by Kitty Thomas
She'd been broken when he'd brought her. Unlike Shannon. But then also so very much like Shannon in the anger painted in deep scars across her back. He'd made it a point to watch over her and keep her shielded from Brian.
He'd been understandably alarmed about Mina's safety when Brian had stopped a sale to claim her as his own. Lindsay had been sure it was some sick obsession that could only end in harm coming to her, but against all reasonable odds, something in her seemed to soothe the thing that was broken and raging inside Brian. But Brian had never forgiven him for meddling in the matter.
Lindsay hopped on a treadmill on the other side of the gym and started running, trying equally to ignore Brian and to stop thinking about the woman sleeping upstairs in his bed.
Brian's treadmill stopped, but the classical piano music kept playing. The other man moved to the treadmill next to Lindsay and started running again.
“So, Doc,” Brian said, not sparing him a glance, focused entirely on running to or from all the things he ran to or from on the nights he couldn't sleep.
Lindsay wondered if Brian still had the nightmares. They'd stopped treatment and Brian had become a black box from which no secret ever slipped. Not that Brian had ever been much of an open book. The things that lurked inside his mind existed inside a deep pit that even most grown men dared not tread into.
“So... Doc,” Brian repeated, this time with a hint of mockery in his tone, “trying some new therapy with our girl?”
Word did travel fast in the house. No doubt, Brian had gone straight to Anton as soon as the sale was complete for details. Lindsay felt his grip tighten against the rails of the treadmill.
“She's not our girl,” Lindsay said evenly. “She's my girl. Don't forget it.”
Brian laughed. “Oh, I thought we were sharing. After the way you inserted yourself between me and Mina. Is that not what we're doing? Come on... you know you want to. Let me... play with her. You can play with Mina. Let's see who can leave the most interesting marks.”
Lindsay tried not to let Brian's taunts get to him. There was no reality in which Brian would ever share Mina. The house sociopath was just trying to get inside his head. The man forgot who he was playing with.
Lindsay stopped his treadmill, got off, and went to stand in front of Brian's. He looked him dead in the eye. “If you touch her, the house will have a new resident killer. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, Doc. You're real scary. I'm not too worried. I hear you only kill from neglect. Sort of funny for a plant guy.” Brian shut off his own treadmill and turned the music off. He gave Lindsay a good long stare down, then shook his head, chuckled, and left without another word.
Lindsay followed him out into the hallway to make sure Brian wasn't going to bother Shannon. When he turned down the hallway that led to the dungeons and his own room with Mina, Lindsay went back into the fitness room.
Brian's presence was still palpable in the room as if all his personal demons had set up camp there instead of following him back down to Mina where they could find quiet. Lindsay got back on the treadmill and ran. This time, the only sound in the room was the machine humming and his feet beating against the conveyor belt.
The past twenty-four hours had not unfolded the way he'd intended. Something had snapped inside him when he'd almost lost her the night before. Without his full consent something deep within his lizard brain had laid claim to her. It hissed endlessly in his ear, Mine. Mine. Mine. There was an unreasonable certainty to the word.
He'd wanted to take things slow. What if this feeling somehow wore off? He couldn't commit to her until he was sure. He couldn't drag her into something he couldn't finish. He needed to take some time, go slow. Be sure. But then he'd bought her.
And now that he had her, instead of fucking her, or training her into the perfect little slave to fulfill his every fantasy and request... he was letting her sleep! Like some poor lovesick fool. Did he plan to woo her? Bring her flowers and candy? Take her to the movies like two normal people?
Neither of them had even the vaguest idea anymore what normal looked like.
Here he was, trying to run his libido ragged until he was too tired for the signal of desire to travel from his brain to his dick—or the other way around as the case may be.
He looked up suddenly to see her standing there in the doorway, watching him. It was as if his spirit had briefly left him to awaken her and draw her to his side. She wore only his dress shirt that he'd worn to the office that day. Not the move of a woman who hated him. If she hated him, why would she wrap herself inside his scent? It was a wild, almost animal thing to do. Maybe her lizard brain was hissing, too.
If she only knew the words that had just passed between him and Brian, she wouldn't venture through the house like this—tantalizingly half-naked in the middle of the night.
Lindsay turned off the treadmill, but he couldn't turn off the thing in his mind that said run, stalk, catch, capture, take, possess. He strode decisively toward her.
Whatever intent she'd seen in his eyes was enough to startle her into running from him. She didn't go for the main entryway and the stairs but instead ran down the hallway toward the cafeteria—no doubt a place she thought was safe... neutral.
Lindsay's legs were much longer and stronger than hers. It only took a minute to catch her, to pin her against the wall here in this wide open space where there was nowhere to hide.
Shannon panted, gasping to catch her breath. Lindsay held her wrists trapped against the wall. They stood a few yards away from the buffet Phyllis would be filling with food soon. In a few hours there would be talk and laughter and sunlight in this room. A safety he couldn't offer her now.
For a long moment they stared at each other—predator and prey—a silent ancient understanding passing between them.
“Why did you run?” he asked, breaking the spell.
“Why did you chase me?”
