Chain Of Pleasure

Chapter 15

She won't keep up with the days, the passage of time. He doesn't leave her a lot and that means frequent f*****g wherever and whenever he likes; her back hurts, hair roots are still tender. When he does leave, he's gone for too long and she actually want's him back. She wants to feel him near her, the safety and insanity he provides, but she knows its always short lived on either side of his erratic spectrum.

She gets paranoid easily, being stuck alone in camp, watching people through the dark blinds made to resemble wood. When they noticed her, she snaps the blinds closed and wanders about the house. She doesn't go through his things anymore, doesn't want him to explode on her. But she wants to see that little boy again, the happy one, wants to see the one he has to call brother.

He says his name in his sleep.

She'll wake up, or still be up depending on how many aches and pains he leaves her with before he sleeps so peacefully, and he'll be begging for that name.

Sam.

It'll be a hushed whisper or a pained one, an accusing one, a begging one.

It almost hurts, to hear him sound so damn small when he was usually the barbarian trooping around the camp.

And she watches him out there too. Never gets allowed out, but she watches him going all alpha on anyone doing something stupid, when he's giving his little addresses before he leaves camp.

And she sees them.

The women, the ones that give him hungry looks.

She shouldn't care, because he doesn't give them those looks back and he promises her in his own way that he doesn't even think of them.

And she shouldn't be jealous, because he's not her lover and he's certainly not a boyfriend, a love interest. He's her owner, a tyrant, but she can't help but feel possessive over him.

She needed to get out.

He is, today, out hunting this thing called the Colt while she and Cas sit in the cabin; she's cooking for the both of them, thankful Edward finally got the hint she needed food in the cabin. The situation is so frequent Cas even hums now, reading a book Marceline can't even comprehend because its in another language. He's been at this thing for days, he's even completely sober where as she noticed the drug use was becoming a frequent visitor to his heavy head.

"Is uh. . ." She hesitated, turning around with a rusty spoon in hand. "Is that. . .a good book?"

Castiel chuckled and Marceline blushed, turning back to the pot. "No, but its very important so reading it is. . .a pleasant chore," his eyes flickered over her back; he could see the bruises itching up her throat. "I thought he was being more gentle."

Marceline tensed but shook her head. "Um. . .no, not really," she whispered, but he could hear her. "I thought he was but he seemed to notice too and. . ." She scrunched up her face and looked back at him. "Can we just. . .not talk about him? Or rather. . .our pathetic s*x life?"

Cas nodded softly, straightening himself on the couch as she clicked off the stove. "You did not have to do this," he assured her.

Marceline smiled softly and set out two bowls. "It would have been rude to not offer you something," crappy, throw together soup but it was better than nothing. "And its not exactly gourmet."

He hummed softly as she held out his bowl to him, amusing her as she watched an actual angel get excited over soup. "Nutrition is a foreign thing to handle," he murmured. "I have never had to worry about it before. . ." He flexed his fingers in front of his face. "It would seem my grace is leaving me faster and faster each day."

Marceline frowned, chewing softly before she spoke. "You're not. . .not going to die, are you?"

He shook his head immediately and dropped his hand. "No, I will just be as human as you or Edward soon enough."

"I don't think he qualifies as human some days," she sighed softly to herself. "I wanted to get my stuff the other day. . .but I was afraid to ask him."

"Where are your possessions?"

Marceline shook her head. "Out on the highway, where everyone else left their stuff. But I doubt anything is left. So I just. . .let it go or whatever," she sighed and stirred her food. "Not like he'd take me. . ."

"Perhaps I -"

"No," she said firmly - or, she tried to sound firm, in truth her voice shook at the thought Edward could hear them somehow. "Its fine, really, it doesn't matter at all. Its foolish to think even a scrap of paper survived with all of that looting and shit."

Castiel seemed to deflate and sulk into his food, which made Marceline frown but she didn't say anything else. She wouldn't get him in trouble, and she also didn't want to face Edward's wraths should he get wind of whatever Castiel could come up with. She wouldn't be responsible for that cluster f**k, she could barely manage her own. But she did feel bad for making Castiel look so sullen, he looked like she had cussed him out or kicked a puppy in front of him.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," she finally murmured, setting down her empty bowl.

