Oddly enough, I didn’t have any sense of fear. Ciaran was the most dangerous person in this room. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was more concerned about him killing me.
I took a steadying breath and made my way over to the ropes. There was no point in fighting or delaying the inevitable. Dragging this out would only prolong me discovering the reason I’d been brought in here.
I knelt to gather both ends of rope, then I turned and slipped them around my wrists, looking to Ciaran when I was done. He leaned towards one of his friends and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was had him nudging the other guy before moving towards the exit of the tent. One knocked twice, and then they were let out, leaving Ciaran and me all alone. It felt like eons ago since he and I were locked away somewhere together.
If I really wanted to, I could slip these ropes off and…well, I’m not sure what I’d do after that.
“Thinking of ways to try and kill me again?”
“Would that make us even?”
He chuckled and pushed away from the table he’d been leaning against.
“You’re cute.”
I ignored that. There were too many other important things to focus on.
“Do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on? And how do we--.”
“Yes,” he bit out, cutting me off. “I do mind. So should you.”
He walked behind the plywood, out of my line of sight. There was a soft rolling noise, and then the ends of my restraints tightened around my wrists.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t reply, continuing to tighten my restraints.
My arms began to raise up on either side of me. When I resembled the shape of a capital T, he finally stopped. It wasn’t enough to hurt but this position was far from comfortable.
Ciaran reappeared to my immediate left, walking right up to me this time. He placed a gloved hand on my lower hip and leaned in close. I swallowed, shutting my eyes as his familiar magnetic cologne wafted through my mask. He still smelled like a mix of warm cinnamon, mint, and masculine leather. The leathered parts of his hoodie were making that last part worse.
“Careful, the walls can see and hear,” he whispered softly.
My eyes flew open as his words registered. Did that mean even now we were being watched?
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know the answer.
He skimmed his leather clad fingers across the exposed skin of my stomach, moving so that he was standing directly in front of me. “We’re going to give the people what they want.”
His other hand landed on my right hip, he came even closer, bringing us practically chest to chest. I couldn’t lie and say this had no effect on me. My stomach felt like high tide, nerves were zinging beneath my skin. He’d always felt familiar to me, safe despite the fact he was a direct threat to my vitality.
“You can’t mean--.”
“I do,” he interrupted. “I need a reminder of what your pussy feels like when my tongues inside it.”
My skin flushed, my body readily agreeing while my brain tried to rationally find a way out of this. Because, seriously, no freaking way. Not in this place. Not with everything going on.
“You said people are watching,” I objected.
“They are. That’s why we’re going to give them one helluva show.”
His hands moved to the front button of my shorts and popped it through the hole.
“You can’t,” I tried again.
He ignored me, jimmying my shorts down until they were down around my ankles. The warm air hit my exposed skin, and I slightly shivered. My shirt was next. I figured he’d leave it on me because of the way my arms were positioned, but no.
He removed a thick, silver handled blade from beneath the waistband of jeans behind his back and began slicing upwards. Going straight through the middle of my shirt. The material tore and my body jolted from his motions. I leaned my head back as far as I could in case his hand slipped.
“Don’t you trust me, puppet?” he asked, his tone teasing.
“Trust you as far as I can throw you.”
He made quick work of the sleeves, tossing the ruined shirt onto the dirt floor when he finished shredding it. I was left tied up in my bra, boy shorts, and jean shorts down around my ankles. Mix that with the sinister mask and unkempt hair, I’m sure I was a sight to behold.
Ciaran stepped back and simply stared. He was way too attractive in this getup. His black and white mask obscured his face, but I could feel his eyes all over me.
“You’re beautiful.” He said it so softly I didn’t think I was meant to hear it.
This certified he was out of his damn mind.