by Jane Henry
I looked at Ryder’s honest, handsome face, and I knew exactly what the worst was that he could do. I steeled myself for whatever was going to happen.
“Get in here,” Ryder growled, pulling Francesca by the hand and gesturing for his friend to follow suit. “Anne,” he said, running a hand through his hair and scowling. “You remember Seth from yesterday?”
Yes, of course, the tall, dark badass who’d helped rescue me.
“Hey,” I said with a little wave. He smiled briefly, then resumed his somber expression as Ryder slammed and locked the door, sliding the deadbolt in place. He gave Francesca a pointed look. “Tell me now, what’s going on.”
She sat gingerly on the couch next to me. “Right after I saw you, I went to donate—Anne’s hair.”
“You did what?” he said. He looked over at me and fixed me with a pointed glare. “You know anything about this?”
Uh oh. I shrank back on the chair and swallowed hard, suddenly remembering just how hard that palm of steel of his was. “Well… I didn’t know much about it, except that she said my hair could be used for people who had cancer and lost their hair, and I thought it would be a noble cause.”
“Oh, great,” he bit out. “So we’re here pulling out all the fucking stops to save your life, and you two think it’s the time to start getting all altruistic? Doesn’t matter that donating hair that long would draw suspicion from just about anyone?”
Francesca’s face flushed pink and she wiped tears away, but I didn’t want to hear his anger now.
“For God’s sake, Ryder, you’re overreacting. No one’s going to trace me because of my hair donation, and anyway, there’s no way she’s donated it yet. Right, Francesca?” I swung my gaze to hers. “And would you please get a grip? No one’s going to accomplish anything blubbering like a fool.”
Francesca’s jaw dropped and Seth started coughing, but Ryder’s tone got my attention.
“I’m overreacting?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “I’m overreacting.”
“Ryder, listen,” Seth interrupted. “She’s out of line and I’m sure you’ll show her that, but for now we have to focus on some very important facts. Just listen, okay?”
Ryder’s jaw clenched, and he nodded. “Go on.”
“It’s Dean,” Francesca said. The room grew still. I vaguely remembered Dean as the man that had come to my rescue the night before. I’d assumed—perhaps wrongly so—that anyone who’d actually come to the house to drive me home had been someone in Ryder’s most trusted inner circle.
“Dean?” Ryder asked, his head tipped curiously to the side.
“Yeah,” she said with another sniff. “He saw me in the mailing room downstairs. He saw the bag that I carried and asked me what was in it, and I told him.” Her voice dropped. “I know you told me not to say anything to anyone, but I thought that Dean was in the know, so I didn’t consider him someone to avoid. But his reaction… it was so strange, sir. As soon as he saw it and I told him what happened, his eyes got all angry, and he took off. I tried to stop him, but he left. And I’m afraid he knows something he isn’t sharing with us. Both Seth and I have tried to call him, but he won’t answer.”
Ryder gave one quick nod, then turned to Seth. “Call the mail room now. I’m calling Dean.”
Seth slid a sleek phone out of his pocket as Ryder did the same. Ryder dialed, held the phone up to his ear, and pointed a finger first at me, then Francesca. “You two stay there,” he hissed.
I wasn’t going anywhere. Francesca looked like she wanted to die. I wanted to shake her, and tell her to get herself together, but Ryder didn’t seem all that enamored by that approach. Instead, I settled on just glaring at her, and she glared right back at me, her arms crossed on her chest.
Ryder hung up his phone after a minute, frowning, and slipped it back in his pocket as he waited for Seth to finish his call. A moment later, we all sat in silence as Seth hung up the phone, shaking his head.
“Sorry, Ryder. Mail pick-up’s already come. It’s gone into the town delivery system already, which means that it’ll be filtered through all of Boston’s mail. Can’t stop it now. Best we can do is get in touch with the donation center and get someone who works there on our side, looking out for the mail, and covering for us.”
Francesca’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I know someone. A good friend of mine works there, and I have no doubt that she’d be able to help.”
Ryder nodded, still looking pissed off. “Can you call her?”
Francesca nodded. “Of course.”
Ryder turned to Seth. “And you need to track down Dean. Find out what he knows, who his connections are, and if there’s been any suspicious behavior the recently.”
“Listen, Ryder. I don’t believe he knows anything. Swear to God, I’d trust the guy with my life. There’s no way he’s involved in any way. I mean, he drove the getaway car, man.”