Castiel gave her a confused look. "You did nothing wrong," he paused. "I was just remembering Edward's apparent need to keep you hold up in this little cabin at all times. . .people ask about you, most of the words are not kind."

"I don't care about them," she snapped, but not at him. "There are more important things to worry about than gossip."

"That is true," Castiel cleared his throat and set his bowl down, straightening himself. "We have a scavenging team to put together this week and Edward has decided to bring you with us. He says you are quite talented with a rifle."

"But. . .why," she shook her head. "Why does he want to bring me. . .just because I can shoot? That doesn't. . .but he won't let me out to eat with anyone? I can't even wash my damn clothes!"

"Oh sweetie," f**k. "You just want me to snap, don't you?"

Marceline looked over at Edward in what could only be described as terror, her hands shaking but he looked amused, not angry. She didn't breathe a sigh of relief though, she couldn't make herself move when though her muscles begged for her to f*****g run.

He leaned his rifle against the wall beside the door and stretched his arms over his head, striding past them in a calm manner. Castiel gave Marceline a confused look and then cleared his throat, standing from his seat on the couch; Marceline jumped to her feet, hands clasped in front of her.

"Don't leave me yet," she pleaded in a barely audible whisper.

"He will not hurt you," Cas said in a tone so soothing, Marceline almost believed him. "Survive the night, our trip starts tomorrow."

Marceline sighed as Castiel brushed past her, headed for the door. She gave his retreating figure a desperate look before she gave in and grabbed their bowls, shuffling towards the sink. It took her maybe ten seconds with her frantic scrubbing in freezing cold water, but she had them cleaned and Edward was still nowhere to be found. She leaned back against the counter, knuckles white on the edge; she could hear the pipes rattle, he was in the shower.

She chewed softly on her bottom lip and pushed off of the counter, shuffling towards the stairs. His grimy clothes were scattered around the door, she could hear his cussing about the cold water inside the bathroom. She sighed, pulling her shirt over her shoulder and tossing it onto the floor, her fingers picking at the buckle of her jeans.

And then she sits on the edge of the bed like a good girl, staring at her toes and waiting. She wasn't so much reluctant to do so as she was concerned about how she was. . .decidedly turned on.

Yes she was a bit reluctant, but waiting for him, knowing what he could do - it turned her on.

I am so incredibly f****d. . .and not even literally, yet.

Maybe Cas was right, maybe Edward would be kinder, maybe he wouldn't hurt her because of her stupid outburst. She should have been more careful, should be grateful that he even held up his end of her dumb ass bargain with her life. He was keeping her safe, he wasn't using her however he wanted even though she had already given him the option. She had it nice, she had it cushy, she shouldn't complain one damn bit.

She wouldn't, not from this moment -

She jumped whenever there was a touch on her knee, her eyes flying up to Edward's. No fight when he spread her legs, situating himself between them on his knees. She trembled once as he gripped her hips, pulling her just a little closer to him; was it possible, she found that yes she could get closer.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, heat slowly building on the back of her neck. "For. . .for what I said -"

"I don't give a f**k," he said it simply, like he were discussing the weather and not further scaring the s**t out of her. "You're coming on the road with us, we'll be gone a couple of nights," his fingers ran up her slit, making her fingers clench in the sheets. "So no f*****g until we get back, don't need those assholes lookin at you like that."

"I don't want to go," she pleaded softly, whimpering when he pressed his face against her stomach. "I-I wanna stay here."

"Too bad baby girl," his breath burst against her thigh, chilled other places. "I need another gun I can trust with me, they all keep lookin at me like I've lost it."

She didn't make a comment.

Instead, Marceline reached up and threaded her fingers through his damp hair; even then, it felt great between her fingers. He hummed slightly, nuzzling deeper into her skin, nipping at heat the area in reach; she jerked at the first, the second, relaxed when they became lazy, awkwardly spaced bites. She didn't quite understand Edward, because now he was just as sweet and tender as she imagined he could manage. He wasn't bending her over the bed or growling at her, just tenderly wrapping himself around her, vocalizing his pleasure with her petting by humming every now and again.

