Forbidden Sensations: A Dark Romance by Savannah Rose (e book reader pc TXT) 📕

As I sat on the outcrop of rocks, waiting for a fish to bite and listening to the roar of the waves, I contemplated how I felt about it.

They were new feelings. Very foreign to me. I'd have to marinate on them for a while, but I suspected – just as I suspected Maddox's fuck-reliance could be used against him, ten points for me – I could grow to like those feelings.

I'd been a zombie for so long. Grieving was the only emotion I knew. All the better to enjoy myself, and being able to take revenge on the son of a bitch responsible for my misery was a gift from the gods.

The fates are funny like that.

So, to take care of him in a sense was a reasonable give-and-take.

I'd give.

I'd take.

I'd love every god damn minute of it.

Even if it killed him. Especially if it killed him.

I thought these lovely things as I washed my knife. A clean campsite is a happy camp site, and this little island had all the possibilities of becoming the happiest place on earth.

I swirled the boa around in the pot I was using to hold gray water, brought it out, and watched the drips fall from the blade. One by one. They were like tears.

“Hey, Sofia?”

I didn't turn around.

“Sofee, the cuffs. They're really hurting.”

Next to the pot, the rag-gag. It was super disgusting. And he was whining.

I took the knife, and the gag, back to where he was tied. His eyes got satisfyingly wide when he saw the shredded fabric in my hand. Parts of it had become stiff with dried fluids.

“Are you complaining, Maddy? Because I hate complainers. You're not a girly man, are you?” I asked, kneeling beside him. He tried to back away, but of course he couldn't go anywhere. “Nah. Maddox isn't a pussy. He's a big strong guy. He likes to tie women up because he's so big and strong and he has to show them just how big and strong he is. That he can do things to them that no other man has ever done. Hurt them like no other man has ever hurt them.”

I set the knife beside me, and snapped the rag in front of his face.

“Manly Maddy. He's a whiner, whiner, pants on fire,” I sang, and went to stuff it in his mouth. He shook his head, desperately, then craned his neck to the side, as far as he could.

“I won't talk, alright? I won't.”

“There's nothing wrong with talking. It's the pissing and moaning that I really can't stand.”

“Well, what… what do you want to talk about?”

Oh, interesting tactic, I thought. That gets an A for effort. He was also pleading with me in a roundabout way, and I found that pleasing in its haplessness.

“What should we talk about, dear?”

He turned back to me, still staring at his gag. Then he looked me in the eyes.

“Whatever you want.”

A smirk etched my lips. “Golly. Whatever I want? That's so bighearted of you. Hmm, let, me, think…” I stroked the handle of my knife, then took it up from the sand, wiped the granules away from it, and tapped it against my temple. Gave it a one Mississippi, two Mississippi. Three. “Oh! I know!”

I scampered over to my supplies, took his special bag from the midst of it, then brought it back over.

I was jubilant. A kid at Christmas. A dark, disturbed kid. And a creepy, horrible Christmas. I opened the bag and put my hands inside.

“You brought so many things for our trip! You're not a light packer, that's for sure,” I chuckled. “And for the life of me, I don't know what half of this stuff is for. I mean, I know you're a sexual fruit cake, but who needs this many toys? Someone who can't get it up? That isn't a problem with you, though, Maddy, now is it? Are these just for games? Games you like to play?”

“Yes,” he said. Quietly, too. Almost like he was embarrassed. Except, I knew that wasn’t the case because Maddox didn’t do embarrassed.

“Do your lady friends like to play your games?”

“I… I never hurt anybody.”

“Bullshit!” I screamed, and he flinched. Actually flinched. That was a genuine reaction. A fearful, involuntary response. I'd have to note the instinct in my journal. “You do hurt people, you asswiping son-of-a-fuck, and you're so smug, so conceited, you don't even know it. And the really fucked up part is, even if you did know…? You wouldn't care. That view you have from your ivory fucking tower is a dandy one, Maddox, but it's too high. You're so far off the ground you can't see anything for what it really is.”

“I don't know what you're –”

“Shut up,” I said, and found just the right accessory for what I was just talking about. A blindfold. How perfect was that? I twirled it on my finger, and smiled at it. Smiled at him. “This is your view, Maddy,” I said, and tied it around his head. Pulled it tight. Real tight. “Here's what you actually see.”

His breath was already becoming ragged. Hitched.

“You're a blind man, you bastard. A blind man with perfect vision,” I said, and put my hand against his cheek. Traced his cut with my fingertips. Watched as his chest expanded with deep, aggravated inhale, then exhale.

He really did have the perfect body. Lean and muscled, pecs that may as well have been sculpted from stone. His abdomen was ripped, too. A literal six pack – the kind nobody actually has outside of airbrushed magazine covers – and I found myself strangely attracted to it. Human beings are wired that way. So primitively. With all our knowledge and science and technology… deep down? We’re animals. Every. Single. One. Of. Us.

Maddox was a beast of a specimen. But he was also a trapped and helpless beast. All he could move were his legs, digging the heels of his feet