Holding Lyra was not enough for Kane; he wanted to show her that she had been chosen and now belonged to him. He stretched his arm to retrieve one of the rags that he had left on the floor and took it in both hands to straighten it out. Lyra instinctively shied away from the creature, terrified of his intentions. Kane shifted and held the rag in front of her eyes, indicating that he wanted to blindfold her.
‘No way!’ Lyra mumbled. Kane tugged the rag, forcefully gesturing once again that he intended to blindfold his victim.
Lyra shivered, terrified of what he might do to her. Harlon’s warning hummed in her head; she would live all the time that she surrendered and obeyed. With a slight nod, she closed her eyes and waited. Kane was surprisingly gentle as he tied the rag around her head, not the stealthy and powerful creature that she had seen the previous night.
Kane looked on his woman; she was shaking, still petrified of his wrath. He delighted in her fear. Motionless, he watched her for some time, cowering before him. Once Kane was sure that she would not try to remove the blindfold, he slid off the mask, revealing a face warped with deformity on the right side. His right eye hung lower than the left, his lip twisted cruelly under a crooked and misshapen nose, and his skin creased horrendously. It was a face that had attracted cruelty from his drunken father, abuse from spiteful children and hate from all who had seen it except for his adoring mother.
Lyra waited nervously; she felt his gaze boring through her soul and dreaded his intentions. For a time, he was still, but then he moved closer; his mouth brushed against her neck softly. Lyra remained still, frightened to move. Kane parted his lips and grazed his teeth against her skin. Whilst doing so, he slid his gloves off and reached one arm around her head so that his hand rested in her hair. His teeth scraped along her throat and bit lightly; Lyra gasped as her stomach knotted. It had been many years since anyone had been close to her.
With his free hand, Kane tipped his woman’s head, allowing him to kiss and bite deeply. His tongue caressed her neck until it hit her most sensitive spot. Lyra inadvertently released a soft moan; her body was betraying her fear-filled mind. Kane rested his mouth on her sweetest spot for some time, teasing the skin with his tongue and teeth. Lyra’s breathing deepened as Kane quickened the pace of his nips, rising a line of kisses from her throat to her cheek. His hand pushed her further back into the sofa, and with his knees, he parted her legs and climbed between them, forcing her into submission with his intense body. Lyra did not fight; her mind had passed the turmoil of processing the conflicting emotions of fear and desire and sank into complete surrender.
Kane’s fingers grasped Lyra’s hair; his mouth brushed across her cheek, over her forehead and slid down to her lips. He used his tongue to part her lips and drove his mouth hard against hers as his tongue penetrated her. Lyra sank into a pleasurable trance as his body rubbed against hers. Her hands moved as if with a will of their own over his firm body, and she brushed her tongue back against his as she responded to his passionate kiss.
She was running away from him and he was stalking her. She was pinned in his grip, begging him to release her. Kane, save me. The image filled Kane’s mind as he drove his tongue deeper into her mouth. Lyra felt the creature harden against her belly. His hand wound around her hair and pulled it tightly. A fresh feeling doused Lyra’s fears; she wanted him, the killer, the monster. She actually wanted to feel him inside her. Her legs wrapped about his hips, and her body writhed against the hardness of him.
She smelled different, his woman; her scent had quite changed, and he was attuned to it. It excited him, as did her exquisite response to his touch. He knew that she had no choice but to obey, but he had not expected her to return his affections. He wanted more, desperately wanted to release years of isolated tension into her and to claim her completely.
Lyra was lost; morally lost, emotionally lost and completely lost to her own body’s forgotten desires. She could not see, only feel, and the feeling of him touching her for his own pleasure was tantalising a longing within her. Knowing how dangerous Kane was only served to fuel her need. As Kane’s arousal grew, so too did his aggression; the strength of his grip and the forcefulness of his mouth. Lyra accepted his ardour hungrily.
Kane dropped his mouth down below her chin and ran his teeth back down her throat. Kane, save me. The words thrilled his ears, and the thought of her begging and suffering at his hand drove him on. Viciously, he bit into her neck. Lyra cried out; her cries sank into imploring whimpers as he sucked on her flesh. Her fingers dug into his back as she desperately savoured the pain. She could feel the urgency welling up in her belly gain momentum.
Her hair was released, dropping her head onto the arm of the sofa, and in a rapid motion, he ripped open her shirt, slackening his bite. Kane dropped his mouth to her exposed breasts. He had only intended to kiss her, to show her who she belonged to, but that moment had passed. He had not expected her to respond to him so vigorously, and her urgency drove him on. His teeth clasped a nipple, and his tongue flicked against its hardness.
Lyra’s whimpers grew into moans as Kane moved against her, rigid in his need. Lyra could feel her own wetness responding to every stroke. His hands moved up her ribs, feeling her breasts as he bit; one hand rose to her throat and, in the same motion that he had used so violently the previous night, he squeezed. This time, he had no intention of causing injury, but the feeling of her falling to his strength was too delicious not to indulge in. Lyra did not fight, her body so consumed with pleasure; one touch in the right spot would have instantly tipped her over the edge. Just as the ecstasy began to consume her, Kane pulled away.