He had to know what he was doing to her.

Making her care about him, want him, love him. She would rather him use her however he wanted because at least then she wouldn't be confused, would know her duties for life were being met.

"Ah," she jerked beneath his tongue, found it nosing its way towards her slit. "Edward please -"

"Nuh uh," his eyes flickered up towards hers, watching her arch as he prodded her clit. "You're practically drippin baby, don't even try."

And she didn't, her vocal protests fell where they started and she spread her thighs, eyes closing tightly as he cleared a trail between her tender lips. Her fingers tightened where they stilled in his hair, pulling tenderly at the roots when he flicked his tongue over her clit. His hands spread her thighs, one easing in to stroke and probe her opening.

"Don' know how I'm gonna go days without doin this," his words sent light vibrations through her and Marceline groaned, bucking her hips up towards his mouth. "But waiting always makes it better in my experience."

Every idea she had about him vanished for the moment, took a temporary leave and all she wanted was for him to touch her just the way he was. He was very good at what he was doing after all.

"Tell me," she whined when he spoke again, because his lips were so close, teasing sensitive skin. "Do you regret the deal? Well, I mean, that's obvious that you do and its understandable, and I don't care but is it really that bad? You're alive. . .you're well fed obviously," okay, now the blushing wasn't just because of her arousal. "But all I see is you looking so sour, pouting, bitching to Cas. And I wouldn't b***h to him, he can just get you into a whole new world of s**t with me believe it."

Oddly, she did.

"Here's the thing," she twitched when the mattress sinks around her, her eyes watching him as he climbed up her body with those intimidating green eyes. "You're gonna have to start beggin for the s**t, and I don't mean with little things like you fingering yourself for me, although that was a pretty good little move."

"Edward -"

"Let me talk, b***h," she would have rathered him have snarled it at her, not speak with such playfulness behind angry eyes. "You're gonna start doin just as I said, I think I've let you get way too cushy here. Layin up all the time, too many orgasms for such a bad little girl."

Chills.

Chills like a motherfucker.

"Now, don't get me wrong, I love watching you c*m. You make all these fun little noises, squeeze my c**k so well. . .but that's just giving you a reward for being bad."

"Edward," she squirmed a little, feeling him stroking between her thighs softly. "J-Just. . .please don't. . .humiliate me."

"Oh sweetheart," he reached up, wet fingers pushing hair from her face. "I'll do whatever I want to, to you and you'll like it, got me?"

She hesitated but nodded softly. "Yes. . ."

"Yes what?"

She swallowed thickly. "Yes, sir," her voice was so soft, she was afraid he would make her speak louder.

But he hummed, a pleased smile on his face. "Good girl," her breath hitched in her throat as he roughly thrust two fingers into her. "What? Don't act so surprised, I planned on fuckin you and you know that."

She didn't really care about what he was saying, she could only feel him and it blocked out any other focus. It hurt, but he had already built her up so easily, she fell just as hard. She gripped his wrist, she gripped his shoulder, her head rolling back and her chest arching up against him. She liked feeling that cold skin against hers; God she was so f****d in the head because she didn't even care about whether he made her beg or not, because she wanted it.

"Edward," she whimpered against the rough skin of his shoulder, her hips trying to wiggle back away from his reach but he just followed with a smirk against her throat. "D-Edward its starting to h-hurt," she whined.

"Oh baby girl," he whispered into her ear, leaving rough bites up her throat. "You think that hurts. . ."

"De -"

"What the f**k did I say," he growled against the shell of her ear.

Marceline trembled, twisting this way and that, trying to pull away from him. Her skin was on fire, her p***y tender and almost sore from his rough fingering. But his thumb was working on her clit and quick jolts of pleasure were starting to hit her again.

