Wishing Well

by Lily White

  I was turning to leave by the time the door opened again, Vincent stopping to lean a shoulder against the frame and watch me. “Are you reconsidering your decision now that you see the truth of what this can become?”

  My voice shook as I stood naked, exposed. “Will you hurt me?”

  His eyes caught mine, the low lighting of the room casting a shadow over the jewel green, cutting sharp, ominous edges over his cheekbones and jaw. “I will.”

  The depth of his honesty startled me. “Will I die?”

  “No,” he promised, “Not by my hand. This is about pleasure, not death. Control, not destruction. Fear, but not terror.”

  Scrabbling for a way to understand it, I asked, “So more like a horror movie than a slasher film?”

  His eyebrows tugged together. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I breathed out, every muscle in my body tense with anxiety. “Never mind.”

  Silence had a beat, a chorus, the white noise of the air conditioning punctuated by the soft fall of his steps over the carpet. “Will it be easier for you to be blindfolded...like last time?”

  Strangely , I thought, it would .

  I was learning rather quickly that I wasn’t the type of woman who would face down monsters, I was the type who would hide in the closet, peeking through clothes, hoping like hell they’d pass by. “Maybe.”

  Vincent nodded and changed direction to pull open the doors of the large dresser that stood near the bench. I only caught site of a few odd, (what-the-fuck-are-those?) objects before he slipped a red stretch of silk from a hook, closed the doors and faced me again. “Turn around, Penelope.”

  Memories of last night were a wash of flutters in my stomach, a tightening in my core, a force so utterly inescapable that I found myself obeying him without thought or question. The silk was soft over my eyes, the knot he tied at the back of my head pulling at the individual strands of my hair that it caught. His fingertips were a whisper down my spine, slowly grazing the skin and stopping just above my behind.

  His breath collided with my cheek, his mouth close to my ear when he whispered, “I’m going to direct you in place. I’m going to restrain you. And then I’m going to leave you to think about the loss of control, the loss of opinion, the loss of the ability to fight.”

  My teeth chattered, my fear a noxious thing.

  “And then I’m going to show you how pleasure comes with pain.”

  The warmth of his hand caressed my shoulder, and I was led to stand with the cross at my back, my arms lifted in locked in place, my legs parted as cuffs were locked over my ankles as well.

  His mouth covered mine, his tongue sweeping in, his taste filling me as my body relaxed despite being restrained. Vincent must have felt it the second I’d given in. Trailing light kisses up my cheek until his mouth pressed against my ear, he said, “C’est à regret que je te le donne... ”

  I was beginning to despise French. But I didn’t have the strength to ask what he’d said, didn’t have the ability to conjure thought when my words were lost to fear, to want, to oblivion.

  The room went silent around me, the constant hush of cool air rushing through the air conditioning vents growing louder with nothing to compete against it. I would have settled for anything to pull me from the trance brought on by my inability to see, my inability to move, the fear that I’d made a huge mistake by trusting a man who’d already hurt me.

  It was the door opening that drew my attention, my head turning toward the sound, my lips parting to say something - anything - but in the silence, I’d lost my voice.

  Footsteps softly fell over soft carpets I knew were dark, the cuffs that bound my wrists and ankles gently rattling as I braced for what would come. I stood trembling, locked in helplessness, locked in a state of deprivation, locked in place without knowing if it was pain I’d suffer, or pleasure.

  A masculine growl of satisfaction filtered through the air. Feral, primal, intimately possessive, as a hand closed over my breast. A gasp burst from my lips, every muscle locking as the hand released me to be replaced by his mouth. I cried out when the soft, wet heat of a tongue transitioned to the sting of teeth.

  Tear slipping from my eye, pain spreading like a spider’s web, I cried, “Stop, it hurts.”

  “Shhhhhhhh ...” was all he said before biting down again, a finger slipping between my legs. Every sensation was heightened, my body a taut string to be played as pleasure collided with pain.

  I couldn’t be sure, but as my body trembled against the rush of opposite sensation, I intuited the careful struggle, the barely discernible battle, of a man trying not to lose control. It was a vibration that surrounded me, an energy that reminded me to be afraid.

  The finger slipped inside me, his teeth biting down harder on the center of my breast before his tongue licked the pain away.

  More tears spilled over my cheeks as his finger moved inside me.

  My fear...

  His fear...

  Our fear...

  It was hypnotic and intoxicating.

  Mouth pulling away, the crushing grip of his hand took possession of my other breast, his finger still moving inside me - faster, harder, deeper - until this powerful man lost control.

  Don’t be afraid...

  A voice slipping through the silence. Vincent’s voice.

  Obey...

  I was being studied. I could feel his eyes watching me with greedy hunger. I knew that with one wrong move, the gentleness he was fighting to give me would be lost with his restraint.

  Why did the thought of him losing control make my body beg for more?

  His touch was gone so suddenly...until both hands locked down on my wrists over the cross, locking me in place. Unable to keep from crying out, I swallowed the fear, shaking as those punishing hands trailed along my arms, over my breasts, down my waist to grasp my hips, and then his mouth was between my legs.

