The thought of having a child with Andrés—of having a family again after losing my parents—made something tug in my chest.
He started petting me again. “That’s for the best,” he said, sounding as though he was talking to himself as much as to me. “You need to take the pill.”
“I… okay.” It was the rational thing to do.
But then why were my eyes stinging?
“You were upset because I was gone?” he asked, cuddling me close. “Then I’ll stay. Do you want your collar back on? I thought you resented it.”
“I, um, I got used to it. I like it,” I amended truthfully. “It makes me feel safe. Like you’re with me, even when you’re not here. But I’d rather not be chained to the bed,” I added. It would be nice to be able to take care of myself during the day, instead of relying on Lauren for everything. In a weird way, part of me would miss it, knowing Andrés was thinking about me waiting in his bed. It seemed I’d developed a kink to match his.
He traced the line of my jaw, rubbed his thumb along my lower lip. “You can have your collar, but I’m not going anywhere. I left this morning to see my brother. I was convincing him to give me more time with you.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I’d thought he’d been playing me this whole time, but he’d been honest with me from the beginning. Yes, his kinky games were meant to train me in how to please him, but everything he did was ultimately meant to protect me. He wanted me to cooperate for his brother so Cristian wouldn’t hurt me.
“I still don’t want to work for him,” I said quietly. “It goes against everything I believe in.”
“I know. I’ve read enough about your superheroes to see that.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
He sighed, his eyes clouding with anxiety. “I don’t know yet. I’ll figure something out.”
“We’ll figure something out,” I told him. I was no longer willing to sit around and wait for rescue. Cristian was the one threatening me, not Andrés. He wasn’t my captor, he was my protector.
He stared at me with something like awe, cupping my cheeks in his hands before pressing his lips to mine.
Despite the horrible memories that had just resurfaced, I didn’t flinch away from his masculine touch. I leaned into him and parted my lips, offering myself to him. I wanted him to claim me. I wanted to be his.
Chapter 20
Andrés held the final bite of bacon to my lips, and I playfully nipped at his fingers as I took it. His lips curved up in a doting smile. There was no sharp warning in his eyes, no rebuke. Just pleasure.
He’d held me all day after my ordeal and cuddled me close through two nightmares involving my uncle. It had been a difficult night, but he’d comforted me and kissed me back to sleep.
This morning, he was staying late again. I worried about our timeline with Cristian, but Andrés didn’t seem to want to leave me.
That suited me just fine, because I didn’t want him to leave, either. Until we figured out how to deal with Cristian, I didn’t want him to face his cruel older brother.
“Yesterday, you said you wanted your collar,” Andrés murmured, trailing his fingers along my bare neck. “Do you still want it?”
“Yes,” I said immediately, leaning into his touch.
He beamed at me. “Then you’ll have it.”
He lifted me off his lap where we’d been cuddled on the bed and went to the chest of drawers. When he turned back to me, he held the thin strip of black leather in both hands, touching it with careful reverence.
“Kneel for me.” It was an order, but there was a hint of trepidation in his tone that made it clear that I could refuse. He wanted me to choose to obey. He wanted me to choose him.
I got up off the bed and sank to my knees before him, moving more gracefully than I ever would have imagined I was capable of. He’d never asked me to kneel for him before, but I knew how to present myself from what I’d seen online. I spread my thighs so my pussy was open to him, and I pulled my arms behind my back, placing my hands on the opposite elbows. The position made my back arch, offering my small breasts to him. Keeping my spine straight, I bowed my head and waited to feel the leather kiss my throat.
He was silent for a long moment. Then his fingers brushed over the top of my head, trailing down through my hair before exploring the line of my jaw. His forefinger curled beneath my chin, and he lifted my face so I looked up into his dark gaze. The light flashed against his eyes, making them shine brighter than I’d ever seen.
“You are so beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “So perfect. Mí sirenita.”
I flushed with pleasure. “So are you.”
I still saw his scars clearly, but they weren’t repulsive. They were physical reminders of his vulnerability. They were slices in his armor, and he’d allowed me to open them up and look inside to the man underneath the monster.
He stared down at me in awe. “You’re not scared of me? I don’t frighten you?”
“No,” I promised. “I’m not scared of you, Andrés.”
His lips parted, as though he was about to speak. Then he closed them and swallowed hard. His eyes shone with a worshipful light as he brought the collar up to my throat and wrapped the leather around my neck.
I heaved out a sigh of relief at the familiar, reassuring feel of it encircling my throat, a physical reminder of our connection.
“Mine,” he said, tracing the line of the collar.
“Yours,” I replied with fervor.
He bent down and gripped my waist, lifting me up and guiding me back down onto the bed.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice strained with need.
He was asking my permission. He didn’t want to push me after the dark memories that had risen up to torment me.
But those memories couldn’t destroy my desire for Andrés. He’d taken me in his harsh hands and ripped down all my barriers, helping me conquer my fears, even when I didn’t understand them.
“Always,” I promised, taking his hand and moving it between my legs so he could feel my desire for him. “I want you.”
