Black Vows_A dark romantic thriller

by Dori Lavelle

  I don’t fight him as he dresses me in one of the skimpy outfits from my collection. I don’t bother to look out at the guards, to see if they’re watching. I don’t care. At this point I don’t give a damn about anything, not even my life. I would’ve sacrificed my life if it meant Christa would be alive. She was a much better person than I ever could be.

  The moment we step out on deck, with Dax’s hand firm around my bicep, the sun hits my skin. I recoil from the extreme heat.

  Dax takes his time walking me around deck, occasionally offering me food from the buffet that had been set up by Karl. I refuse every offer.

  In addition to four deck hands I have not seen before, both guards are nearby, keeping a safe distance to give us the privacy Dax wants, but still close enough to attack me should I disobey their master.

  I try to meet Otto’s eyes several times, but he averts his gaze. Not one secret wink.

  As Dax moves me forward, I swallow the disappointment in my throat caused by the fear of my freedom drifting further away from me.

  Perhaps Otto has come to his senses and realized that Dax is not the kind of person he wants to double-cross. I don’t blame him. Who would want to be a murderer’s enemy?

  As the ocean breeze hits my face, I raise my eyes to look over the railing of the yacht. As a child, the sea had always given me a sense of peace and calm. Watching the waves rolling, I wish they could save me, that I could ride on their white peaks and allow them to take me back to shore. I wish I at least knew where in the world I am.

  After a few more steps, I turn to Dax. “I want to go back . . . to my cabin.” Since I’m drained of all energy, walking is more torture than lying on my bed.

  “Of course, my love. Whatever you want.” He steers me back to the stairs.

  As we descend, I pray he’ll leave me alone tonight, so I can grieve my sister and think about what my next steps will be without him breathing down my neck.

  It does surprise me that he hasn’t fucked me in three days. He tried, but when I used my sore wounds as an excuse, he backed off.

  It won’t be like this for long. Sooner or later, he will demand what he believes is his right.

  When dinner is served in my cabin, this time I eat the food. Not eating punishes me more than it punishes him. I need to build up my strength so I can be able to run in case the opportunity to escape presents itself.

  As soon as we’re done eating, and Karl and Faith have cleared away the dishes, Dax comes to my side of the table. He pulls out my chair with me still sitting in it and lifts me into his arms. He lays me down gently on the bed and covers my body. The only advantage to him sleeping in my cabin is that he brings bed sheets with him and gives me permission to use them.

  He stands there, watching me. I pray he will say goodnight and get out of my face.

  My body stiffens when he slides into the bed beside me and his hand start to remove my lingerie.

  “Dax.” I place a firm hand over his, trying to stop him. “I can’t.”

  “Shhh, let me make love to you. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “It still hurts,” I whisper. “My body hurts.” It would be a miracle if he falls for this same excuse again.

  “I promise to be gentle.” He kisses my neck, his lips warm against my skin. “Stop resisting and it will hurt less.”

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I squeeze my eyes tight. My mind reminds me of the flogging I got in the dungeon. As he pushes his hand into my panties and I force myself not to pull it out. I remember the harsh touch of the whip against my skin. Suddenly, I feel my wounds awaken, made worse by him rubbing his body against mine. I have to get through this and then, maybe, he will leave me alone for the night. Maybe the reason he stayed three nights was because he didn’t get what he wanted.

  He whispers words of love to me as he peels the barely-there pieces of clothing from my body. He’s gentle, as he promised, but the mere touch of his hands is scorching. He can be as gentle as a feather, but I can never forget the torturous things he had done to me.

  I hold tight to my hate for him, but when he slides down my body to bury his tongue between my legs, my body obeys him . . . again. Even though I hate him like I’ve never hated anyone before, my vagina reacts to each thrust of his tongue into my pussy. My mind and body are at war, a war my body wins as it moves against him, my fingers burying themselves into his hair, keeping him between my legs. How could I be so freaking weak?