  Tongue, teeth, virile hunger, he owned me while he was on his knees. My head fell back, his hands releasing my hips to palm my ass, his fingers gripping down until I flinched from the pain. Like a starving man, he tasted me, gorged himself on me, driving his tongue inside to swallow my release. And when he softly, slowly, regretfully pulled away from me, I felt a distinct change in the air.

  Where there had been restraint, none now existed. Where there had been care, cruelty now reigned. I wasn’t given the slightest hint of warning before he thrust himself inside me, the cuffs over my ankles cutting into my skin. His fingernails dragged down the backs of my thighs with each driving beat of body, gripping me behind the knees to spread my legs apart despite the shackles that bound me.

  Lost to the predatory rhythm, the viciousness of his thrusts, I moaned out the wicked pleasure, relieving the pressure building inside. My back slammed against the padded cross, my heart hammering, my muscles gripping as he drove himself impossibly deeper, as his feral nature devoured me.

  I’d been a stupid girl to give myself away so easily, but if this was the punishment I would receive, I would do it again and again.

  A switch was thrown, the pleasure relentless, an orgasm surging through me so violently that I screamed out in release.

  It only drove him harder. Only forced him to pull away, to rip at the shackles of my wrists and ankles, to break the hold they’d held. I fell forward, unable to keep myself standing, but I was caught over a strong shoulder, I was lifted and carried before being lowered down and positioned with my stomach over a padded bench.

  With one strong hand, he pinned my wrists to the wall in front of me and he thrust inside me again. He owned me as he forced himself deeper, he tormented me as his teeth dragged down my back, and as his palm closed over the weight of my ass, he slipped his thumb between the cheeks and pushed the width within the tight opening and claimed possession of me entirely.

  Another orgasm as his chest vibrated against my back, another scream as his teeth locked down at the junction of my shoulder and neck, a rush of his power crashing through me when I
clenched my eyes shut and passed out.

  Perhaps the alcohol had been too much, or perhaps it was simply him. But when my eyes fluttered open to find the blindfold gone, I was resting atop a soft, silky bed, the room empty, the walls silent, my exhaustion so cumbersome that I smiled and fell asleep again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  You don’t know fear until you’ve traipsed through darkness. You don’t know desolation until you’ve been tossed to the wolves.

  You don’t know pain until you’re shown just how disposable you are...

  I never knew where those words had come from, those warnings, those whispers, during the three weeks that Vincent claimed me as his. I was learning that I should have listened to them. I was learning that I should have run.

  “I’m going to need makeup for the bruises. Theresa keeps asking questions.”

  Sitting in one of the leather seats that faced Vincent’s desk, I stared at the profile of his face as he read over paperwork. He didn’t bother to look up at me, instead holding up a finger to ask for another few moments of silence as he read over whatever document he was studying.

  Weeks had passed, each night bringing more pain, each day bringing heartache and humiliation as he exposed me more to his tastes. I was beginning to believe he was attempting to discover just how far he could push me before I gave in and fled. Silly man, he never considered I would become addicted to his peculiar flavor.

  Being owned had become a drug.

  What would my mother think? My sister? In the two months I’d spent at Wishing Well, I still hadn’t contacted them. I was ashamed, but they kept writing me, kept begging for some information through an email address I’d always kept since before my mother remarried and moved away. I would have to answer eventually. I just didn’t know what I would say.

  Help?

  Everything’s great?

  I’m enduring whips and floggers and naked tours of a garden at night while my boss and lover follows me, his body fully dressed?

  Only the blindfold he loved to use with me kept me from knowing if guests had passed while the grass tickled my bare feet and I was led to benches and swings.

  Somehow I didn’t think they’d approve, so I hadn’t brought myself to respond despite my sister contacting Blake to learn I was no longer with him.

  Yet, here I was, knowing how they would react to this lifestyle I’d chosen, staring at a man who didn’t bother to lift his eyes to me after I’d spoken. As usual, I waited until he was ready to acknowledge my presence in the room. I waited until he deemed me important enough to greet. I wondered when the day would come where he didn’t wait for the dead of night to parade me through the garden, to display for all the guests’ approving eyes how well I’d learned to obey.

  Was it wrong the thought caused my thighs to clench tighter? In the months I’d been here, being exposed had taken on an entirely new meaning.

  Dragging pen across paper in a flourish of dramatic and masculine script, he signed whatever it was he’d been studying and sat back in his seat, steepling his fingers at his chin as he studied me.

  “What have you told Theresa about the bruises?”

  Fidgeting in my seat to be pinned by his stare of fathomless, unrelenting green, I answered, “I can cover most of them, it’s just the ones on my wrists that are a problem.”

  Some unspoken decision was obvious in his gaze. “Then I’ll find you a new position in the hotel. A new job with better pay. I’ll explain to Theresa that you’ve adequately proven your worth and as a reward I’ve switched you to a new department.”

  “Really?” Surprise tugged my eyebrows up my head. “More money?”

  “Yes,” he said, opening a drawer at his side and extracting a small ring, attached to which was a single key. “I recently had an abrupt departure and need to fill the position. There’s no reason I shouldn’t give it to you.” Tossing the key in my direction, he grinned when I caught it.

