by Riley Ashby
Madeline
My mind swam with questions. When had my mother lived here? Had she been pregnant with me before she left? What drove her away? And perhaps most terrifying, what made her choose to be with a man like Conrad Schaf in the first place? I tried to remember the conversation at my birthday party, the exact words she and Conrad had exchanged. But all Meyer would give me was this evidence of his family’s cruelty, the intense loathing a person must possess to force a child to kill an innocent creature, given in good faith as a gift.
“Why did you bring me here?” I whirled on him, feeling new tears in my eyes. How many times had I cried in the past two days? Meyer stood only inches away, wearing that same cruel smile on his face. I could kiss that mouth or slap it. Maybe both. “Why are you so spiteful? I never did anything to you!” I tried to push past him, but no matter how I moved, he stepped in front of me. “I’m not your slave, Meyer, no matter what your psychopath father promised you. I’m never going to bow to you.”
His face darkened at the mention of his father. I was gathering that there was more to their relationship than I realized; the familial love between them seemed sparse, to say the least. “It’s not Conrad you have to blame for this. It’s your own mother.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I cried, but he turned away, keeping me in the dark. Refusing once more to clue me into this Hatfield and McCoy-esque feud I barely knew anything about. “Please, Meyer, tell me what’s going on. Why am I here?”
“You want the truth?”
“Yes!”
He turned back to me suddenly, and I pressed my back against the tree. Jagged bark scraped at my skin, but it was nothing compared to what I felt rolling off the man staring me down. He was furious. His eyes burned with unbridled anger. “You’re here because your whore of a mother couldn’t keep the promises she made. Promises that should have been sacred, she threw out the window like trash. You’re the payback, and you’re going to keep every last obligation she ran out on.”
My mind flew through what I knew, which was next to nothing. What promises could he be talking about? Promises to him or to his father? “That doesn’t tell me anything. You have to give me more.”
“I don’t have to give you anything.” He grabbed me again, and this time, he didn’t hold back. His fingers dug into my skin, bringing new bruises to the surface as I struggled to free myself. “That’s the entire point of this exercise. You’re mine for as long as I see fit. The rest of your life, however long that is.”
My blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”
He sneered. “There, you’re finally understanding this arrangement. What part of ‘I own you’ isn’t clear?”
I trembled. “You can’t mean you intend to …”
“What? Murder you? Take your life? Draw every last drop of blood from your body and send your corpse back to Eva in a black trash bag?” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “No, Mads, I don’t intend to do that, but don’t think that thought hasn’t crossed my mind a dozen times. And if you want it to stay a passing thought and not an inevitable future, you’d better learn to show me a little goddamn respect.” He grabbed my face, avoiding my bruises but holding my jaw tight enough to sting. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me? How your eyes linger on my body just as much as mine do on yours?”
I shook my head as I backed harder against the tree. “My God, Meyer. You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” His hands landed on my torso, over my bruise, but he didn’t push. He held me gently, almost tenderly, before stepping forward once more to press against me with the rest of his body. “Let’s experiment.”
“What are you talking about?” He let his hands drift down my front, caressing my body, and my chest started to ache as my breathing became shallower and more labored. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m not listening to you right now, Mads. Do you know why?”
I closed my eyes as he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of my shorts. Of course I knew. He’d only been telling me for the past seventy-two hours. “Because you don’t have to.”
“That’s right.” He whispered the words against my ear, and I whimpered a little—but not out of fear. God help me, I was so angry, but it felt so good for him to touch me like this. To hold me with a strange tenderness even though I knew he possessed none of the sentiment his touch seemed to convey. I’d felt nothing but dismay and dread for days, willing my body to heal so I could formulate a plan to get myself out of this. But now he was offering me warmth and reassurance, even if it was in his own commanding way, and the elemental nature of his need for control showed through every crack. I moaned as he drew a finger across my hip bone.
“I knew it.” One hand dived fully beneath my clothes, hand flush against my skin, fingers pushing and searching until he found that space between my legs. “Do you know what I feel?” His fingers tickled my skin, causing me to jump. My shirt tore against the tree. I knew he felt the wetness that allowed his fingers to slide easily against my lips. My arousal at being so close to him, smelling the clean perfume of his shampoo from his just-dried hair. I would have given anything to touch it.
I struggled to inhale. “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s an unconscious response.”
“Sometimes. But not right now.”
His forehead pressed against mine, and I turned my head as he sought my lips with his own. I would not kiss him. One finger pressed against my clit, and I summoned every ounce of will to keep from reacting outwardly. But inside, the stirrings of pleasure could not be ignored. The shiver traveled all the way to my brain.
“Please,” I whispered, halting before I uttered that word he’d forbidden me from using. His free hand shot up to wrap around my throat, forcing me to look at him, into those blue eyes that seemed, for now, to let me see into his soul.
“Please, what? Keep going?”
I was shaking with the effort of holding back. His fingers never stopped working, never ceased rubbing my clit and my skin and intensifying the arousal he’d manipulated out of me. “You can’t just ignore what I say. I’m a person, Meyer.”
