Property

by Renard, Loki

  I can hear his grunts and his growls. I know he’s close. Is he going to come inside me? The thought sparks another one of those mini-climaxes that race through my exhausted nervous system, just as he pulls out, drops me down to my knees, fists his hand in my hair and tilts my head back so his cum can splash over my face, hot thick ropes of masculine-scented seed claiming my skin.

  “Oh, fuck!” I splutter, turning my head away, but it is too late. I am soaked in cum.

  He lets out a dark, breathless chuckle and pulls me up to my feet.

  “Come on,” he says. “Time to go.”

  I am marched naked through what used to be my home, but doesn’t feel like it anymore, all the way up to the roof where a helicopter stands waiting. It’s not one of mine. It is jet black and the golden logo emblazoned across the doors and nose is a stylized lion. Suddenly, my brain starts working again. I don’t recognize the man holding me, but I sure as hell recognize that brand.

  “You work for Darko Lijander?”

  That name has been on everyone’s lips for months. A billionaire out of Eastern Europe, there are rumors flying about how he made his money in poor war-torn nations. He has been the subject of many, many conversations, but the man himself never made an appearance at any of our functions, or any of those I’ve attended.

  My captor’s lips quirk. “Something like that. Get in.”

  He guides me into the back of the helicopter, his cum still clinging to my skin. I smell of him. I look like... I can’t even imagine how torrid and trashy I must appear. He gets into the pilot’s seat and at his command the blades begin to spin.

  I am being kidnapped from my home.

  I start to scream, but the rushing sound of the propellers takes the sound away and soon we are too high over the city, which looks like a play set from this distance, for anyone to hear me. Nobody is going to save me.

  Chapter Two

  Chloe

  We fly into the darkness for a very long time, hours spent choppering through the night, without any kind of words of comfort or hope. His cum is still drying on my face and my chest. If this helicopter goes down, I am going to be as humiliated in death as I am in life.

  Finally, the helicopter lands. The thunder of the blades subsides and the sound of the outside world comes rushing in when he opens his door and gets out.

  I hear water all around us.

  Waves breaking on a shore.

  The sun is rising quickly, brilliant red rays shooting over the horizon and casting a glow over endless ocean. He has taken the world away and replaced it with something else. Gone is the city I used to rule. Gone are the people and the buildings and the car and the noise.

  I find myself on top of a house set on a small island. And I do mean small. I can see from one side of it to the other from the perch at the top of the building where the helicopter has landed. And I can see nothing else. There’s nothing on this island. Not a tree. Not a cow. Not a cat. Not a person. At the far end of the island there’s a confused-looking penguin. It looks as out of place as I feel.

  “Out you get, princess.” My captor takes me by the arm and pulls me out of the chopper. There’s someone waiting for us, a man wearing a suit. A man just like Miles, but younger. He looks at me with a bland, blank expression, the sort that people who have seen too much have. Ex-military, I’d guess.

  My captor speaks to him in some language I don’t understand and takes me down a flight of stairs leading into his island lair. What awaits is cold and minimalist. The sort of house someone who only needs walls, a floor, and a ceiling lives in. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the island light. It would be beautiful, but it’s just... functional.

  The floors don’t have carpets or rugs. Not even wood. It’s polished rock of some kind.

  Stone. Steel. Glass. This place would be practically institutional if it weren’t for the fact that there is a designer’s touch.

  “You live like a psychopath.”

  He lets out a low chuckle and nudges me through a set of doors. They lead into a bedroom with a very large bed, an open en-suite with a very large shower, and... a cage. A barred cage in the corner of the room. Not a crate, like you’d have for a dog, but a human-sized one.

  He catches me staring and just smirks at me.

  I change the subject before it can even begin.

  “You’re after my father’s fortune, aren’t you. Well, you won’t get it. It’s held in trusts if I die. Our lawyers made damn sure there was no incentive to kill us.”

  “I’m not going to kill you, Chloe. I would think that was obvious by now,” he drawls. “One death in the family is enough, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Don’t you bring up my father, you sicko,” I hiss, suddenly so angry I forget to be scared.

  “I’m going to bring him up, and many others,” he says, his voice calm and even, those green eyes focused clearly on me. “You have a lot to learn, little girl. And apparently, you need to learn it the hard way.”

  “What do you mean? You’ve just abducted me from my home. How is this the easy way? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’ve tried to get your attention in the past, but you’re a hard young lady to pin down.”

  “You mustn’t have tried very hard.”

  “Oh, I did. I just followed the official channels, usual protocol, and you, Chloe, ignored every message I sent and refused to take every call I made.”

  “I get a lot of calls. My secretary deals with my emails. That’s no reason to...”

  “Capture you and fuck you? Oh, I don’t know. I think there’s plenty of reason to do that.” He smiles again, that wild, rakish grin. “I’m enjoying this much more than I would have the other way. And I’ll enjoy what comes next too.”

  “What’s next? You just use me? You hold me captive? You think the police won’t notice I’m missing?”

