by Zoe Blake
I was being kidnapped to Neverland.
The grand entrance hall gleamed a harsh bright white with large white marble columns and a matching diamond pattern floor, a stark contrast to the misty grey atmosphere outside. After I was hauled up a sweeping staircase, the men stopped before a pair of massive double doors. Before they could even knock, both doors dramatically swung open.
And there stood Richard.
My shock at seeing him was nothing compared to the rage that pulsed from his body. The cords on his neck stuck out as he moved deliberately toward the men holding me. Their only warning was a tic in the corner of Richard’s right eye and a tightening of his jaw, before he hauled off and punched the man in a suit. He fell with a sickening thud.
The other man immediately loosened his grip on me. “It wasn’t our fault. She started to fight.”
Grabbing the man by his sweater, Richard easily raised his bulky weight high off the floor as he snarled, “You were supposed to guard her. I never gave permission for you to ever lay hands on her.”
He tossed the man away like garbage. The man scrambled to his knees.
“Take him with you. You’re both finished in this city.”
Stunned, I watched as the guy grabbed his friend under the shoulders and dragged his dead weight down the hallway we had just come.
The touch of Richard’s warm hand on my cheek brought me back to the present.
Looking over my shoulder at the retreating men, his words were soft and low, but no less deadly. “If they did this as well, I’ll kill them both.”
My hand flew to my cheek, the tips brushing his knuckles. “No. It was the crazy woman,” I answered almost absently. My mind still trying to catch up to the swiftly changing events.
“Come inside.”
With a guiding hand on my lower back, he walked me through the double doors and shut them with a decisive bang. I then heard the unmistakable click of a lock.
Clasping my hands in front of me, I tried to subdue the tremors that had started to course through my body.
Richard reached out and enfolded me within the warm safety of his arms. Burying my head against his chest, I inhaled his familiar masculine scent and strained to hear the reassuring beat of his heart, as his hand stroked my back in large soothing circles. I could have stayed secure within his arms for an eternity if the shock hadn’t started to wear off and with it my mind began to fit the pieces into place.
As I tried to pull away, his arms tightened to keep me close but then relented.
“So those men were with you?”
Walking away, Richard shrugged out of his coat and slung it over one of the largest desks I had ever seen before, sitting on the edge and crossing his arms.
Unlike the last time I saw him, he was back to his usual bespoke suits, his cloak of respectability. The silk royal blue tie really brought out the blue in his eyes but didn’t make them less dark or intense as they zeroed in on me.
It was clear by his crossed arms and lowered brow, he didn’t want to answer any of my questions but that was just too damn bad.
“I want an answer, Richard. What the hell were those men doing following me? And who was that woman?” In my agitation, I had begun to pace the vast expanse of the room. It was the largest office I had ever seen. It actually had a chandelier, which made it look like a converted ballroom. If circumstances had been different, I would have loved it. It had such a throwback feel.
He sighed. “I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe, Elizabeth.”
“You call me being assaulted by some crazy woman and then being kidnapped right in front of my school safe?” I asked incredulously.
One eyebrow rose as he slowly stood.
Uh oh.
“Do you want to tell me what you were doing right in front of your school?”
No.
“Don’t change the subject. This is about those hooligans you hired to babysit me. And who the hell was that woman?”
His hands closed into fists, then flexed. “I want you to listen very carefully to me, Elizabeth. I don’t need to explain myself to you and I’m sure as fuck not going to apologize for wanting to keep you safe. You’re mine and what’s mine, I protect.”
“I’m not yours anymore!” I sniped back.
I didn’t really mean it. I knew I didn’t mean it. Even the craziness of the last hour hadn’t shaken my conviction that I had fallen in love with this dark, enigmatic man, but I was angry. Angry at what had happened. Angry about that woman and her shouts of ‘you don’t deserve him’ that continued to echo in my head. And angry that he felt he didn’t owe me an explanation for any of it.
With a guttural roar, his hand swiped the contents of his desk onto the floor.
Startled, I scrambled backwards to a small lounge area at the other end of his office, with several wooden Chippendale chairs and a round coffee table in the center. They would offer pitiful protection against Richard if he chose to charge after me.
Placing my shaking hands on the back of one of the spindle chairs, I watched as he inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to calm himself down after his sudden explosion of temper.
His gaze was trained on the floor, as if he were afraid what would happen if he looked at me. “This is the absolute last time I am going to say this. You are mine. You always have been mine and you always will be and what’s mine… I keep.”
“Always have been? We just met, Richard. Don’t you think this is all too much for two people who met barely a week ago?” I cried out anxiously.
“What makes you think we only just met?”
“What?”
What the hell could he mean by that? Of course we only just met.
Richard took several steps toward me. As he prowled closer, I kept the chair between us, circling around to the front when he circled around the back. “Why are you saying we’ve only just met?”
My brow furrowed. He wasn’t making any sense. “Of course we only just met… the… the cab… a week ago. It almost ran me over and you saved me.”
