Tamed: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 2)

by Felicity Brandon

  Movement on all sides broke the spell, but as Molly stumbled back into her seat, she knew it was there. That visceral connection that had haunted her since Connor’s arrest, the one she’d almost persuaded herself was all in her head – just another writer’s tale – was real. It was alive and kicking, cutting through the air between them like a tangible, living thing. By the time she dared to glance back to Connor, he was smiling. That irritating smirk he had used against her whenever he had made her degrade herself for his pleasure. Your mutual pleasure, the little voice in her head reminded her. His eyes darted in her direction, and the intensity in them could convey a thousand words, but only three resonated in her brain.

  You. Are. Mine.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Seeing her there in court, day after day, was like the re-enactment of a teenage wet dream. Connor could see the object of his desire, but it meant nothing. She was so close, but yet so far, and with the cuffs at his wrists, the dozens of police and security, he had zero opportunities to access her. Regardless of his frustrations, she was still there in all her glory, and his kitten had lost none of her animal appeal. Things weren’t right in her camp though. That much was obvious. Molly looked so small, so vulnerable and so alone. Even surrounded by those people who no doubt claimed to be acting in her best interests, she seemed too tiny, and visibly shrank away whenever any of them asked her a question.

  To Connor, she was damn near perfect. Or as close an approximation as was possible in a busy courtroom when his kitten was fully clothed and not at his feet. Nonetheless, he could feel his cock swelling whenever he caught sight of her, and he also noticed how often Molly’s gaze searched for him too. Of course, he could tell she was trying to fight the urge to look at him. Maybe her counsel had told her to stop. It probably wouldn’t help her story if the victim was seen making puppy eyes at the alleged perpetrator, but it seemed she was unable to stop altogether. Every day he wanted to leap from his place in court and run to her side. He wanted to hold her, protect her from the arsehole journalists who were desperate to catch a glimpse of his pet. He wanted to breathe in the smell of her hair again, and devour her. Connor wanted to take what was his, and the fact that he couldn’t was slowly killing him.

  The fact that he also knew any of these days could be his last in court made the craving for her even greater. Connor still had no idea when he’d get the wink and The Syndicate’s plan would roll into operation, but it had been more than three days of surreptitious glances in Molly’s direction so far, and the frenzy of his emotions were not cooling yet. Today was the day Molly was due to take the stand. In reality she’d probably only be questioned by her own lawyer, as there likely wouldn’t be time for a cross-examination, but still. It was something. It meant not only would he get to see her, but for the first time in bloody weeks, he would hear her as well.

  Watching her scurry into position was exquisite. Connor could see the tension etched into her beautiful features, and he had an idea of how much pressure she was under at that moment. He had spent a lot of time examining those same reactions when he’d held her, so he reckoned he knew them well. Better than most. Maybe better than anyone.

  As she swore to tell the truth against a bible Connor wasn’t even sure she believed in, her gaze flitted back to his face. Connor offered her a reassuring smile. He owed her that much at least. He may want to get a good view of his pet again, but it had never been his intention to torture her this way. His capture and trial had never been part of the plan.

  The State’s lawyer rose to take her place in the theater of the courtroom, and the questions began. It was the usual array of monotone inquiries he’d expected, each question as dry as the woman delivering them appeared to be. Connor was barely listening by the fourth question. All of his focus was now on Molly, on the tiny, involuntary gestures she made when she was nervous. Connor noticed how she swallowed before she answered each line of inquiry, and how her face colored wonderfully as all eyes in the room penetrated her pale skin. He noted she looked tired; weary, even, and that disgruntled him, but on the whole, her performance was superb, leaving him nothing short of invigorated.

  “The State is flying through their questions,” murmured Mosley as he leaned in toward Connor’s right shoulder. “That means I might get to cross-examine Miss Clary before the session ends.”

  He paused, eyeing Connor severely as he apparently contemplated what to tell him next. “I thought you’d be interested, since you might not be here to see how her performance concludes.”

  Connor balked at that, his demeanor startling for the first time since he arrived in the court room. “Anything more I should know?” His tone was barely even a whisper.

  Mosley shook his head. “Just keep your wits about you, Connor. Our friends will take care of the rest.”

  Connor nodded as his lawyer settled back into position, and the two resumed as audience to Molly’s answers. She seemed a little more relaxed now, at ease with the array of questions her lawyer had presented, but no doubt she had practiced most of them already. He watched as her small fingers played with the loose strands of her dark hair; a sure sign that despite her calmer appearance, his kitten was still feeling the pressure.

  As Molly spoke, Connor’s attention strayed to her alluring mouth. He recalled with painful ease just how beautiful those pouty lips looked when they parted to pleasure his cock, and how incredible her mouth had been decorated with his gags. The thought that he might never get to play with his pet that way again made his chest tighten. The weight of the sadness which landed over him making him genuinely bereft.

  Connor had known this day was coming. There was always going to be an end to this chapter of their story, there had been no secret about that. Despite all of that though, he was not prepared for the enormity of the emotions he’d feel. Up to this moment, Connor had always known he’d see Molly again. He knew he’d at least see the start of the trial, and that would mean laying eyes on Molly once more. But now the end was in sight, there were no guarantees anymore. He could walk out of this courtroom today, and potentially never see her again. This really could be the end. The end of the trial, the end of his sentence, the end of the dark spiraling passion he’d created with Molly.