She looked down when he pulled his fingers from her dripping s*x, eyes flickering up to his when he placed the wet hand against her hip. His face was so placid, serene, she didn't want to know what he wanted next. She flinched away from his hand when he raised it to her face, but he followed and brushed back the hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. His lips pressed against that wet skin, cool breath billowing out through his nose before he spoke.

"I want you to beg," he whispered against her skin, moving down with his eyes so close. "I want you to beg for this c**k, okay? And you better put on quite the show because if you're not convincing. . ." He smiled softly. "I'll f**k that pretty little mouth of yours. . .and you won't like that one bit."

Her eyes only widened a fraction, considering she had already expected this. "O-Okay," she whispered. "I-I mean y-yes sir. . ."

His smile turned just a little more towards a pleased smirk. "Good girl," he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Now. . .I want you to start now, m'kay?"

"Yes sir," humiliation heated her cheeks.

Edward smirked against her chin and she held her breath as he started to move down her chest, his kisses hot and wet. He nuzzled the pliable flesh of her right breast, his tongue running over her n****e and she arched into his mouth.

"Edward," she moaned, her fingers threading into his hair.

He cupped her other breast in his hand, squeezing it roughly, his thumb stroking against the tender peek as he rolled the other between his teeth. She could feel that traitor between her thighs getting warmer, aching for him. He bit down roughly on her n****e and she thrust her chest harder into his mouth.

"D-Edward!" She squeezed her thighs together, her hips rocking side to side. "Edward please! I-It hurts!"

"Oh baby," he murmured, grabbing her hips and pulling her p***y just that bit closer to his talented mouth. "Just like that. . ."

Marceline bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, thighs trembling around his head in honest fear of what he would do. She was still bruised down there from his harsh biting, maybe he would get mad if she didn't beg for this and do it again.

But he didn't do anything.

She opened her eyes slowly, looking down between her thighs and to Edward's placid glance. She wiggled her hips a little and he had that hint of mischievousness in his eyes when he brushed his lips softly against hers.

"Edward," she whispered in a questioning tone, voice slightly husky.

Chills climbed her skin as he breathed slowly against her hot, aching p***y. He c****d his head softly when she whined low in her throat when he blew over her again, his hands slowly spreading her thighs.

"D-Edward," she winced as the muscles in her thighs stretched with his forcefulness, spreading her open to him until her cheeks were a bright red even in the dying light. "Edward please, please. . ."

"Please what," he questioned, his tongue dancing close enough to her skin for it to tickle. "Come on baby girl, tell me what you want."

"P-Please lick. . ." She took a breath. "Pl-Please lick my p***y," she sounded more like she was whining about chores.

He chuckled low in his throat. "I don't know if that was convincing enough, doll."

She whined for real this time, her hips jerking up. "Edward please," she fisted a hand in the sheets. "Its starting to hurt. . ."

"You have to tell me what to do, baby," dear lord. . .

Marceline swallowed thickly. "Please lick my p***y, Edward," she bucked her hips up towards his mouth but he moved that precious inch back. "Please Edward, make me c*m! Please Edward just f*****g eat me! Bite me, lick me - j-just please," her voice trailed off into a desperate whine.

He hummed softly, definitely amused at the way she twisted and tried to avoid eye contact. Her thighs continued to tremble and jump; she needed him, she needed him to just touch her a little more. Even though she hurt, she needed him to make her c*m again, if it was just. . .one more time.

Marceline's chest expanded with a heavy breath as his tongue curled between her thighs, brushing over her core and clit. She released a heavy moan and let her head roll to the side, her lips parting silently as he ran his tongue slowly in circles around her clit. His tongue thrust into her, her muscles jumping at the wage of pleasure that ran over her.

"Edward," she cooed, tightening a hand in his hair, hard. "Y-You're so. . .so good at this. . ."

"I know baby girl," he thrust two fingers back into her, albeit a tad more gently. "Just worry bout gettin there. . ."

She hated him.

"I-I think 'm close," she whispered, her back arching slightly as her eyes rolled back into her head. "D-Edward please. . .I want you to f**k me, Edward. Please, I need you to. . .to. . ."