He couldn't help but notice she hadn't used the word Master yet. The last man she'd used that title for had been the man who'd driven her to Lindsay's office in the city in the first place.
“If you open your mouth again, it had better be to address me properly.”
She looked away. Not defiance. Shyness. Interesting development.
“Look at me.”
She turned back, her breathing normal now. He slipped his hand between her legs. No panties. Good girl. She was wet and ready for him. How many nights had she been left wanting because he hadn't been there to take care of her?
She'd obviously come down here looking for him tonight... looking for this. Otherwise, why wouldn't she put on more clothes to wander the halls? Why would she leave herself so open and vulnerable to him?
“Do not take your eyes off mine or there will be consequences.”
The clock on the wall above them ticked loudly in the stillness. He was sure she felt his erection pressed against her. And yet, she didn't squirm away from it.
Right now they were a million miles away from this same room twenty-four hours ago when he'd been making tea and she'd seemed so fragile and barely of this world. At the time he'd had the odd notion to fuck her back into living, but now, in this moment, he knew the truth. He'd been living the same half-life as her, barely existing inside the shadow of Brian's cruelty.
The only difference was that he'd had more distraction and less pain than Shannon's part in this drama. It was the only reason he hadn't seen his own emptiness—the emptiness that he saw reflected back to him now in guileless chocolate-colored eyes.
He'd wanted to seduce her, warm her up, bring her over more slowly. It was a complete lie that he'd make her beg him to fuck her. Or that fucking was only for good girls. Fucking was for her. Good or bad.
“Please,” she whispered. She opened her legs wider and thrust her hips up at him in an achingly beautiful invitation to his cock.
Fuck it. He had plenty of time to be creative with her. There was nothing more perfect than this moment—running down prey a
nd fucking it against the cafeteria wall.
“Master, please,” she whispered again.
That word he wanted from her finally tumbling from her lips so sweetly.
He let out a low groan when he entered her. She was breathtakingly tight, further evidence she'd been with no one in years. She felt like a virgin. She was so wet and pliant and open. How the hell did they get to this moment? How the hell had they not gotten to it sooner?
He took her like he knew she'd needed to be taken since he'd first laid eyes on her. He drove into her far too savagely for someone who hadn't been with a man in so long, but he wanted to sear the feel of his cock into her mind forever. Let there be no question who the fuck owned her.
In their frenzied joining, the cafeteria became a blend of ticking, rhythmic pounding against the wall, and the soft pants and moans coming from Shannon's sweet mouth as she bucked against him meeting him thrust for thrust.
To her credit she didn't look away when she came, her cunt pulsing around him. Nor did she break his gaze when he did the same. He kept her pressed against the wall, her wrists still pinned over her head. And they just looked at each other, their breathing harsh. It was as though they had a secret now between them. Even though the whole house would know in mere hours.
***
Shannon laid in bed pretending to sleep as Lindsay got ready to go into the city. She'd replayed the previous night in her mind about a hundred times already.
“Shannon,” he called from the bathroom.
Fuck. She'd hoped she could feign sleep until he was out of the house. She didn't think she could look at him today after the previous night. What had happened between them downstairs in the cafeteria, while it may not have been some complex kink game, it had been so raw. And so soon. But when he'd pinned her against the wall, all she'd wanted was for him to be inside her, to mark her as his. To consummate those papers he'd given her and put truth behind those little numbers on the printout.
She felt a blissful raw ache between her legs as if he were still inside her. It had been so long. She'd held back the cry of pain when he'd pushed his way inside her. She'd been wet enough, but it still hurt. She hadn't cared. But now, in the light of day she felt awkward, and all at once she was overcome with old familiar insecurity. Insecurity from before the house. The insecurity of the morning after you'd been with a man you really really liked, when you were afraid that maybe you'd fucked it up somehow, maybe he felt nothing. Maybe he was done now.
She didn't want Lindsay to be a man who fell into the man she really really liked category. She hated him. She did. And yet, those nervous fears fluttered through her. Even with the grand gesture... maybe she was out of his system now. Maybe the hunger was gone. Maybe his curiosity was sated and he was done. Maybe...
“Kitten...” he growled from the bathroom. “Get your ass in here.”
Okay, maybe not done.
Shannon got up and joined him in the shower. She didn't have to be told he wanted her in there with him. It might have been a long time since she'd done this, but she wasn't stupid.
He ran soapy hands over her body, lingering for long moments over her breasts and ass. Between her legs. She whimpered and rocked against his hand. She wasn't sure she could take him fucking her again so soon, but she wanted him to. It had been so incredibly long since anyone had taken her with such raw desire. She'd been sure she'd never feel that with anyone again.
But he didn't fuck her. Instead he put the soap in her hands. “My turn,” he said.
She bathed him, her hands also lingering... over his chest, his abs. That ass. That perfect tight ass she wanted to leave nail marks in. When she reached his cock, he'd had enough games.
“Stroke me. Don't fuck around. I don't have time for you to tease me.”