“I know he did,” Ryder said with a sigh. “That’s what concerns me the most. He knows exactly where she came from.…” his voice trailed off. “Francesca, make the call and report back here,” he ordered. “Anne? You tell us everything you know about the man who kidnapped you.”
“He goes by Martel,” I said. “He’s short, with white hair and is clean-shaven. He’s in some kind of monetary business dealings… or something. I was kept in the dark about it all, but I know he loaned people money. That much I could surmise, and I assumed he was a banker or something, before I heard what happens in his office… how he hurts people. He’s got scary people who work for him, and they do what he tells them.”
Ryder nodded and took a step toward me, his voice lowering. “Has he ever said anything about what he’d do if you left?”
A prickle of fear clawed at my chest. “Yes,” I whispered. “He said I would die. And that he’d kill anyone who got in the way of my safety. He’s a little… dramatic.” My voice dropped off, remembering how he’d shattered the glasses when he caught me in a lie.
“Define dramatic,” Ryder said, his gaze fixed on me. “You said he never hurt you.” His eyes sobered. “Is that the truth? Remember what I said about the truth.”
I nodded. “He never raised a hand to me. I mean, he never even touched me. At all. No hugs or anything. But he would have other means of making sure I did what he said.”
“Is that right?” Ryder asked. “Like what?”
“Do I have to talk about this right now?” I felt sick to my stomach, and I didn’t want to discuss this in front of anyone but Ryder, especially as Francesca’s eyes were fixed on me in a way that made me squirm.
“I need details later,” Ryder said. “For now, you two have your jobs to do. Seth, make sure the security team is on high alert and don’t stop trying to reach Dean. Francesca, you let me know as soon as you hear from your friend at the donation center. Understood?”
They nodded. He got up and opened the door, thereby dismissing them. He shut the door behind them, then turned and faced me.
“You and I are going downstairs,” he said. “The more secretive we are about your presence, the more suspicions will arise. But before we do that, we need to talk.”
As he prowled closer to me, my heart tapped a crazy beat. At first, I wondered if I was in trouble for something, but he didn’t look angry anymore. Just tired.
He sat beside me and took my hand. “Tell me what he did, Rae. I need to know.” His voice gentled. “It’s just us now. You need to talk about this, babygirl.” I liked that.
Babygirl.
I didn’t say anything at first, trying to frame how I would tell him, but something about his soothing touch encouraged me.
I took a deep breath. “He wanted me to do what he said, but it was always controlling. Manipulative. No contact with anyone except for the people he employed to come in and teach me, to clean our house, and to cook for us. He wanted me kept pure, he said. And if I did anything he deemed unsafe or disobedient, he punished me.”
Ryder continued to trace circles on my h
and. I took a deep breath and continued. “He’d... take things away. My favorite toys when I was younger. Privileges, like the TV I was allowed to watch once a week. Desserts. Things like that. But it wasn’t like… normal discipline, you know? It was always punitive, but he lectured me, too. He would tell me things about the world outside that would scare me, even give me nightmares. He’d tell me about how poverty-stricken I’d be if it weren’t for him. He’d… show me pictures of starving children and drug addicts, and tell me that I’d end up like them if I didn’t obey him.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “He’s… a scary person.”
“Sounds it.” He didn’t say anything for a time, then when he spoke it was soft. “You know, I’m into this lifestyle so I’m biased, but I can see that this might help heal you.”
“I’ve… read about this as much as I could. I’ve always been very attracted to someone who wasn’t controlling me but rather in control.”
He nodded. “I get that, baby. I do. It’s different when it’s consensual and with someone you’re attracted to. Someone who has your best interests at heart.”
“That’s it,” I said. “I know you’re right. Ryder, my entire life I’ve been treated like a child. I don’t want that anymore. Please. I want to be treated like a woman but free to be who I want to be with you.”
He smiled. “Yeah, honey. I’m happy to treat you like a woman.” His voice had grown husky.
I scooted over closer to him, needing to feel him, needing for him to touch me again. “Oh yeah? So how exactly might that go?”
His gaze fixed on mine, his eyes heated as he took in every detail, from the top of my head, down over my breasts, to the fullness of my hips and lower still. He reached a hand out and brushed the hair off my face. “You want someone to take care of you, but you need to know you’re in charge the entire time, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I croaked, as he lowered his hand, brushing the pad of his thumb over my breast, my nipple hardening beneath the fabric. “That’s it. Please.”
“You want to be able to trust someone who isn’t going to hurt you,” he whispered. I whimpered a little as he took his hand off me and grasped the edge of my shirt, lifting it. “Arms up, baby,” he instructed. I obeyed, needing his healing touch. He divested me of my top and tossed it on the arm of the couch.