  “You were gone a hundred and twenty-four days out of three hundred and sixty-five last year,” he says. “And for sixty-nine of them, you weren’t in contact with anyone. You’ve established yourself as a runaway. I reckon I’ve got a good two months with you, princess, and I’m going to make the most of that time.”

  I take a step away from him before realizing it doesn’t matter what I do. This island is so small and so barren there is no place to hide. He’s stripped me of my clothing and my riches, and he’s taken me to a place just as stripped down.

  “Please,” I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. “Just tell me why you’re doing this?”

  “I’ll tell you everything, in time,” he says, his voice softening. “But you need to be in the right frame of mind to hear it, or you won’t believe me. I’m going to have to show you so much more than I can tell you.”

  He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Would you like a bath?”

  “Well, you did interrupt my shower...” I say, just managing to crack the hint of a smile.

  “I did,” he agrees with a short laugh. “A bath it will be, and then we will talk. About who you really are, and what you will become.”

  He runs the bath for me and stays beside me as I get in, washing me tenderly. I am so confused by this man, but of course, that’s what he wants me to be. He wants me off guard. He wants me not to know if he is my enemy or my friend. The way he took me back in my penthouse, I could make him a monster for that except for the fact that I surrendered to every bit of it, besides the spanking.

  “What’s your name? Why are you working for Darko?”

  His eyes narrow a fraction. “If you had answered a single email, or taken a single call, you would know the answer to that question. I am Darko. This is my home, and my island, that was my helicopter. And you are my newest, most elegant toy.”

  I would be more embarrassed about not knowing who he is if not for that word he just used.

  “T-toy?”

  His fingers drift against my skin, beneath the warm water. His touch is soothing, but his words aren’t.

  “You inherite
d your father’s fortune. Every bit of it. But you don’t know how to run it. You don’t even know how to open an email and respond to it, apparently, so you’re not fit for the task which lies ahead of you.”

  “What do you mean? And you’re not Darko. You don’t sound... foreign.”

  “I was educated in American academies,” he explains. “I can sound however I please...” He drops into a sexy Serbian accent that sends tingles through my flesh. I’d never admit it, but that voice does things to me. Frightens me. Excites me. Arouses me.

  There is something thick and volatile in his voice, something dark and devious.

  “Darko,” I say. “You can’t do this. You can’t keep me. Sooner or later, people will look for me.”

  “They won’t find you. And I don’t need to keep you here forever. I just need to keep you here long enough to teach you the lessons you should have learned before you ever got anywhere near controlling your father’s empire.”

  “It’s not my father’s empire. It’s mine now.”

  His brow rises. “Is that a hint of the desire it takes to wield that much power? Pity you didn’t find that spark before, Chloe. Pity you didn’t pay attention until someone made you pay attention, because this is going to be so much harder for you now.”

  “You’re talking in riddles...” I gasp as his fingers slide up over my hip and inside my thighs, trailing up toward my pussy. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” He smiles and lets his fingertips drift toward my sex. He knows how to distract me, how to keep me off guard. My thoughts still again, caught in the slow, sensual motion of his fingers.

  “Stop... making me...” My head falls back, my voice getting huskier as his touch draws ever closer to my sex.

  There’s a soft chuckle, and his fingers slide away in the wrong direction.

  I let out a little whimper and look at him. Those dark eyes are fixed on me with a fierce intensity and his handsome face is a mask of triumph. He has me right where he wants me in so many ways.

  “Stop what? Using you for what you were made for?”

  “I wasn’t made for this.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’re a beautiful young woman, but you don’t serve any other discernible purpose. As far as I can tell your life up until this point has been a series of parties occasionally interspersed with the need to apply cosmetics.”

  His words are insulting, cruel, and correct. I’m not all I could be, but I am all I am, and what I am is... a waste. I’ve always known it, at the back of my mind. I’ve always felt a lingering sense of guilt for how much easier my life is than everyone else’s. There are people with problems in the world, but I’m not one of them.

  Until now.

  Now I have a real problem. Now I am a captive. Now my father’s estate is at risk. Now Darko could take everything I took for granted away from me. I could lose everything. I might have already lost myself.

  “You grew up sheltered. You never knew what it was to be hungry, or to be worried about a roof over your head. You got everything you ever wanted handed to you.”

  “I’m spoiled, I get it.”

  “No. You’re worse than spoiled. You’re broken. Useless to yourself, or anyone else. But I’ll find a use for you, Chloe. I’ll give you work to do. You’ll learn the value of a day’s long, hard labor.”

  I am about to call him a very rude name, but his fingers slam into my pussy, two of them pushing deep inside me and all I can do is gasp as he fingers me roughly in the bath, the water splashing over the edge of the ceramic as my thighs part to allow him even deeper.

  If this is punishment, I want to be bad.

  “You fucking... asshole.”

  Asshole is as far a title from Master as I can get in that moment. I know he’s going to punish me for it.

  I don’t have to wait long.

  He pulls me out of the bath, his big hands digging into my damp flesh as he bends me over the ceramic and for a second time his cock plunges deep inside me. I gasp, shocked by the sudden sex. I don’t know what I was expecting him to do. Something else. Not this. Something more subtle, maybe, but I’m learning that Darko is not subtle. He is swift and he is brutal.