"No need ta tell me twice," she could almost hear the smirk, felt his wet lips against hers before she even noticed he had moved. "Next time, you're gonna have to perform for me a little bit to get that o****m," her skin burned where he kissed her. "Ready for me baby?"

Her breath hitched as he ran his c**k against her tender p***y, a soft mewl coming from her lips. "I need you, Edward," she whispered, raking her hand back through his hair, lingering on the back of his neck; his eyes were so green. "I need you to. . ." She hesitated and then changed her mind. "I need you to f**k me Edward," her muscles clenched around him as he thrust into her.

Her fingers untangled from the sheet, choosing to tighten with his hand before he did it as he always did. He didn't even seem to notice, instead focusing on those hard thrusts that had her breath quickening. It still hurt, but she was already close, so close, she could bear it just. . .just a little longer.

Marceline panted and rolled her head back, her hips meeting his hard thrusts. Her nails begged to dig into his scarred skin, take angry red lines down his arms, but when she tried to out pressure her body went slack and could only seen to focus on that peek getting inevitably closer to her reach.

"Harder," she begged, her hips bucking desperately against his. "Edward, harder!"

She'd thought she said something wrong when he let her hand go, his chest almost literally peeling off of hers. She looked up between her breasts, watching him grab himself and look at her with urgent, lust filled eyes.

"Get on on your f*****g hands and knees," he ordered.

Marceline trembled and complied, feeling the bed shift as he maneuvered himself against her. He grabbed her hips and dug his fingers of his right hand into her hip, his left hand leaving her skin. She knew where it was, but it was still unexpected when he thrust into her.

Marceline yelped at the feeling of her p***y being stretched deeper, pounded and stretched. He hurt her, each hard thrust of his hips drove her to an even more intense excitement though. Her hands tightened in the sheets as her eyes closed, head sinking down as she raised her ass up to him like the good b***h she was. She wanted it, wanted to feel him f*****g her wet p***y, stretching her tightly around its thick girth. He was rough and it felt amazing, which made her hate herself just a little bit more but her o****m was fast approach again and she wouldn't dare protest.

"F-f**k. . .ngh, f**k, Edward. . ." Marceline whimpered, her thighs trembling. "I'm gonna c*m," she met his thrust harder, if it were possible. "f**k, D-Edward!"

Edward grunted as she came, her p***y squeezing his d**k, trying to pull him over the edge but he wasn't ready. He pulled her hips back against his, her walls tightening again as she moaned and twitched, cumming again.

His ego inflated a little more.

After the third o****m, he couldn't hold out any longer, feeling the knot tightening beneath his skin as she screamed out his name. Windows open, breeze rolling in, Marceline definitely could see herself no longer caring if they all knew who he was f*****g.

So long as no one else touched him.

Marceline twitched and slowly sank down towards the mattress, her chest heaving as Edward scrambled around her still-raised hips. He grabbed them to bruise and slammed her back against his still hips, a groan coming from him as he came.

"Damn you're a good f**k," he muttered as he lay beside her, an arm thrown over his face. "At least ya got somethin going for you."

Marceline almost sighed, settled for throwing an arm over his chest. He twisted his head a little, staring at her through hooded eyes. Marceline blinked slowly, nuzzling her face against the sheets a little because she was crying. His jaw rocked back and forth a little, his eyes disappearing against his arm again and Marceline rolled away from him, towards the edge of the bed. She tucked her hands against the side of her face and curled her legs up a little.

Stupid. . .stupid, stupid, stupid. . .

"Get some sleep," the bed shifted behind her, dipped. "I meant it when I said I want you with the team."

Marceline ground her teeth. "I. . I gave myself to you so I didn't have to fight," she whispered. "So I could live and. . .you want me to go out there and risk my life?"

"You said anything I wanted," he said, but he didn't sound angry at all. "You're here to please me, and what pleases me aside from that tight cunt of yours is for someone I can trust at my back."

"You. . .you trust me?"

"I sleep with ya, don't I," he paused. "Don't think too hard on it girl, I just know you don't have the balls to shoot me."

"But I don't wanna be shot," she hissed in a near sob. "I-I don't wanna be torn apart!"