  I know the answer to that question. After all the pain I have experienced, I’m desperate to feel good. Even though I hate what he’s doing to me right now, I moan when he digs deeper and swirls his tongue around the entrance of my vagina, and sucks hard on my clit.

  When he’s done turning me on, he pushes down his pants, releasing his dick, and rolls a condom onto it.

  I don’t fight when he eases himself into me, filling some of the empty space. I cannot stop myself from welcoming him deep inside of me. I cannot stop myself from wrapping my arms around his body and pulling him closer. I cannot stop myself from screaming out when an orgasm arrests my body. Just as I’m unable to stop myself from feeling sick to my stomach when it’s all over.

  Moments after he orgasms, he withdraws and gets out of bed. “I’m sorry, babe, but I’ll sleep in my cabin tonight. I hope you don’t mind. I have some work to catch up on.” He strides to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Tears of relief come to my eyes the moment the door closes behind him and clicks shut. Thank God I get to be alone again for a couple of hours.

  I pull the bed sheets up to my chin but as I’m about to close my eyes, I notice Otto on the other side of the glass. He gives me a wink and a smile. What’s he trying to tell me? Could it be that there’s still hope, and he might be able to help me? I have to talk to him again when I get a chance.

  Even though I’m humiliated at the fact that he witnessed me and Dax having sex, I give him a small smile to keep him warm. Then I reach for the urn, hold it to my body, and close my eyes, thinking of Christa.

  I hold on to the urn until my eyes grow heavy. Afraid I might knock it over in my sleep, I put it back on the bedside table and pull the bed sheet over my head, grateful that Dax had not taken it with him. I close my eyes, enjoying my privacy.

  When I open them again, the sun is up. Even though I have clearly slept the entire night, my body doesn’t feel like it has gotten much rest, as if it would fall apart any minute.

  I lay in bed for a long time, gazing up at the ceiling until Karl brings me my breakfast. A smile on his face, he places the tray next to me on the bed. I give him a small nod to thank him.

  He leaves the cabin and returns when I’m done eating. Instead of taking the tray with him, he only picks up the plate and cup and leaves the cabin.

  Perplexed, I pick up the tray to put it down on the floor, so I can grab more sleep before Dax shows up. A frown forms between my eyebrows when something underneath comes into contact with my fingers. I turn the tray over.

  A folded newspaper article is stuck to the bottom. My first reaction is to look through the glass at Otto. He’s there, but his back is turned to me. He’s smoking a cigarette while gazing out at the sea.

  I don’t waste time thinking. My fingers are shaking as I rip the paper from the tray and push it under my mattress. I don’t know how to explain it, but my intuition tells me it’s something I need to hide.

  I don’t get a chance to look at the article for the rest of the day because Dax doesn’t leave my side.

  The next morning, my heart flips over with joy when Dax tells me he’s going to the mainland again.

  I spend a couple of hours waiting for the guards to look away or get distracted with something, and when they do, I snatch the opportunity and read the article that changes everything.

  My face is in the center of the article, the word kidnapped bold in the headline above it. My breath is coming in gasps as I read on.

  Christa Stanton, the sister of award
winning actress, Emma Stanton, has reported her sister missing. She fears that she has been kidnapped by her fiancé and fellow actor, Dax Pierce. She’s urging anyone with any information to contact the police immediately. Emma’s agent, Curtis Richerson, has offered a reward to anyone who helps the police find her.

  I push the paper back under my mattress, a flush of adrenaline making my body tingle. How can it be? Why does the article have yesterday’s date? According to Dax, she died over a week ago. I know the date because I took a glance at Dax’s watch yesterday, when he was distracted.

  If the article is accurate, it means Dax lied to me. It also means that someone on this yacht speaks more English than he makes everyone believe.

  Someone is on my side.

  Chapter Eleven

  A buzzing noise wakes me in the middle of the night, dragging me from a troubled sleep. I lift my lids to find Dax standing over me, a vibrator in his hand.

