Page 81 of Hook

It’s posed as a question, but I sense that it’s an order. “And if I refuse?”

“Then we can watch,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing my skin. “But it would be a real shame.”

“You want other people to watch us?” I ask, finding it a little odd.

“I want everyone in this fucking place to see that I own you. That I possess every fucking part of you, and if anyone ever tries to take you...” He trails off. “Let’s say it will get bloody.”

I shudder as he talks of murder so easily and yet my sick ass self likes the idea of him killing for me. It’s more than Piero was willing to do. The coward wouldn’t fight for me the other day, and I’ve been stewing over it ever since.

“Okay,” I say.

“Good girl,” he praises, grabbing my hand and yanking me toward a free booth.

There’s a man at the door. “Hey boss, you want this one?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“And sharing?” he asks.

I turn stiff at the mention of sharing. “No,” he half growls. “I don’t want anyone getting into this booth with us, understood?”

He nods. “You can count on me.” The man opens the door and allows us inside the booth, which has a bed with chains affixed and a number of implements hanging from the walls. The lights turn on, illuminating us for everyone outside to watch.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I murmur, glancing toward the window, which is already drawing a crowd of onlookers.

Cillian grabs my wrist and yanks me into him. “Free yourself from your own prison, Gwendolyne. Break free and revel in the beauty of sex, pain, and voyuerism.” He moves his lips to my ears. “There’s no thrill as intense as other people getting off to watching you fuck, trust me.”

I swallow hard, knowing the last thing in the world I should do is trust this man. And yet, I want to. I want to trust that he’s right and that this will be as hot as he says.”

“Let go and allow me to lead you into hell. It feels a thousand times better than heaven.”

I shudder and nod as he pushes the straps of my dress down. Slowly, he undresses me. When he unveils the bruises on my ass, he traces them gently with his fingers. “I’m glad I get to show these off,” he breathes, his voice full of fire. “Show everyone you belong to me. These bruises are like a tattoo, Gwendolyne. A mark that binds us together.” He pinches the sore skin. “And I couldn’t be prouder that you’re wearing my mark for all to see.”

I shudder. His words are sinful and twisted and everything. The freedom of being able to explore this side of me is refreshing. He slides my bra straps down and unfastens it before tossing it to the floor. I gaze out of the window to see people watching with intrigue. Suddenly, I’m filled with a confidence I never knew I possessed.

When my panties are off, Cillian thrusts two fingers into me, making my back arch in response. “Oh God,” I cry, biting on my lip.

“That’s it, baby. Show them who your God is.”

I whimper as he thrusts in and out of me with his fingers, unable to believe how good it feels being watched. As I gaze out at the crowd, I notice two men have their cocks out and are stroking them, eyes fixed on me.

“Those men are walking a dangerous line, stroking themselves while they watch you,” he murmurs, fingers thrusting harder now as he drives me to the edge of no return. “If they’re not careful, I might claw their eyes out with my hook to teach them a lesson.”

I shudder at the violence in his tone. “And what lesson is that?”

“That you belong to me and me alone. It was a mistake having you on show, because I’m too fucking possessive of you, Gwendolyne,” he purrs.

My stomach tightens and I’m sure I’m going to come, arching my back in anticipation. His fingers slip out of me. “What the fuck?” I cry out.

“You know the rules. No orgasm until I give you permission.” He grabs the back of my neck so that I’m arched so far back his mouth is by my ear. “Let’s see how rough you can take it.” He walks away from me and I glance backward to see he’s removing his prosthetic hand and replacing it with his hook, but there’s a difference. It’s straighter, and the end isn’t hooked. It’s bulbous.

My eyes clamp shut, wondering what he intends to use that for. When he turns around to face me, the darkness in his eyes should scare me, but it doesn’t. It ignites this odd giddiness in me.

“Bend over,” he orders.

I glance back out at the ever-growing crowd. “Cillian,” I breathe his name, overwhelmed by the amount of people watching us. “I don’t think I can—”

He drags the tip of his hook down my spine. I shudder, starting forward as the metal is cold against my skin. “I don’t want you to think. I want you to feel.” He moves the hook right over my asshole gently and then to my pussy, lingering there.

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