He continued to circle me. A lion trapping its prey. I was getting dizzy trying to watch him and make sense of what he was saying.
“And what about the week before?”
“The week before?”
“When you were reading passages from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to me.”
What?
“You had your beautiful chestnut hair in a messy bun on top of your head. We relaxed in St. James’s park after feeding the swans. Remember?”
I rubbed my forehead. This didn’t make sense. I remember buying a copy of Frankenstein at Hatchard’s and heading to the park to read. I even remember feeding the swans, but Richard wasn’t there. I hadn’t met him yet.
Shaking my head, I still argued with him. “I remember all that but you weren’t there. We hadn’t met yet. I had only just moved to London.”
In my confusion, I had forgotten to keep moving, Richard grasped the back of the chair and pulled it out from between us. Stepping up, his face was only inches from mine.
“I know, baby. Despite my offer to move in with me, you insisted on renting a flat with someone.” He smiled as he playfully tugged on a large curl. “You liked Jane’s flat because of the gothic church across the street. The only reason I would agree is if you got the bedroom. There was no way my girl was sleeping on a pull-out couch. Independence or no.”
No. No. None of this made sense. All of that was true, even about the church, but I was in the bedroom because I paid more in rent.
Dipping his head down, he captured my gaze. “Don’t you think it’s odd that you attend an expensive university and have a flat in downtown London and yet you don’t have a job or parents to help with tuition?”
I turned my head, unable to think straight when he looked at me like that.
“Jane has a job at a local pub, doesn’t she? How do you make rent, Elizabeth?”
I clapped my hands over my ears. “Stop! Stop! None of this is true
. You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie?”
Biting my lip, I turned looking helplessly around the office as if I would find quarter in some empty corner. “I don’t know. I don’t know. All I know is what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense.”
“You and I like to play… games.”
Spinning on my heel, I stared at him. “Games?”
Chapter 19
Richard
Truth is the key to a believable lie.
Her beautiful, expressive face had run through the gamut of emotion since entering my office; from fear, to confusion, to anger, now back to confusion. Being able to tell precisely what she was feeling just by looking into those stunning emerald eyes of hers was one of the things I adored about her… that and her intelligence.
It was a false assumption that only those of low intelligence could be manipulated. Everyone assumed that a person of intelligence would think through the issue and see right through the lie, but that wasn’t the case. An intelligent person was far more likely to overthink, turning it over and over in their head, and second guess the issue, thereby falling into the hands of the manipulator.
A person of lower intelligence would have gone with their gut and just called me a bastard liar.
Not my Elizabeth.
There was just enough truth to my lies to have her second guessing her own recollection.
It really was a fascinating thing to behold.
The very moment you’ve convinced a person to doubt their own mind.
The power of it was exhilarating, not unlike sex.
Once your truth became theirs, you had them in your power.
I continued to circle around her still form. Marking my territory as I played inside her mind. Leaning in close, I whispered into her ear, “Yes, games, my love, like that time in the garden. Wasn’t it more exciting, more thrilling, to think you were baring your ass and being forced to come by a stranger as opposed to a man you knew and loved?”
Her eyes widened, showing me I had hit my mark. Her gamine face was like a book. It was no secret the next day she had probably chastised herself over her wanton behavior with a man she barely knew, even as she reluctantly admitted it was one of the best orgasms of her life.
Illicit, forbidden acts with a touch of pain always led to more explosive orgasms.
Her fingers speared through her locks, tousling them. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
I reached for her.
Jerking her shoulders away from me, she backed up, eyes wild. “Don’t touch me.”
“Elizabeth.”
Staggering to the doors, she rattled the knobs. Then searched for the key. “Unlock the door.”
“No.” Reaching up, I loosened the Windsor knot on my tie and pulled it through the collar before releasing the top two buttons.
“I want to get out of here! I can’t breathe in here.”
“No.” Lifting my arm, I removed one cufflink, then the other.
Elizabeth pounded on the doors with both fists. “Someone open this door!”
“There’s no one to hear you.” Flipping the cuffs up, I rolled the sleeves high on my forearms.
Elizabeth rattled the knob again. “Give me the key.”
“No.” I said, staying deceptively calm.
“Stop saying no! I have to get out of here.” Her gaze frantically darted about the room.
“You’re not going anywhere. Your place is with me.”
Curling her arms over her head, she leaned against the door and sank down to the floor. “I’m so confused.”
Planting my feet on either side of her, I ordered, “Get up.”
Scrambling away on her hands and knees, she pulled herself up a few feet away from me.
Sighing, I said, “This display is starting to make me angry, Elizabeth. Bad things happen when I’m angry. I’m sure you at least remember that.”
Her head shook from side to side as she started to cry. “No! I don’t remember any of this. You’re lying. You have to be lying. We only just met.”
Storming the last few steps, I grabbed her by the shoulders. “It’s a game. A fucking game. One you love playing with me.”
“No! No!” she screeched as she lashed out. Thrashing my chest and arms with her tiny fists.