  The wetness of my pussy sounds lewd as the bathwater laps around my breasts. I reach out to grasp the other side of the bath, hoping to keep my head above the water, but occasionally it dips lower and then my face is submerged as his powerful dick slides in and out of me, pleasuring me and punishing me at the same time.

  In between the thrusts, his palm slaps my wet bottom, harsh and hard.

  “You need to behave yourself, Chloe.”

  “I was behaving myself!”

  “You called me a name,” he says, his hand underneath my throat, gripping and keeping me in place. His hips surge up to my ass, his cock buried deep inside. I am dripping with bathwater. I am moaning with pleasure. This is absolutely decadent. I am being thoroughly used—and I love it.

  I come and come again. My body reacts to him like a drug, my hips ride forward, and my clit finds the relative cool of the porcelain and I rut myself there, my cunt squeezing his cock with a desperate, basic need.

  Come inside me. Fuck it. Just fill me up. Make me yours. Make this real.

  The thought keeps running through my head, but he doesn’t, of course. He is too careful for that. He is not caught in the same desperate sexual abyss that I have fallen into. I am clutching at every little piece of pleasure as if I am afraid it will disappear at any moment—because I am afraid it will.

  He comes on my ass and back and then he puts me back into the bath and bathes it all off me again, washing every drip of cum from my skin until I am pink and clean and ready for use again. I have stopped resisting now. My sex aches in the best of ways, and my mind is blissfully empty. I finally understand what it means to have my brains fucked out.

  “Time for you to get some rest,” he says, helping me from the bath and wrapping me in a large, soft towel. Ensconced in warmth, I close my eyes and I pretend that this isn’t happening the way it is happening. I pretend that he is a real lover and that I am still an innocent heiress, happily enjoying my life.

  I let him lead me from the bathroom without resistance and back into his bedroom. The cage awaits.

  If I were in my normal frame of mind, I would look at it with horror. I would panic and I would protest. I would beg for his mercy and promise anything not to be put inside. But now, in this void of feeling, I can’t bring myself to care.

  Darko leads me into the cage and I go. The door closes behind me and I am trapped, but no more so than I was before I walked into the cage. No more than I have been my entire life.

  The man who calls himself my master smiles through the bars. I am too tired to give voice to what is left of my outrage, and what is the point? In the end, he will pay for this. In the meantime I may as well... enjoy it? Submit to it? Whatever you call it, it sounds perverse, but I have no intention of wasting my energy on battles I can’t win.

  I sit down on the cushions he was kind enough to provide. I know he thinks they’re a kindness. I know he’s a twisted, bitter fuck of a man. He is a good fuck though.

  * * *

  Darko

  This isn’t going as I thought it would. I expected a lot more resistance, many more signs and shows of weakness. I thought I would break her almost instantly, the first moment my cock met her cunt. I was wrong then. And I am wrong again now.

  The smile fades from my lips as she sits there, naked and so beautifully, regally defiant. This was not my plan. I thought I’d be a necessary monster, breaking through the layers of her complacency. Instead, I feel simply like a monster with little to no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

  “What? You want me to cry? You want me to beg you to let me go? I know you’re not going to, so what’s the point?” She cocks her head to the side and those pretty lips quirk into a smirk.

  The point is supposed to be that she has lost control and can’t help her reaction. But apparentl
y, she can.

  She curls up on those cushions and she looks almost satisfied, her eyes closing, catlike as she gets comfortable. I almost regret putting her in there. This first night isn’t supposed to be pleasant. It’s supposed to be one she never forgets. I thought she’d cry and whine in there. I thought I might have to comfort her a little, teach her she needs to stay quiet in there, but she’s already perfectly quiet.

  I watch her, wondering what will come next. What is it I’m doing here, if I am not making the kind of impression that will forever warn her against men of my kind?

  I’m trying to ruin her, that’s at the core of it, I remind myself. I’m trying to break her to my will.

  “I can take anything you do to me,” she says, barely opening her eyes. “I’m stronger than you think.”

  “Obviously,” I drawl. “Goodnight, Chloe.”

  Chapter Three

  Chloe

  The day turns to dark.

  I am alone in the cage, and I don’t like it, but I have to tolerate it. Darko doesn’t realize, but I know precisely how to deal with this. I have been in cages my whole life. I’ve grown up in one. Maybe it wasn’t physical, but it was mental. It was in the way the world treated me, and in the expectations placed on me. I have never had the freedom people imagined money gave me. I was always controlled in how I dressed, what I ate, the words that came out of my mouth. Even when I was very small, I was not permitted to play in the dirt, because nice girls don’t do that. Every natural impulse I had was stifled, twisted, and contained until I became the thing my family wanted me to be.

  Now I am all that is left, and in some perverted way, being locked up in this metal box might actually be the freest I’ve ever been. In here I am nothing but what I let myself be. I’m his captive, but I can shrug that off far more easily than I’ve ever been able to shrug off the weight of being Chloe Parker-Baskerville. Sitting here naked and contained, that woman seems a stranger to the one I am right now.