He groaned and grasped my ankles, pulling my ass to the edge of the bed before resting my calves against his shoulders. Still standing while I lay on my back, he gripped my hips and entered me in one hard thrust.
I cried out as he stretched me, my lingering soreness from our first time making me hyperaware of his size.
He paused, his brow furrowing. His dark eyes studied me, tight with concern.
I placed my hands atop his, curling his fingers deeper into my hips. “Please, Andrés…”
A low sound of longing left his chest, and he withdrew from me before slowly pushing all the way back in. He claimed me in long, careful strokes, playing with my clit and lighting my body up with pleasure.
He fucked me until I saw stars, and we both came undone.
No. Deep in my soul, I knew that wasn’t right. He didn’t fuck me.
We made love.
***
Love.
I was still contemplating my feelings hours later, as Andrés and I lay tangled in the sheets. He’d dozed off for a while after we’d had sex, but I’d been wide awake, my brain buzzing.
I had feelings for him. On a rational level, I had to acknowledge that they’d been building within me for weeks.
But love?
It was insane. He was a dangerous drug lord. How could I share a life with a man like him?
I hadn’t thought about a future with him before. I’d just been living day to day, vaguely planning my escape with waning enthusiasm.
I didn’t see how I could be with him in any real way.
And that made my heart twist in my chest.
There was one obvious way out of this that I could see, but it put him at risk: I could pretend to work for Cristian, and I’d get a message back to my friends at the Bureau. They’d come in to rescue me, and they’d arrest Cristian for abducting me.
They’d also want to arrest Andrés
.
I couldn’t let that happen. I might be able to arrange immunity for him if he turned on his brother, but that wasn’t a guarantee.
I could also try convincing Andrés to give me access to a phone, so I could call my friends. That way, I wouldn’t have to face Cristian at all.
It still wouldn’t guarantee his safety, though. I couldn’t see how to get back to my life without betraying Andrés.
But the idea of going back to my life without him in it made my chest ache. I wasn’t ready for my time with him to end, even if I didn’t want to stay locked in this penthouse forever.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his fingertips brushing over the furrow in my brow.
I blinked and propped up from where I’d been resting against his chest.
“I thought you were asleep,” I said instead of answering.
“I was, but I could hear you thinking.” He gave me a languorous smile and stroked my hair back from my cheek. “You do have a very busy mind.”
“Let me guess. You’re going to help me make it go all quiet and blissful?” I was only half-teasing. That sounded kind of nice right now. It would free me from my inner turmoil.
“I can, if that’s what you need,” he said. “But I like your clever brain.”
“You do?” He’d never openly expressed admiration for my intellect before. After our games of chess, I’d come to suspect it, but he’d never said it outright. It made my heart do a funny flip. I’d worried so many times that he saw me as nothing more than a pet, but actually respected me as an intelligent woman.
“Of course,” he replied. “You challenge me. I find you fascinating. Did you not know?”
“I…” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “No. I guess I didn’t know that. Not for sure.”
“I should tell you more often, then.”
He was being so sweet. I just wanted to melt into him, to feel his weight settle over me as he drove deep inside me, connecting us intimately.
His fingers curled beneath my chin, lifting my face so he could study my expression. “Did I make you sad?”
“No,” I said, my voice catching. “That… means a lot to me.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I don’t want to leave,” I whispered. “I don’t want to leave you, but I should.”
His jaw firmed, his eyes flaring. “You’re still thinking about how to escape?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, yes. I mean, I want to get out of working for Cristian. I don’t want to spend my days locked in this penthouse, fearing the day your brother comes for me. And if you really value my mind like you say you do, you won’t want that for me, either.”
He scowled. “This is the safest place for you. You should fear Cristian. This is the only way I know how to protect you.”
“This isn’t the life I want,” I said, desperate. “I can’t stay trapped in a cage forever. I need to do something meaningful. I need to help people.”
“You’ve been reading too many comic books. You can’t be a superhero, Samantha. You’re far too breakable, and I won’t put you at risk.”
“I can be a hero,” I informed him, anger rising. “I used to do it every day, before you took me. I had a life. I had purpose.”
He wrapped his arms around me and rolled, settling his heavy weight on me so I was pinned beneath him. “Your life is with me now,” he said, his voice rough. “And my purpose is to protect you.”
“You won’t be able to keep me from Cristian forever,” I tried to reason with him. “Let me call my friends at the Bureau. If you go into hiding before they come for Cristian, I can cover your tracks. They won’t find you. You’ll be safe.”
“And what about you?” His black eyes burned into me. “Where will you be while I’m in hiding? Will you go back to your friends? To your Dex?”
“I… I don’t know,” I whispered, torn. I didn’t want to go back to my life without Andrés.
“You’re mine,” he snarled. His cock was hard against me, pressing at the entrance to my sex. “And you’re not going anywhere. Not back to your Dex. And not to my brother. You belong to me.”
“I’m yours,” I agreed. “But I can’t—”
He crushed his lips to mine, silencing me on a warning growl. My body heated for him, and I softened under his onslaught. My pussy grew slick with arousal. As soon as I moaned against his mouth, he thrust into me in one brutal, possessive stroke.