Lyra lay shaking; she could hear Kane fumbling around with his mask. His hands quickly covered her breasts with what remained of her shirt.
‘Kane?’ Lyra queried, wondering why he had abandoned her in her moment of wanton desire. Her hands reached for the blindfold and lifted it off. Kane’s face was once again covered, and he stood facing the door. ‘Kane, what is it?’ she asked. Almost immediately, the door swung open and Harlon staggered in.
The old man stared for a short time as he took in the scene before his eyes. A smirk swept over his face, and Lyra knew that he understood what had just happened. He fixated on Lyra’s semi-exposed body. Kane took one possessive step towards the man and towered over him, making Harlon turn his attention back to the monster.
‘I bought you something I thought you might need, boy,’ he said, pulling open his tatty old coat. ‘I got these off of…’ He cast his eyes back to Lyra and hesitated briefly. ‘Off of that business yesterday.’ Out of his pocket, he pulled a pair of handcuffs. ‘Thought they might come in useful,’ Harlon continued. ‘And I made you this.’ The old man rummaged back down his pocket and pulled out a scabbard.
In Lyra’s stupor, it took a few seconds to register what was occurring. The handcuffs; he had handcuffs, the sort a sheriff might use. Lyra winced; Sean was dead, fallen by Kane’s hand. Kane slid the handcuffs into a tool belt that he wore on his waist; he would not let them go to waste. Lyra watched him; she knew that the old man had only one reason for bringing them to Kane, so that he could chain her up! Lyra’s heart started to beat faster as she rose from her perverse trance and remembered that she was the beast’s prisoner. Kane’s hypersensitive ears heard his woman’s anxious heart racing as he fixed the scabbard to his thigh.
Lyra covered up her modesty as well as she could and sat up so that her back pressed against the sofa’s corner. Harlon eyed her again as Kane practised sheathing and unsheathing his machete. ‘You alright there, missy?’ he asked almost sympathetically. Lyra was not sure how to reply. She was a killer’s captive, and she had almost allowed her kidnapper to violate her; she wanted him to violate her. In her mind, she was far from alright, but to appease Kane, she simply answered,
‘Yes.’ Harlon nodded. The old man had only ever known Kane to kill and lived at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey to cope, but he had never seen Kane take a prisoner and he had no doubt of his intentions.
‘How about Old Harlon makes you some stew?’ the old man offered, not really knowing how to cope with Kane’s new proclivity. Lyra forced a smile.
‘That would be nice.’ She was not particularly hungry but knew that she had not eaten that day and realised that she would need to keep her strength up if she had any hope of outwitting her captor.
‘I have to go back to my place to make it, but I won’t be long,’ Harlon assured her with a nod before turning on his heel and leaving. Kane continued to rip his machete in and out of his scabbard with disturbing delight. Lyra watched the proficiency with which he wielded the weapon and wondered how he had seduced her so magnificently. He had brought her so close to peaking, and Lyra knew that, had he succeeded, she would be undone, lost to the monster.
Kane secured his machete in the scabbard and stared through the window into the woods. The woman’s breathing filled his ears, her breathing and her scent. She had made him feel sensations that were almost alien to him; she had a power over him that he could not fathom. His hand dropped to his tool belt and gathered the cuffs; if she was out of his way, then her power would diminish. Lyra’s heart missed a beat as he turned to her, holding the cuffs out. The man who was so passionate had turned once again into the monster.
Giant breaths consumed Kane as he stared at Lyra, handcuffs dangling ready at his fingertips. His chest heaved with a violent lust. Lyra recoiled, curling her knees up to her chest.
‘Kane, please don’t do this,’ she begged, pre-empting his intentions. The monster strode slowly and purposefully towards his victim. ‘Please, Kane, don’t do this,’ she pleaded again.
In one swift movement, the beast lifted Lyra and threw her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Lyra struggled against him, but to no avail. Kane strode to the hall and kicked open the trapdoor. He dropped down into the hole and strode to the corner basement beam. He loosened his grip on the woman and she slid down his body until he loomed over her and their bodies pressed together. Kane dropped his head and breathed in her scent.
‘Kane, please don’t do this!’ Lyra implored. ‘Don’t leave me down here.’ The scent of the woman combined with her begging was too much; Kane’s body hardened in response. He had to escape from the strange hold that overwhelmed him. He leaned into her, taking both of her tiny hands into his, and forced her down to the ground. As he did, he pushed her against the beam and dragged both hands around it, clasping them firmly together in the cuffs. The lock was secured tightly, biting into Lyra’s wrists. Kane stood quickly and strode towards the tunnels.
‘Kane!’ Lyra shouted in a final attempt to secure some freedom. ‘Don’t leave me here.’ Kane stopped dead in his tracks but did not turn. ‘Please, Kane,’ she whimpered one last time. Please, Kane. Her words caused so many sensations in the creature’s body. In response, he marched into the tunnels, leaving Lyra alone in the darkness.
