Make Me Yours Evermore, Book 3

By: Cari Silverwood


Once more I owe a debt to those who have helped me figure out where I went wrong with my writing of this book. Whenever I did wander off the beaten path, I had my wonderfully insane crit partner Sorcha Black there to smack me over the head with something and bring me to my senses. Thank you. The MRI came out normal.

I also need to thank my sensational beta readers Bianca Sarble (a fellow Aussie author), Mj, Heidi Gillespie, and Lina Sacher.

Chapter 1


Dark. Then light filtered in. The fluttering wash of light, dark, light, dark occupied me as we bumped over something. My shoulder would feel numb and I’d shift but my hands were tied. Not much I could do.

Bondage wasn’t my thing.

That thought popped up and stayed a while before it drifted away like so many others. My heart beat erratically. My thoughts followed like sheep. I struggled and caught that thought again. Bondage wasn’t my thing. Then what was I doing tied up? My wrists were trapped before me. My ankles were caught. My mouth had something in it. My eyes were blind and I couldn’t lift my eyelids – trapped also. A blindfold?

Chris. Panic slithered in and with it came clarity. Fuck him. He’d done this. I needed to get loose. I bit down on the gag as I writhed, but solid walls encased me and the gag stayed where it was. I lay on my side. My elbow thumped painfully into something above me. My bare toes did too at my front. My breathing rasped wetly, bubbling past the thing in my mouth. Just lifting my ribs became a hundred, thousand times more important than anything.

I dragged in air as something rocked whatever coffin it was I occupied. Distant voices. Man? Or more? Men? There seemed two different voices.

My teeth sank into rubber. My tongue tip slipped over the wet roundness.

Ball gag.

The bastard. He kidnapped me. He put it there between my lips. I remembered him, remembered his words.

“I’m going to get into your head right there. Where you can never ever get me out.”

“You’re going to be blind for a few days. When I take this off, you’ll be somewhere far from civilization. There will be no one who can help you. There will only be me.”

I knew where I was. There’d been an engine noise before, long ago. A car. He had me in a car. I slumped. Drowsiness returned and snuggled into my mind. I was hot and tired and breathing meant more to me than getting loose. Breathe. One last kick. Maybe that other man will hear me. Maybe he’ll let me go.

I kicked and nearly broke my toe on timber. But metal creaked and the car rocked again. I listened, ears straining. Waves? Seagulls screeching? Brighter light flared through the tape across my eyes. Someone had turned up the volume on the sound. There were distant voices. Waves. Yes. Was I still on the island?

“Put that down, man. Get out of the car and walk away.”

“The fuck I will. You’ve got a woman tied up in here! What the fuck…is this a scene thing? One of your kinky pretend things?”

“Andreas. You need to leave. Now.”

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. The shit you get up to. Give me a call when you and her have finished fucking your brains out. Or whatever you intend to do.”

Going? He was going? Despite the sogginess permeating my brain, I knew that was bad. I needed to make noise. I tried to speak but only gurgles emerged. I coughed and found liquid clogging my throat where words should have been.

“She’s choking!”

“Fuck. The dose might have been a bit high. Listen. Ignore anything she says.”

Fingers fumbled at my mouth. The thing was pulled from me, leaving my lips feeling bereft without the pressure. I breathed. Deep, cool air. Coughed again. The fog closed in.

Storms ahead. Words of no sense popped up when I needed sense. What was that other word?

“You okay?” Thick fingers brushed my cheek. Gentle.

No. I’m not. I’m not. I’m… “Kidnapped,” I croaked.

“What? What did you say?”

“Andreas. Ignore. You don’t butt in on a scene.”

I swallowed then choked on that word again. “Kidnapped. Please. Need help.” I was blind and my tongue was made of sludge but somewhere in front of me was a man who could save me.

“Chris. What is this? What shit is this? Dose? Even I know you don’t use drugs with BDSM.”

Someone sighed – long and deep. Chris spoke. “Right. Let me explain, Andreas. There are good reasons.”

“Jesus. Reasons?” His voice rose high at the end. A long pause.

“I can explain.”

“She’s… How can you possibly explain this? You’re more than a brother to me, you know that. But this…this had better be good. Like, I mean, better than anything you’ve ever explained…ever.”