  His eyes are dark, the way they get when he wants to have sex. To hell with his sick desires. If he thinks I’ll let him stick his dick or that thing in me, he’s kidding himself.

  When I saw him yesterday, after he got back from the mainland, it was a struggle not to tell him that I know he’s a liar. But he can’t find out the truth. Someone sent me the article. That person is trying to help me. I can’t get them into trouble.

  I still don’t know who it was. I tried getting answers from Karl every time he came to my cabin, but the language barrier prevented me from getting the information I needed. But he has to know who it was. He was probably sworn to silence, and I chose to respect that.

  My stomach twists as I move my gaze from Dax’s face to the dildo. “What—what are you doing?”

  He lowers himself to the edge of the bed, the offending object vibrating in his hand. A smile curls his lips. “I’m here to make you feel good.”

  “No need. I’m fine,” I lie. “I just want to sleep.”

  “You’ll sleep better after I make love to you.” I flinch when his free hand lifts the bed sheets from my body and slides it downward until the lower part of me is exposed. “Your sister’s death made you so sad. I want to make your pain go away.”

  You are my pain, I want to say to him, but instead I grit my teeth hard. “I don’t want to have sex, Dax.”

  He lifts the elastic of my panties and slides his hand inside as I clench my jaw. “Make love, you mean?”

  What can I say to a man whose head is so screwed up he doesn’t realize he’s a monster? Even though I don’t respond, I press my legs together.

  The vein throbbing on the side of his jaw warns me that he doesn’t like it one bit. He has been patient with me the past few days. Will he finally snap tonight?

  “Emma,” he says, his dusty voice a rumble inside his throat. “Making love is not supposed to hurt, unless you want it to.” He puts the dildo on the nightstand and pries my legs apart by force.

  When I attempt to close them again, a frustrated groan rumbles from his throat at the same time his hand meets my cheek. “Is this what you want, huh?” he asks, cupping my cheek and squeezing it hard. “Are you so addicted to pain?”

  My eyes are glowing with heat as they meet his. Unflinching, I inject as much hate into my gaze as I can.

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, then he releases me.

  “Fuck you,” I whisper, massaging my chin and jaw.

  He shoots to a standing position and buries his hand into his pocket. It comes out wrapped around handcuffs.

  I fight him off as he tries to handcuff me to the bed. “Leave me the hell alone, you sick bastard.” I know I’ll lose the fight, but I’m not about to make it easy for him to get what he wants.

  When the second handcuff clicks, I collect saliva in my mouth and spit it into his face. His evil eyes are on me as he uses a finger to wipe away the saliva. My stomach rolls when he slides his finger, still coated with my saliva, between his lips and sucks on it.

  “You like it rough, don’t you?” He pulls out the finger and gets on top of me, while a hand reaches for the vibrator. “Well, pussycat, your wish is my command.”

  I’m helpless to stop him as he slides my panties down my body and pushes my legs apart with his knees. My whole body sobs the moment he jams the vibrator between my legs, while his other hand is tight around one of my breasts.

  “Is that how you like it?” He slides his lower lip between his teeth. “Is this how you like to be screwed . . . by force?”

  The handcuffs clink as I roar with anger at my body for responding to the disgusting object. It infuriates me that I’m unable to control myself.

  Tears roll down the sides of my cheeks with each plunge of the vibrator into me. Laughing, he slides it out again only to bury it again inside me. My body, the traitor, is on his side. My hips roll from side to side, and my vagina clamps around the fake penis.

  “You see.” A satanic smile stretches across his lips. “I knew you would like it.”

  The truth is, at this point, I feel better having the vibrator inside of me instead of his cock.

  Still holding the vibrator inside me, he leans down and slips one of my nipples between his lips. His teeth clamp gently around it. My mouth responds with moaning. It terrifies me that I’m slowly becoming a poster girl for Stockholm syndrome.

  He keeps going until I can’t hold it any longer and throw my head back as an orgasm takes over my body moments before it breaks it apart.