  The end.

  But those words were never supposed to be written so early in their tale. Were they?

  The session dragged on. Evidently, the Crown Prosecution Service had more to present from their star witness than Mosley had bargained for. Irritated, Connor’s lawyer shifted in his seat, throwing his client a scornful look of disgust as the line of questioning continued. Judge Raynor broke for lunch, before summoning the court to resume, and on it went, Molly responding to question after question. It was well gone three o’clock by the time the prosecution rested. Not much time for Mosley to begin, but still, Connor could tell the older man was desperate to get to his feet.

  As he rose, Connor saw his kitten’s eyes widen, and he had an idea that she knew what was coming.

  “Miss Clary.” Mosley’s voice was low, but if Connor didn’t know better, he could have sworn the older man was excited. “Can you tell the court what you do for a living?’

  Molly gulped at his words. No doubt she had been prepared for this eventuality, but obviously hearing it out loud was more disconcerting than she’d expected. “I’m an author,” she whispered anxiously. “I write novels.”

  “What kind of novels do you write?” Mosley asked with a sly smirk.

  “Objection, Your Honor,” cried Molly’s lawyer. “The question is irrelevant.”

  Mosley grinned as though he’d been expecting that exact response. “Pertains to motive, Your Honor,” he replied in a heartbeat.

  Judge Raynor eyed the two men for a moment. “Overruled for the time being, but get to your point, Mr. Mosley.”

  Connor’s lawyer nodded. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “You may answer the question, Miss Clary.”

  Molly glanced up at the judge’s order, her fa
ce flustering. “I write erotic romance.”

  Connor could see how excruciating it was for Molly to have to admit that in a packed courtroom full of people. He was torn by his responses. On the one hand, he loved to humiliate her. That was no secret, and his kitten would be well aware of the fact, but all that said, Connor did not like the way Mosley was making her squirm. As far as Connor was concerned, only he had the right to inflict pain and discomfort on Molly. No one else. Not Mosley, not this court. Not even God.

  “You write erotic romance?” Mosley spoke slowly, intentionally torturing her as he laid out the fact again for the court to hear. “And tell us, Miss Clary, do any of the characters in your books experience the same situations you allege Mr. Reilly to have put you through?”

  Molly blinked up at him, her face looking hot with embarrassment. Connor shifted, increasingly annoyed by Mosley’s line of questioning. He understood it, of course, and he knew where the lawyer was going with it. He wanted to explain to the jury that Molly enjoyed the acts Connor had inflicted upon her. That she’d wanted them, and that ultimately, she had consented. It was really Connor’s best defense, and it made sense, but as he watched Mosley setting the context for his assault, all Connor could think was that he wanted to shut the older man up. He wanted to protect his pet. He had to.

  “Let’s not do this.”

  The words flew from Connor’s lips, his voice stern and loud enough for most of the packed room to hear. There were gasps as people registered what he’d said, and what seemed like every pair of eyes flew to look at him. Taking a deep breath, Connor absorbed the attention coolly, ignoring the scathing look of Mosley, and only permitting his gaze to land upon the wide-eyed expression of his kitten.

  “Ask your client to be silent, please, Mr. Mosley,” Judge Raynor spoke to his lawyer directly. “Or else he will be held in contempt, as well as on the other charges he already faces.”

  Mosley nodded at the judge’s direction, spinning on his heel and pacing toward the place where Connor sat waiting. Lowering his body across the bench, his eyes narrowed as he whispered. “What are you doing?” His voice was little more than a hiss.

  Connor’s face remained impassive. “The right thing,” he told him in an equally quiet tone. “If your information is correct, then there’s no need to subject her to this, and I don’t want you to.”

  Mosley balked. “You don’t want me to?” he repeated in a whisper. “I’m afraid, Mr. Reilly, that we’re way beyond what you may or may not want. This is a criminal case, and I’ll ask you to hold your tongue whilst I do my job.”

  Connor didn’t like his tone one bit, but he swallowed back the retort which sprung to mind as he watched the black gowned man turn and stride back to his original place.

  “You may answer, Miss Clary,” Raynor prompted.

  Molly stared at Connor’s lawyer, her expression demonstrating the shock that was obviously resounding around her body. Her eyes darted from Mosley to her former captor, and Connor greeted Molly with a warm smile. It’s okay, he thought as he gazed at her dumbstruck visage. I won’t let him to do this. I won’t let him out you like this.

  “Miss Clary?” It was Mosley speaking now, goading her to answer his original query. The one which he hoped would reveal to the court what a depraved woman she was, and throw doubt on the prosecution’s portrayal of Molly as the victim.

  Molly’s lips parted, as though she had every intention of answering, but there were apparently no words forthcoming.

  “I said no, Mosley,” Connor growled from his place. “Don’t. Do This.”

  For the second time in less than five minutes, the public gallery behind him erupted into a round of gasps and loud whispers, and Mosley turned to throw Connor the most withering of looks.