He kissed my cheek softly, the one still so bruised and swollen from the night I was kidnapped. His lips were cool against my hot skin. Everything about him was cold; even when I was too warm, he seemed to run a few degrees lower.
“If you make another noise, I’m fucking you.” One of his fingers slipped past my defenses to slide inside me, hooking against that tender spot deep within while his thumb continued work on my clit. I bit down on my lip. “Let that be your warning. I won’t fuck you if you stay quiet. But I’m not stopping until you come, one way or another.” He ducked his head to kiss my neck, just over my pulse. My fingernails dug into his bicep, barely making a dent against his hard muscle. Even if I wanted to escape, I was helpless against him. And I wasn’t sure that I did. “You’ll crave me for everything. For every ounce of pleasure and even a certain amount of pain. I’ll break you down, Mads.”
He paused, and I opened my mouth to admonish him for the nickname before snapping my jaw shut again. He grinned and returned to my neck. Soft lips moved in time with his fingers; I felt lifted off the ground with how deeply he was pushing into me. “Things don’t have to be all bad. You give in to me a little bit, and I can make things better. But you do have to give in.”
I made one final attempt to free myself, but he gripped me too tightly, holding me in place with his fingers literally inside my body. I threw my arms around his neck and bit his shoulder as hard as I dared while he began to pump his hand, putting more pressure on me than ever before. My ragged pants betrayed just how good he was making me feel as loud air passed from my lungs, but I held back any actual vocalizations, knowing the consequences would be more than I could bear.
“You’re close, sweetheart. I can feel you pulsing around my fingers.” I jumped at the endearment. He laughed. “Don’t read into it. Just bedroom talk.”
I wanted to snap
at him that we were not lovers, so there would be no bedroom talk, but he was right. I was already nearly to the edge, and every spare ounce of energy was going into keeping quiet. He pressed one palm against my sternum to hold me in place, and then my head was pressing hard into the bark as I fell overboard.
“God, yes. You’re going to take my fingers off with that tight pussy.”
I brought my arm to my mouth and bit my own skin. I wouldn’t cave now—not when he was nearly done—but God, I didn’t want it to end. How he touched me so expertly pissed me off to no end. He had no right to make me feel this way after everything he’d done.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, Mads? Keep coming,” he whispered against my throat and lips, caressing my skin as gently as a butterfly’s wings. “I love the look on your face. It means you’re going to beg me to fuck you before long. You’ll be dying to have me get you off again. I’ll make you crawl to me first, but I’ll give you what you want. I’ll fuck you until you can’t see, and then I’ll fuck you some more. And I won’t stop until we’re both spent.” He kissed my neck tenderly, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the orgasm. He was touching me too softly for what I knew of his personality, and it didn’t make any sense.
I panted hard, reaching down to grab his wrist and still his movement when I couldn’t take any more. My legs jerked and snapped together, trying to stem the pleasure, but he didn’t stop moving until my final quiver had passed. He withdrew his hand from my clothes slowly, his fingers glistening with my wetness. I jerked away as he pushed them toward my mouth, but he just spread it against my cheek instead.
“I’m impressed. I didn’t expect you to keep quiet. It made me even harder.” To prove his point, he grabbed my hand and pressed it between his legs. He was thick, and my fingers twitched around him involuntarily. Finally, a whimper escaped me.
He grinned. “There it is. A little too late for me, though. A promise is a promise.”
“What do you know about keeping your word?” I spat as I jerked my hand away.
Frowning, he pushed off me and wiped his hand on his shirt. “Watch your mouth. Just because I did this for you doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to be flippant with me.”
I snarled at him. “You think you did me a favor just now?”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
“That’s not the point!” My cheeks flushed. “I’m going back to the house.” Finally, he let me push past him. I wiped at my face, but it only smeared my cum farther across my jaw. Leaves and twigs crackled softly beneath our shoes as he followed me.
“I hate you.” I didn’t bother to hide the tears in my voice. The last of my defenses were swept away. “You don’t need to do this to me.”
“Whether I need to or not, I did. And I’ll do it again if I want.” He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me against him, pressing his erection into my back as he bit my ear. I closed my eyes and shuddered. “And I think you’ll let me.”
Tears leaked from my eyes as he kissed my temple and pushed me away. I stumbled forward, tripping over roots and stones as I walked as quickly as I could toward the house.
Why did I let him do that? Why hadn’t I fought harder? He had something on me now. There was no pretending that didn’t happen.
No matter where we went from here, I knew that he wanted me, and I could no longer deny that as much as I loathed him, I wanted him too.
Madeline
I woke long after he did, blinking into the bright room as Meyer bustled around, dressing in his normal suit and tie. Just before he walked out the door, he leaned over to slice apart the rope holding me together. As the blood rushed to my fingers, my moan escaped into the morning light.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he said before walking out the door.
I laid on the floor for an hour, waiting to see if he would come back as I wondered if this was a trick. But eventually, the light through the windows hit my eyes. I rose and rustled through his drawers, finding several pairs of women’s underwear—all thongs—with more shorts and T-shirts. No bras.
He did promise me different clothes … I guess this is his idea of “nice.”