  When he pulls out the vibrator, I’m a weeping mess. He lies down next to me, kissing away the tears.

  “It’s okay, my love. It’s my duty to make you feel good. But you have to stop fighting me. We can be so happy together, if you’ll just stop denying our love for each other.”

  I glare at him through the curtain of my tears and the words tumble off my tongue before I can stop them. “I stopped loving you a long time ago. You can keep me here for as long as you like, but it will not make me love you again. Nothing will ever make me love you again.” I gasp for air. “You kept me away from my sister. I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

  I have to keep up the pretense, to make him believe I’m still in the dark.

  “You’re wrong about a lot of things, Emma.” He tightens his arm around me. “If you stop wishing you were away from me, you’ll see how good you have it here, how lucky you are to have me. I have so many wonderful things planned for us.” He moves his hand off my body again and sits up. “Which reminds me, I actually have a gift for you.”

  Before I can say anything, he walks out of the cabin, leaving me feeling numb. When he returns and sits down next to me, my eyes are looking at him, but not seeing.

  “You’ll love this.” He places something next to me. “Come on, I want you to open it.”

  It takes a heartbeat for him to realize that even if I were interested in the gift, I can’t do anything with my hands handcuffed to the bed.

  Chuckling under his breath, he opens the handcuffs and I sit up in bed, rubbing the discomfort from my wrists.

  He picks up the large, white rectangular box and places it on my lap. “Come on, open it. I brought it with me from the mainland.”

  I fold my arms in front of my chest. “I don’t want presents, Dax. I want my freedom. I want to go home … to Mistport.”

  “This is your home now. There’s no one waiting for you in Mistport. Your sister is gone, and the people who are left behind in your small town don’t respect you. They never had. You left that town because you wanted your freedom. That’s what I have been trying to give you this entire time, but you’re too blind to see it.” He puts his hand on mine, stroking my skin in circles. “It’s time to let go, Emma. Let go and let me take care of you. We can have it so good, you and me.”

  “Come on, Dax. You cannot still believe that. Whatever we used to have broke when you showed me who you really are. You broke us.”

  “Then let me repair us. Open the box and you’ll see how I intend to do that. Don’t make me ask you again.”r />
  Still fuming, I lift the cover off his stupid box, to reveal more sex toys and lingerie that’s to his taste, not mine. Everything is surrounded by red rose petals.

  My throat aches as I push away the unwanted items.

  “Won’t you thank me? Tell me you like the things I got for you.”

  “I wish you would buy me proper clothes instead of those things.” I hold my breath and brace myself for an explosion. “I hate walking around half naked.”

  My eyes widen in surprise when he nods, then starts to shake his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did to you. It’s just because I love you so much.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you keep saying,” I release a bitter laugh. “If you really love me, you wouldn’t have stolen me from my life. You wouldn’t have taken my freedom away.”

  “You wanted to leave me. I had to do something. I couldn’t let you throw us away. I would die without you.”

  This emotional blackmail horrifies me. “I’m not the first. You’ve done this to other women. You killed those innocent women.”

  The silence that follows makes me uneasy. Is he thinking of how best to punish me?

  He finally stands and glares at me, hands in his pockets. “I’ve been pretty patient, wouldn’t you say, Emma? I was good to you. I gave you the time you needed to mourn your sister. Now you’re throwing my kindness back in my face. I’m sure you understand that I can no longer stand back and do nothing. Get up.” His hands are tight fists. “You’re going to the dungeon. I have to punish you for this behavior.” He grabs my arm, but I snatch it away again.

  “Don’t you dare touch me again.”

  “Fine, have it the hard way.” He looks through the glass and gestures for his guards to come and get me. I scream and curse Dax all the way to the dungeon.

  Chapter Twelve

  The guards tie me to the chair while Dax picks up a pair of scissors.

  They stand in silence by the door watching him torturing me. I hate them for not doing anything.