  “Mr. Reilly.” It was Judge Raynor speaking now. “Let me make this clear to you directly. You will not speak in my courtroom unless you are spoken to. This is your final warning. If I have to address this matter one more time, you will be held in contempt and removed.”

  Connor nodded, ensuring he threw the judge one of his most devastating smiles. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  Judge Raynor exhaled, her attention returning to Mosley, who looked beyond irritated at this point. “Your witness, Mr. Mosley.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Please answer the question now, Miss Clary.”

  “Certainly,” she responded. “Can you repeat the question, please?”

  Connor watched as Mosley pulled in a sharp breath. Apparently, this trial was turning out to be one of the more taxing of his illustrious career. He smirked at the idea that his little kitten had added to Mosley’s pain and raised his gaze to look directly at Molly. For a brief moment she met his amused expression, before her eyes flitted back to Mosley.

  “To clarify,” he continued. “Do the plots and characters in the books you have written share the same experiences Mr. Reilly now stands accused of committing?”

  “Yes,” she replied, and there was a fierceness in her tone which even made Mosley stop and glance back in her direction. “Yes, they do.”

  An odd sense of pride filled Connor’s chest as he looked upon the woman sitting in the witness box. Yes, she looked thoroughly mortified to have had to admit it, but in the end, there had been an air of dignity in her answer. An air of acceptance that stirred Connor’s groin. Connor wasn’t sure if his interruption had bought her enough time to think and compose herself. He didn’t know if she was merely playing the part for him, for her legal team, or maybe only for herself, but he wanted to reward that bravery. He wanted to devour her pouty little mouth and make her come until she begged him to stop.

  “Did you enjoy the acts described in your transcript, Miss Clary?” Mosley’s question caught everyone’s attention, and Molly’s demeanor faltered as she processed it.

  Molly’s lawyer was on his feet. “Objection!” he roared across the court. “Irrelevant, Your Honor, and leans toward hearsay.”

  Raynor eyed the scene thoughtfully. “Sustained, Mr. Mosley,” she announced. “Rephrase your question, or find a new line of inquiry.”

  Mosley’s attention flew from the judge back to Molly. “If you have written about shall we say, similar scenarios, Miss Clary, then would you say, these acts were ones you had considered before?”

  Molly met his gaze. “Yes, I had considered them.”

  “And how did the consideration make you feel?” Mosley continued, pressing his advantage.

  Molly’s face flamed at the query, her involuntary gulp at having to respond to such a question almost audible across the courtroom.

  Connor was on his feet even before his mind had time to process his response. “That is enough,” he sneered in Mosley’s direction, bringing his fist down hard against the back of his seat. “This is over.”

  Judge Raynor lifted the small wooden gavel in her hand and slammed it against the box in front of her. “You are quite right, Mr. Reilly,” she cried in anger. “You are in contempt of court, and this is over!”

  Connor stared at her wildly, but he nodded as he fought to control his natural reactions, the ones which told him to leap over the bench and sweep Molly into his arms. He was aware of the blood pumping through his body as the court officials moved around him. He didn’t resist as the old metal cuffs were forced back onto his sore wrists, or as Mosley threw his papers dramatically against the desk in front of him. Instead, his attention was solely on Molly the whole time, and he hoped desperately that his gaze was relaying the message he wanted to convey. That he loved her. That he loved in a way he had no right to do. Monsters like Connor didn’t love, they didn’t feel, they didn’t empathize. Yet, Molly had made him do all of those things, and he was no less himself; no less a monster because of it.

  As she met his gaze, he noticed there were fresh tears in her eyes, and he wondered if his message had been clear, after all. Perhaps, she really could tell how he felt, what his face was trying to portray.

&n
bsp; Fuck, he hoped so.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  His eyes never left her as he was escorted from the courtroom, and down the old steps back toward the underground cells. He closed his eyes as the uniformed officer dragged him onwards, burning the image of his kitten into his memory. If Mosley had been right, then it would be all he had now. The only thing there was to hold onto during the cold winter nights to come.

  He was hauled into a cell for the longest time, his mind still reeling at the turn of events. They weren’t exactly surprising. Connor may not have been reckless by nature, but it was just like him to respond in such an instinctive way to a perceived threat, and even though Mosely was acting on his behalf, the way the older man had cornered his kitten had been a threat. And Connor couldn’t just sit there and watch it happen. Whatever transpired now. Even if he never saw his little pet again, she’d always be his, and he would never abide anyone else pushing her boundaries.

  When they finally came to move him from the holding cell, his mind had cleared, but had been replaced with a wall of depression. He should be happy, dammit. By all accounts, he was about to be broken free. He would never have to return to the shit-hole prison again. He’d never have to see or share another night with the idiot, Brown, or watch his back in the shower around Durston and his cronies. Those things should make him ecstatic, and on some level, of course, they did. But breaking free today meant he’d also not be back in court tomorrow. He wouldn’t see Molly’s exquisite blush then. Maybe, he’d never witness it again, and the weight of that reality crushed him.

  “Come on, Reilly,” called the guard gruffly. “You’re outta here.”