The events of the afternoon before with Meyer had shaken me. I’d expected the cruelty but not the blunt admission of his sadism. I figured he would want to use my body, but I never imagined I would enjoy it. That I would dream about it as I slept. I chalked it up to trauma and exhaustion, and chose to focus on the fact that I was in less pain than I had been for days. The pills had kicked in, and my ribs were blessedly numb.
Once I dressed, I pulled gently on the door handle. Surprisingly, it was open. I stepped out into the hall on tiptoes, uncertain if I was allowed to leave the room. I had been promised food, and my stomach rumbled unhappily. As if hearing the noise, Joshua stepped around the corner and walked toward me. I shrank back into the doorframe, but he held out his hand in greeting.
“Good morning. Would you like breakfast?”
“What time is it?”
“Only about eight thirty. Plenty of day left. Follow me.”
I stayed on his heels, suddenly afraid of being left behind to fend for myself within the halls. I tried to note the direction we were taking, thinking that after a few hours of real sleep and not unconsciousness brought on by physical trauma, I could devise an escape route. As it turned out, there was no need. The house was relatively small, smaller than I would have expected for someone as wealthy as Meyer Schaf. We were taking the same route we had taken to breakfast before, but this time, the sunny room was empty except for me. Even Joshua hovered out of sight, no doubt watching but unavailable for conversation. I ate in silence, pleased that the act had become a bit less painful. My gums no longer hurt quite so much as I chewed.
I had just finished my food when I heard a door open not far from me, and a female voice greeting and laughing while Joshua was silent. I stood, prepared to bolt, but then realized I had no reason to be afraid. I knew nothing of any female Schaf family members; it was likely another staff member.
That notion shattered the moment the girl entered the room. She was younger than me, with the same golden blond hair Meyer sported and that I knew Conrad had enjoyed in his younger days. It fell in soft waves across her pale face and seemed to punctuate the chirpy smile that was—impossibly—directed at me. Without so much as a hello or an introduction, the stranger walked right to me and pulled me into a hug as if we were already friends.
“How are you, dear? I’m so sorry I haven’t come by sooner. Daddy was being so secretive about what Meyer has been up to, and I only just now figured out you were here.”
She dropped her purse on the ground and fell into the chair Meyer had used the day before, crossing her legs in an elegant movement she must have practiced for years.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” I sat down gingerly, unsure about how to treat this newcomer. “I mean, I can tell you’re related to Meyer, but I didn’t think he had any sisters.”
She rolled her eyes and tossed a golden curtain of hair over her shoulder. “I’m Anita, the baby of the family. Daddy has painfully antiquarian views of a woman’s place in society, as I’m sure you are well aware. He’s kept me out of the public eye so far and probably plans to sell me off sooner or later. I can’t complain, though, because I have everything I need. Give a girl enough diamonds, and personal success doesn’t matter.”
To say I was blown back by her attitude was an understatement. It seemed Conrad wasn’t the only one with certain ideas of how women should behave. Still, she seemed happy enough.
“Anyway, I’m glad I caught you.” She reached across the table and grasped my wrist; her nails were painted a feminine pink but sharpened to dangerous peaks. The tips pressed into my flesh. “Meyer is so private. I never get to see his house, and it’s much more relaxed here than at the main house.”
Main house? Of course, Conrad must live on the property too. There would be no reason for Meyer to leave his father�
�s land when he had everything he needed here already.
I tried for a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Her hand waved dismissively. “No, it’s not. You’re bruised to hell and jumping at every shadow. But I think you’ll find me more amenable than Meyer. He and Daddy have always been so close; everything about them just rubs off on each other.”
I had no doubt of her words. I’d seen enough of their cruelty to last me a lifetime. What confused me was how she seemed to be aware of the cruelty but didn’t care about it. Was this so commonplace for her that she would barely bat an eye?
“How many people like me …?”
“People like you? You mean the offspring of Daddy’s ex-girlfriends who have been kidnapped and held hostage? Just you.” She flashed me a smile, teeth brilliant white. “You’re one of a kind.”
My own polite smile faltered. “You make it sound like a good thing.”
“Let me give you some advice.” She cocked her head at me, blond hair grazing the top of the table. When Joshua re-entered the room briefly and set a cup of coffee in front of her, she raised the mug to drink without acknowledging him. “Give Meyer what he wants. He’s never been as bloodthirsty as Daddy. If you’re nice to him, he’ll return the favor.”
Sure. Let him use me as his fuck toy, and he won’t beat the shit out of me anymore.
“I know it seems unconventional, but aren’t all the best love stories like that?” She winked and finished her coffee, then set the empty mug on the table and stood. “Let’s go poke around. I’m never here as much as I’d like.”
She took me around the house, showing me the rooms previously behind locked doors. There was a basement I hadn’t known about before with a home theater where we watched a few episodes of trashy reality TV together. Anita chattered the entire time about her job—secretary work for a middle manager at her father’s company who didn’t care if or when she showed up to work—and her self-care regimen of manicures, pedicures, massages, and facials she had on a bi-weekly rotation.