The coldly delivered order should have offended her, should have hurt her. But it only awakened long buried urges—the needs it seemed someone was finally agreeing to fill. She wrapped her hand around him, gripping and stroking him hard and fast, as his eyes held her gaze locked on his.
He came with a guttural sound, his hand catching some of his spendings. He raised the hand to her mouth, and she languidly licked it clean.
He smiled. “Good girl.”
She felt on fire from that look. She so desperately needed to come, but she knew he didn't have time right now.
When they got out of the shower, Lindsay wrapped a towel around his waist and then took a second one and carefully dried her. He led her back into the bedroom where for the first time she noticed he'd put something on the dresser while she'd been fake sleeping earlier.
A chastity belt. The kind they used for training at the house with a thick metal phallus attached to the inside of it.
“I told you, you would not be handling your own orgasms from here on out. Gabe already has the key. You will let him know when you need to use the facilities, but if you try to touch yourself while taking care of that business, there will be a punishment waiting for you.”
She eyed the contraption warily. “Master, I-I can't. You can't put that inside me. I'm too sore from last night.”
A raised eyebrow.
“Master, please. It will hurt.”
He bent to whisper in her ear. “Good. You ran from me. You made me chase you.”
“You liked it.”
He chuckled. “I like you.”
She flushed with pleasure at that. “Please...” she tried again.
“I'll make it easy on you. Sit on the dresser and spread your legs.”
She did so, afraid she knew where this was going. And she was right. A few moments later he was rubbing the arousal cream between her legs to make her wet so she could take what he planned to keep shoved inside her all day.
He lubed the metal phallus while he waited for the cream to take effect.
Minutes later, she whimpered.
“Oh good. You're ready.” He helped her into the chastity belt, firmly seating the phallus inside her. Pain was soon dwarfed by arousal.
She gripped his arms and gasped at the feeling of fullness and absolute need that swamped her. She straddled his thigh and tried to rub herself to no avail. He locked the belt in place.
Then he got dressed as if he hadn't just locked her into a chastity belt. Or as if she hadn't just bucked against his leg like some wild animal in heat.
“Be glad I'm not using the one with the vibrator,” he said, slipping his tie around his neck with practiced ease. He opened a drawer in the dresser and pulled out a black binder and tossed it on the bed.
“I expect you to have read that cover to cover when I get home tonight. I want everything from you. The full protocol. I'll be home by nine. I want you waiting for me this time. Exactly like you know I'll want you.”
Shit. She'd read bits of the training manual before. The standards that they trained all the girls with. Somehow when he'd bought her, it hadn't occurred to her that she was getting the full and complete treatment... that he would demand the protocol. She wasn't even sure that Annette and Mina did all that. And she was certain Julie didn't.
Something clenched low inside her gut.
“Oh come on, kitten. We've both waited far too long for this to phone it in. You want the full protocol. I know you. Tell me I'm wrong.”
But she couldn't. Because he wasn't wrong. She wanted everything in the same deeply twisted way that he did. She just couldn't believe she was getting it.
She'd never seen this side of Lindsay. She was pretty sure no one in the house had seen this side of Lindsay.
“How have you not taken someone for yourself before now?” she asked. If his needs went this deep how could he just casually play with people?
“You were too broken, and you were the one I wanted.”
What did one even say to that? Some part of her still wanted to hate him. It was far too soon to start falling, or forgiving him, but she didn't have it in her just now. And what she did have in her was far too distracting for deep angst-filled though
ts.
“Come here, kitten.”
When she went to him, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed the side of her throat. “Be good. I'll see you tonight.”
And then he was gone.
Shannon gripped the edge of the dresser and leaned against it. The cream was driving her crazy, and there was nothing that would ease it.
Bastard.
She got dressed in some of the casual workout clothes the girls all wore around the house and tried to get herself together enough to go down for breakfast. She felt disheveled but there was no amount of primping that was going to fix it.
She raised her shirt and looked again in the mirror at the scars she'd spent so much time trying not to look at. How could she want Lindsay with... this? He was right, though. He hadn't created the marks, and as impossible as it was for her to believe, he wanted her. He'd made that pretty explicit when he'd ravaged her like a rutting beast the previous night against the wall.
She pulled the shirt back in place and went downstairs, suppressing a smile.
The cafeteria was already full when she got there. She carefully avoided looking at the space under the giant wall clock where she'd been fucked raw only a few hours ago.
Shannon got a tray and her normal sausage and eggs and coffee and went to join Mina, Annette, and Julie at their table.
They called it the Lifer Table—the table for the ones who belonged to one of the men of the house. The permanent residents.
“So,” Mina said conversationally when she sat down, “I'm told he bought you. I would say I told you so, but...”
Shannon could barely focus on her food and she surely couldn't be bothered with Mina's gentle teasing because the combined effects of the cream and the thick metal shaft inside her was about to drive her over the edge. She tried to subtly rock forward in her chair. If she could just...
“Yeah, that won't work,” Annette said.
“What won't work?” Shannon asked, pretending innocence.
“The chastity belt, you can't get yourself off that way. You're just going to have to wait until he gets home and then hope he has mercy on you.”
“I'm not wearing a...” she protested.