He fucked me hard, claiming me in deep, merciless thrusts. My body welcomed his ferocity. Because I didn’t want him to let me go. I didn’t want to return to my old life and have Andrés disappear forever.
I couldn’t yet see a clear path to a future with him, but I knew I didn’t want to lose him. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him impossibly deeper, welcoming his harsh claim over me.
Chapter 21
Andrés woke me early the next morning with a soft kiss against my neck. I turned my head, offering him better access. He rumbled his approval, the sound humming against my sensitive skin as he nipped at me. I pressed my ass back against his erection in wanton invitation, my body awakening for him before my mind was fully aware.
“It’s time for your punishment,” he murmured against my neck.
“Punishment?” I asked sleepily, not at all alarmed by the threat. “Why?”
“You tried to escape,” he reminded me, but he sounded more aroused than upset. “That was very naughty, gatita. I’ve owed you a punishment for days.”
“Oh. Okay,” I agreed, knowing he needed this from me. After almost losing me, he needed to see me bound and begging for him. And I needed it, too. I felt guilty and foolish for thinking he didn’t care about me, especially after our last few days of intense intimacy. A little pain and his forgiveness would absolve me.
He kissed the tender spot he’d bitten. “Good girl.”
He gave me a few minutes for my morning routine, and I emerged from the bathroom with my teeth brushed and face freshly washed. He was waiting for me, his powerful body on full display where he stood at the threshold to the sitting room. He held out his hand, beckoning me toward him.
“Come.”
I crossed the bedroom and placed my hand in his, allowing him to lead me to the playroom. I knew pain was coming, but my body heated at the prospect. He’d conditioned me to enjoy a little pain. Or maybe I’d always been built this way. I’d gotten aroused when he’d spanked me the first time, on the day I woke up in his bed after my capture, scared and confused.
I wasn’t scared anymore. Not of the pain, and not of Andrés.
I followed where he led, trusting him implicitly even as we entered the room that had once terrified me. We came to a stop at the far wall, where he kept a multitude of implements designed for my torment hanging in neat, orderly rows.
He selected a length of crimson rope, and I shivered in anticipation. I’d come to love rope: the slightly earthy smell of hemp, the rough fibers that stimulated my sensitive skin. I felt secure when he bound me so thoroughly. He often used leather cuffs to strap me down, but rope was more intimate, methodical. Almost artistic. I was his to mold and shape, to bend and stretch into whatever position he desired, making me into something beautiful to be admired.
I took a deep breath and released it on a long, shuddering sigh as he began to wind the rope around me, forming a familiar harness around my chest. He took extra time and care to create a pretty lattice pattern above my breasts, turning my body into his work of art.
When he was finished tightening the rope around my chest, he drew my arms behind my back, binding them together from shoulder to wrist, until my back arched and my breasts stood out proudly, my nipples peaked and throbbing for his attention.
He tied off his work and took another length of rope, feeding it through the large metal ring bolted into the thick wooden beam above my head. He then looped it through the bindings on my arms, pulling them up behind me so I was forced to bend at the waist. My bre
aths came faster, shallower as carnal need began to take hold of all my senses. I spread my legs without him having to issue a command, wantonly offering my wet pussy to him.
Satisfied with my helpless state, he knotted the ropes in place and stepped back. He took a long minute to admire me, but he didn’t touch me. I whined for his attention, but he returned to the wall to select the next item for my punishment.
He held up the shiny set of rubber-tipped nipple clamps so I could see them clearly. A chain dangled between them, decorated with little red gemstones. It was pretty and perverted and perfect. I wanted the pinch of the clamps, the pull of the swaying chain as he toyed with it. I wanted him to take full control of my body; my pain, my pleasure.
He came back to me and lightly cupped my breasts, his calloused fingertips barely skimming my flesh as his palms kissed my tight, aching nipples. I tried to lean into him, but the ropes kept me trapped. The sense of helplessness I had once feared now sent me soaring, granting me the sweetest release. I put myself fully in Andrés’ domineering hands. I was his to play with, his to punish, his to cherish.
He began to roll my nipples between his fingers, preparing me for the harsher bite of the clamps. When I whimpered and wiggled, torn between wanting relief and craving more, he caught my tight peaks in the clamps. I cried out as he turned the screws on the sides, slowly increasing the pressure to ensure they’d stay firmly in place when he tugged on the chain that connected them. I hissed out a breath and struggled to adjust to the pinch.
As I settled into acceptance, euphoria flooded my mind. He flicked the gems that dangled from the chain, and it swayed beneath me, tormenting me sweetly. I moaned, and my eyes slid closed as my head dropped forward, my weight sagging into the ropes that held me so securely. They shifted around me, tightening and caressing, embracing me.
I felt his heat recede, but my eyes remained closed as I drew in short, panting breaths. As my chest rose and fell, the chain tugged at my nipples. Every little hit of pain sizzled through me, sending scorching lines of pleasure straight to my clit. My inner thighs grew slick with my arousal, and my core contracted, eager for him to fill me.
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