  “What’s the new job?”

  “We’ll discuss that in a minute.” Pushing his seat away from his desk, he ordered, “Come here.”

  Standing from my seat, I rounded his large desk knowing he wanted me to take seat on the surface in front of him. Dutifully, I did so, knowing that one complaint would lead to his palm slapping my ass. It wasn’t that I minded the pain, he had ways of soothing it away.

  Voice dark, deep, rough, he commanded. “Take off your shirt, Penelope.”

  Although the windows behind him had no covers, and although in the gardens beyond I could see guests walking about, I did exactly as he’d said. My breasts tightened as soon as they were exposed to his eyes, needy, throbbing, desperate for his touch. He stared at me instead. “On your knees.”

  Slipping off the desk, I lowered myself to the floor.

  “Take me into your mouth.”

  The corner of my mouth quirked up, a wicked grin meant just for him. Unbuckling his belt and the button that fastened his pants, I freed his erection, locked my lips and took him in. The fingers of both his hands fisted in my hair as he directed me down and set the rhythm he wanted.

  Only a few seconds had passed as I suckled and licked and tasted the salt of his skin before he started talking.

  “I wanted your mouth occupied while I tell you this. You’re not going to like it, and I don’t want you talking back, not until you’ve had time to consider your decision.”

  As fear traced up my spine, pricking tears in my eyes, I had to fight not to clench my teeth. Any scrape would anger him, and he had ways of returning that displeasure, ways of showing me that for as graciously as he can bestow his attention, he can just as easily strip it away.

  “When you’re finished sucking my cock, and when you’ve swallowed down the release you give me, I want you to put your shirt back on, take the key I’ve given you, and go to the kitchens to retrieve a meal that will be waiting.”

  My teeth brushed his skin, tears falling faster when his hand fisted my hair harder. “I wouldn’t do that again, Penelope. I’m trying to save your job.”

  What?! Anger filtered in to mix with the pain, terror that I would be homeless again, and for what reason? Because he’d bruised me and someone noticed?

  Heart hammering beneath my ribs, I pulled my lips down to guard my teeth.

  Dark laughter floated above my head, his hands driving my mouth faster. “That’s better. For a second there I thought I’ regret having to fire you.”

  I’d never cried before while sucking his cock, never hated him while I obeyed him. But now, I wanted to do was reach up and gouge his eyes out. He didn’t need to say another word to prove how easily he’d cornered me. I needed this job. I had nowhere else to go, and now he would give and take whatever he felt like.

  His grip loosened on my hair just a touch, the blister of fire across my skull easing. “Once you’ve picked up the covered dish that will be set aside for you, you’ll need to take the elevator down to the basement using the key I’ve given you and the numerical code that’s taped to its side.”

  Without warning his hips bucked and he shot his release down my throat. “Swallow, Penelope. You won’t like the results of angering me.”

  Doing as he said, I could still taste him on my tongue when I asked, “What’s in the basement?”

  He didn’t need to answer for me to know. Thoughts of Émilie at the well flashed through my head, the vacant eyes of a man I’d met before staring at me in my thoughts. Is this what Vincent had done to Émilie back then? What he was doing to me now?

  My chest shuddered with a wrenching sob. What a stupid girl I’d been.

  “My brother, Maurice. It seems his last caretaker has quit suddenly, and I need a new person to bring his meals to him.”

  Terror tightened my muscles over every bone. Still kneeling on the ground, I couldn’t look up at Vincent while he fastened his pants. “Why are you doing this to me? I thought he was dangerous.”

  “He is,” he answered softly, “which is why you need to follow my
directions exactly.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  Pressing a finger beneath my chin, he tilted my head to force me to look at him. There wasn’t a hint of regret or concern on his beautiful face. “Then I regret to inform you your time at the Wishing Well is over.”

  Tears slid down my cheeks, pain so pervasive in my heart that I thought it would split apart in my chest. Vincent tsked his tongue and shook his head. With a silky voice, he said, “You couldn’t have honestly believed I’d keep you forever, or that I would love you? How silly is that, Penelope? You were a dirty girl I pulled from the streets and gave a job. You have no say in what that job will continue being and if you refuse what I offer, I’ll replace you. It’s that simple.”

  Why hadn’t I saved money? Why had I believed the fairy tale he’d given me? Why had I crawled into the spider’s web when he’d done nothing but crook his cruel finger to invite me?

  It was as if the last several weeks had killed the girl I used to be. I become weak in the lap of luxury. And now, too afraid to return to what I’d been before he found me, I nodded my head. “What are the directions?”

  Smiling, he answered, “Don’t make any sudden moves around him. Don’t scream or say anything. Don’t resist if he scares you. And if you want to walk out of the basement unscathed, just do whatever he wants.”

  “Anything?” I breathed out.

  He nodded his head. “I’ll triple your salary. And instead of scrubbing and polishing and running yourself ragged, you can spend your days relaxing when you’re not in my suite. You’ll be pampered for delivering three meals a day.”

  The money was difficult to turn down. And in a month’s time I could save enough to get away, now that I knew my job here and my affair with Vincent weren’t reliable.