Swallow it Down - Addison Cain Page 0,35

was right far more often than he should be—who had claimed there would be blood. There would be, whatever remained of her already torn hymen annihilated.

Breathing too hard and too fast. Tense, embarrassingly nervous, legs shaking, and unbearably full of someone else, Eugenia held his eyes as he talked her through her first time.

Held them when he began to rock his hips. To fuck her.

Held them when it started to feel good despite the sting. His body working over hers, his lips singing praises. Hands keeping hers pinned by her head, so there didn’t need to be a struggle.

And she held them when, for some inexplicable reason, her vagina began to pulsate. When she joined his rhythm.

Climaxing all over the first cock that had ever been inside her—thrown by the force of it—she turned her head and bit his wrist until he bled just as she did.

Until her muffled scream came to an end, and she floated in between a placated body and a disconnected mind. Too stupid and inexperienced to grasp what followed upon his growl.

It wasn’t until he pulled out and a trickle escaped to drip over her anus that it registered.

He came inside her!

And because math is where she hid when everything needed to be sorted, counting the days, Eugenia knew it wasn’t safe. Tried to remember the probability of conceiving during ovulation, even as he laid kisses on every inch of her flesh he might plunder.

“It’s a six-percent chance, right? No, at my age, that can’t be right. Is it ten? Fuck, is it thirty?” Struggling under him, unsure why he wasn’t moving, considering this was the rule that was never broken, she shoved and shoved at a strong male body that would not be moved. “Do I wash it out?”

But there was no washing it out, not pinned as she was. Not when the captain was not in a talking mood no matter her panicked questions or attempts to reach down and remove what was turning from cream into a watery mess. Not when he refused to speak with her unless it was to lick at her breasts and tell her how delicious they were. Complimenting every last inch. Describing in detail how she’d felt around his cock.

Seeking out the secret places on her body that distracted and hardened her clit—that unlike past lovers he had no problem finding to tease.

He fucked her again and again. Made her come.

Ejaculated inside her with intention.

Until the sun came up and she begged for rest.

One of the most traumatic days of her life, followed by an inexplicable night that marked her as something she’d yet to come to terms with, too tired to fight back.

Someone sore and desperate for sleep. “Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, you know. I can’t keep up with you.”

On so many very fucked-up levels, she could not keep up with him in most ways.

“Rest, love.” There was another, sensual, deadly kiss before he turned her into his body, hooking his leg over her hip. His arm her pillow, the other one her prison.

Chapter Twelve

It wasn’t the sound of the shower that woke her. It was the door.

Joan bearing burlap bags of God only knew what. Joan with a friendly nod as if she had walked in on the familiar scene of another naked woman sitting up on the captain’s bed. Because this was commonplace, and Eugenia was no different than the rest of them.

The same women Eugenia had silently judged. The same women who had been far more savvy and now ultimately ten steps ahead of her. Who’d earn their freedom long before the uptight redhead did—the idiot redhead and her goddamn, unimportant virginity.

“Joan, I need your help.” It didn’t matter that she was naked, bruised thighs, lovebites, fingermarks, and other signs of exactly what happened on full display. It didn’t matter that Eugenia was frantic now that some sleep had returned her sense of reason. Only one thing mattered.

“Are you sore? I prepared an ice pack that should help with the swelling. It’s wrapped in soft towels you can rest right between your legs. And don’t forget to drink a lot of water and urinate often.”

How kindly sage advice was administered. How naturally, because this was a common event and the man truly did have a horse cock.

“No. Listen.” She took the old woman by the shoulders, knowing her kiss-swollen lips shook as she pleaded. “He came inside me. I didn’t know to stop him. The morning after pill? Is there