me over the edge, and I cave to my desperate need to be inside her, pressing the tip of my cock to her clit before dragging it down.
“No, no, wait! Please!Please!”
I stop. My heart thuds so hard it makes my dick twitch in my hand and tick against her. It takes me a moment to find the courage to look in her eyes, but I do. Tears stream down her pretty face. Her brows are pulled up and puckered in the center, her pleas not only vocal, but physical,spiritual. She doesn’t want this, and although I do, I refuse to be like the man who created me.
So I release my cock and reach out to cup her cheek. She flinches, and I slow my movements, gentle and soft as I swipe a crystalline tear from her smooth skin.
Holding it before her eyes, I nod once to it. She glances between the tear and me, hopefully making the connection. I am capable of doing to her whatever I can dream up, but I am just as weak for her—desperate for her to want me as badly as I want her.
Releasing her bony ankle, I tuck my cock away and stand, backing toward the stairs. She watches me go, still frozen, still terrified, but now even more confused than before.
And when I turn away to ascend the stairs, her trembling voice stops me in my tracks.
“What’s…what’s your name?”
Glancing at the floor over my shoulder, I grit my teeth and consider answering her question. I want her to know my name. I want to be as embedded in her mind as she is in mine. But I don’t think she’d be able to read sign, and it embarrasses the fuck outof me because even after having no voice for seven years, I barely know more than the basics of the language.
A thick layer of dirt and dust catches my eye, and I crouch down once more, using the fingertip that collected her tear to burn my name into her soul.
K A G E
CHAPTER FOUR
SUMMER
In the dimnessof an impending dawn, my eyes trace those four blocky letters over and over again.Kage. He’s given me his name, and not much else aside from trauma. I am more lost and confused than ever before; no amount of dabbling in crime shows and books could’ve prepared me for the beast that is this man and his enigmatic mind.
Hair wrapped up in the towel, I still refuse to wear the clothes he’s given me, but as the cold, blue morning light spills in through the small, barred window above me, I know I’ll cave soon. Now that the shower is off, the humidity has blanketed every surface in a dewy chill, the moisture in the air sapping me of what little warmth my body is trying to provide me with.
My eyes grace the letters again. Kage. A man with beautiful, haunting eyes, an abnormally huge dick, and a proclivity for kidnapping and repeated invasive encounters. Sniffling, I hug myself tighter and pinch my eyes shut against the memories from hours ago.
I’d been brazen enough to ask him why he had stopped, which nearly resulted in him carrying out a very intentional assault. The fear coursing through my body in that moment is strange to ponder now that I am calm. What frightens me themost, I think, is knowing I would’ve done anything for him to stop. It had been on the tip of my tongue, any bribe I could think of. Money. The key to my safety deposit box that houses silver and gold bars that my grandparents had passed down to me. Living here forever with him. I’d even considered opening my stupid mouth and letting him fuck my throat raw—anythingbut the pain and humiliation that would’ve come from him raping me.
He was truly about to, I know it in my bones, but the second those clear, light brown eyes had settled on mine, a blanket of safety had enveloped me. He wasshowingme why he stopped. He’d done sobecauseof my tears—because I didn’t want him to hurt me. That notion shouldn’t make my stomach squirm in strange, somewhat desirable ways, but it does. Kage, whatever else he may be, is a monster. He’s just…not the type of monster every girl is told to fear. And I don’t know what to do with that knowledge.
With a labored sigh, I unfurl my aching legs and reach across the mattress for the clothes, tossing the towel aside and tugging them on. At least they’re clean, and the sweats are soft and cozy against my bare skin. Eyes heavy with exhaustion, I curl onto my side and tuck my hands up under my cheek, nodding off into something between dreams and reality. All is hushed, save for the normal sounds in a house: a furnace running, the water heater hissing, birds chirping happily as the sun rises.
My mind wanders aimlessly, my soul too tortured to fully fall into the bliss of sleep. I miss my family with an ache in my chest that burns fiercely. Tucking my face into the crook of my arm, I release a soft sob. It had been a huge decision to move from my hometown in southern Oregon to San Diego nearly a year ago. I’d never seen my father cry until the day we hugged goodbye at the airport. Being the only daughter gave me a differentrelationship with him than my older brother had, but we were both so lucky to have such a beautiful childhood.