"I'm gonna be there," he said slowly, like she was dumb. "Nothings gonna happen to you."

"But you don't know that," she whispered.

"This is over," his voice changed, lowered; he was getting mad. "Get some f*****g sleep."

Marceline sighed in defeat, reaching back blindly for something to cover herself with, only managing to grab enough of the blanket to cover her ass.

She wouldn't talk him out of this.

"I highly recommend not doing this."

"Cas, we don't have time for this shit."

"But Edward -"

Edward slammed his hand down on the table and Marceline jumped, her teeth grinding together. Cas hesitates, his hand still hovering over one of the tattoos that was pulsing in mild discomfort; whether it was a reaction to his touch, or just being a d**k, she couldn't tell.

"We do not have the time," he growled. "We have to hurry before they move. Now, get your gun, and you," he pointed at Marceline. "Get your gun and get in the back of the f*****g truck."

He jerked back really fast and Marceline jumped, biting her lip as she watched Edward stomp out of the cabin. She looked back over at Cas, who was shaking his head in mild disapointment.

"What's wrong," she whispered.

He looked over at her. "Something feels off with the markings than they had when you first came to us. . .I do not like the feeling."

"I don't think he really cares," she wiggled off of the table he had her sitting on. "Lets just. . .get this over with."

Cas nodded and followed close at her side, his fingers tight on the strap over his shoulder. When she stepped outside, Marceline almost smiled, but she just shielded her eyes. But he knew she was happy to be outside, he could see her fingers trembling. She looked around at the alien faces and very few paid her any attention, those that did quickly looked away. The only ones to really look at her were already near the idling vehicles; they didn't look happy. Marceline jumped when she felt the rough fabric of Cas' jacket rub against her arm; he gave her an encouraging, small smile.

"They're not happy I'm going," she murmured.

Cas nodded. "They believe you are unfit for a fight, Edward took the blame for that."

"He what?"

"He blamed himself for keeping you in the bedroom and not fighting, he tried to convince them you were not useless. . ."

"I doubt all of that is true," she mumbled, fingertips dancing over the handle of the gun tucked into the back of her jeans. "But it doesn't matter, he already told me I don't have a choice in this so I don't have to try and make nice with anyone," she paused. "Pretty sure he'll just lock me back up in there when we get back. . .if we get back."

She tagged names, men and women, a group of ten, and sat with Cas in the back of the truck, her legs spread out in front of her. Edward seemed to busy arguing with a bald man over what direction to take on the map; how was he able to not run into a tree driving like this? Marceline and Cas bounced around in the back, her fingers raking down her thigh.

The marks were beginning to itch horribly, which was more of a concern than her dying; it could end up as something much worse. Her mind picked through them, back to the men that had forced them on her skin. They had spoke in a weird language, had this manic look about them as they tied her down so firmly she had barely been able to move. She had been so sure they were prepared to r**e her, with the ties and the fact that they had stripped her clean. There had been one to bathe her in freezing cold water, make sure she was squeaky clean and then they had pulled out a crude set to ink her skin.

She hated them.

She had been confused immensely when they just snapped the ties and made a break for it, leaving no trace of themselves behind; they had even washed her clothes.

Marceline had seen Cas reading on a book with at least one of the patterns on the cover, but when she asked about it he would just tell her it was idle reading and go about his business.

She didn't want to push the only soul kind to her.

Speaking of him. . .

She looked down at the hand he had taken and squeezed, seeing a reassuring, wide eyed smile on his face. "You will do fine, Marceline," he let her hand go and she smiled. "Edward and I, we will keep you safe. He does not want you to be a slave forever."

Madeline furrowed her brow. "Wh. . .What?"

"He is giving you a chance," he said it so close to her ear she got a chill. "Fight, or stay a slave. He wants you to fight for it."

Marceline kept her brow furrowed as he pulled away, a weird little smile on his face. She hesitated and twisted her head a little, looking at Edward's angry griping in the rearview mirror. She pursed her lips slightly and readjusted her seating, shaking her head as she watched the trees pass by.

Cas had to be high.