Fisting her hair, I wrenched her head back. She finally stilled. Staring back at me with wide, wild eyes.
Fuck, I loved this part.
The drama and terror mirrored in her eyes.
My mouth crashed down on hers. Forcing my tongue between her lips, I needed to taste her, to taste her fear. It was intoxicating.
Dammit! My head jerked back. Swiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I saw a crimson streak. She had bitten me on the lip. Hard.
Sucking the blood through my teeth, I smiled.
Game on.
I pushed her away, only to grab her back by the front of the pink cardigan she was wearing. Before tearing it off her body, I noticed the glint of the first bird pin I had bought her. The small shell buttons pinged as they scattered around our feet on the hardwood floor.
Screaming, Elizabeth twisted out of the sweater and tried to back away.
“Take off your jeans.” I ordered as I tossed her ruined sweater on the floor.
“Richard, please don’t,” she pleaded.
“You want this, Elizabeth. You want the beast. The pain I bring. Stop denying it.”
I could see the truth deep in the tear-filled pools of her evergreen eyes as she watched me unbuckle my belt. Nothing escaped my notice. The widening of her pupils as they opened to take in more. The quickening of her breath. The tip of her pink tongue flicking out to moisten her dry lips.
She wanted this just as badly as I did.
Pulling my belt through the loops of my pants, I snapped it. The cracking sound from the leather reverberated around the large room.
“Oh, god,” she moaned.
I knew in that moment I had already won. “Take off your jeans. Now,” I growled.
Opening a few more buttons, I pulled my shirt over my head, needing to shed the false trappings of civility.
Elizabeth visibly trembled as she kicked off her boots and reached for the buttons of her jeans. As she leaned over, her lush breasts overfilled the cups of her blue lace bra. Eagerly, I waited to see if her panties would match, already knowing they would.
When you had enough money, you could pay to learn just about anything about someone; everything they bought, who they talked to, where they went. Everything right down to the color panties they wore.
Hints of blue peeked above the zipper of her jeans as the button released. Pressing her hands on her hips, she slid the jeans over her sleek thighs and down to the floor.
Deliberately keeping my voice harsh and combative, I commanded, “Now the panties.”
Hooking her thumbs in the waistline, she pulled the sparse thong down and stepped out of it. Without being told, she reached for her bra and unlatched it.
God, she was beautiful. Creamy, pale skin. The soft down of her pussy. Her gorgeous hair tumbling in a mass of curls over her shoulders. But mostly it was the twisted mix of vulnerable innocence with dark desire that emanated from her gaze.
Pointing to my desk, I ordered, “Bend over.”
Carefully stepping over the scattered remains of my computer files and pens on the floor, she crept up to the desk. Biting her lip, she barely stifled a sob before she bent in half over its hard surface. In the bright light streaming from the massive windows, I could see the goosebumps raised on her chilled flesh.
Placing a hand on the desk, I leaned over her prone form and whispered, “Do you remember this, my love? The edge of my desk digging into your middle. The smell of the leather top. The majestic view of the Thames as I fuck you from behind.”
Elizabeth groaned.
“Tell me you remember how it feels knowing I’m about to whip your ass with my belt. The sick anticipation of the pain,” I murmured, my breath shifting t
he curls over her ears.
“Yes! Yes, I remember it all now,” she sobbed.
So beautiful.
So willing to please me.
My poor little confused bird.
There was of course nothing to remember; this was the first time I would have the pleasure of claiming her on my desk.
But I would make sure it was a fucking she would never forget.
Without warning, I lifted my arm and brought my belt down across her perfect ass, instantly leaving my mark.
Elizabeth screamed as she flung her arms out to grasp the edge of the desk.
I whipped her again and again. Watching as one-inch-wide strips of red blossomed on her ass and upper thighs.
Elizabeth went up on her cute toes with each strike as she cried.
“Spread your legs.”
Her shaking legs opened wider. I could see the glisten from her arousal smeared across her upper thighs.
She really was the perfect woman for me. Perfect in every way, but I especially loved when she cried. The way her tears sparkled her eyes and brightened her cheeks.
“It hurts! Please, no more.”
My answer was another volley of swipes from my belt. Her poor bottom was now a mottled red. It was fascinating to watch it bounce and twitch between each strike.
“Beg me to fuck you.”
“Fuck me! Please fuck me! Just make it stop,” she pleaded.
Stepping up behind her, I looped my belt around her throat as I unzipped my pants.
Freeing my already hard cock, I groaned as I pressed it against her punished, warmed ass. Rubbing the underside of my shaft up between her cheeks, I took a moment to appreciate the look and feel of her small body beneath mine. Twisting the belt in my hand, not enough to choke her, just enough for her to feel the leather press against her throat.
With my free hand, I placed my cock at her entrance. Soon I would stretch that tight ass of hers, but that was for later, when I had her strapped, spread-eagled on my bed with hours to devote to assaulting that small, dark hole. I couldn’t wait to see it stretched and gaping from my thick cock.
With that thought spurring me on, I thrust my shaft in deep.