“You’ve got a little birthmark,” he said, leaning over and kissing the little mark on my shoulder. “You know, legend has it that birthmarks indicate a past life lived.”
I snorted. “I certainly feel as if I’ve lived several.”
He unsnapped my bra, allowing my breasts to swing free. With a sharp intake of breath, his eyes roamed over me. He guided me onto his lap, his erection under my backside as he lowered his head and drew my breast to his mouth, grazing the hardened nipple with his teeth. The quick stab of pain gave way to a sharp wave of arousal at the sensual feel of his warm tongue on my skin. I closed my eyes, my head falling back, and he guided me down to the couch so that I lay flat on my back, a throw pillow under my head. He worked one nipple with his mouth while he flicked the other, then he weighed my breast in his hand, cupping the fullness with his palm as he continued to lick and tease my nipple. He released me briefly, enough to bring his mouth to my ear. “Do you feel like a woman now, Rae?”
I grinned and shrugged. “Not yet.”
With a chuckle, he tipped me over on my side and whacked my ass.
His voice dropped to a growl. “Lose the pants.”
My heartbeat sped up, my palms sweaty, as I tugged my pants off. He gathered up the clothing and tossed it to the floor, eyes on me as he tugged the edge of his t-shirt up. I did what I wanted to do the night before, gently running a finger down the coarse, dark hair thatfeathered down to the edge of his boxers. He let out a sharp hiss, but didn’t stop me. After his t-shirt joined my clothes on the floor, he captured my wrists and pinned them by my sides, a spike of fear and arousal followed the loss of control. His mouth came to my ear and he grasped the lobe between his teeth, then ground against me. “How about now? You feel like a woman now?”
“Yesss, Daddy,” I whispered, shivering with delight at how good it felt to call him that.
Against my ear, he whispered again. “I know this is new to you.”
It was. I was a little embarrassed at how little I knew. For someone who wanted to be treated like a woman, I had a long way to go.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll follow my lead. I’ll teach you.” He grinned, dropped his mouth to my neck, and kissed me there. A tingle spread along my collarbone and down my body to land between my legs. “What do you say, Rae?”
I didn’t say anything, just moaned as he sank his teeth into the tender skin, but a second later he moved his mouth away from me and slapped my thigh. The sharp sting took me by surprise. “What do you say?” he repeated in a husky whisper.
“Yes, Daddy.” After the smack, my pussy throbbed and I pushed against him, needing friction.
“Good girl.” His mouth came to my neck again, a gentle nip he soothed with a sensual sweep of his tongue, then he moved his mouth past my neck, over my breast, a quick swipe around my nipple causing my pelvis to buck. He kissed the lower swell of my breast, then lower still. He came to the soft skin right above my pussy, and he licked me there. The warmth of his breath tickled me, but also drove me mad, as he left my panties on and kissed my mound. My pelvis rose of its own accord. I needed more. He pressed his tongue onto the fabric of my panties, heat and pressure building. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Alone, in my tower of a room, with nothing but my books and loneliness, I’d explored myself before. But it was nothing like what I felt now. If my self-explorations were a flicker of fire, Ryder’s touch was a roaring flame. I would be consumed by the fire and die happy.
“Daddy, please Daddy,” I begged as he continued to tease me through the fabric, pressing his tongue on my mound, the heat from his mouth warming me through. He lifted my ass, both hands pushing me upward to his mouth.
“You want Daddy’s tongue?”
I could only nod with a whimper. He drew the edge of my panties down only the slightest bit, a centimeter or so, taking the time to worship the small strip of skin he’d bared with kisses and nips. I trembled as he lowered my panties further, an inch at a time, until the tiniest curl showed at the top of my panties.
“This what you want, woman?” he rumbled, his warm breath and deep voice making me tingle. He was so close, and I needed to feel more.
Woman. Yes.
Yes. Hell yes, I was a woman, his woman, and he was going to show me what being a woman could be.
“Yes, Daddy. That’s it. Please, Daddy. Make me your woman.”
He sobered then, lowering my panties until I was bared to him, lifting first one leg then the other as he divested me of the tiny bit of fabric that kept us apart. Bared like this, I wanted to hide, but my need for him made me feel desperate.
He took my legs and draped them over his shoulders. I knew what he was going to do. I’d read about this, but the sum total of my knowledge of sex having been from the pages of a book, there were gaps. Say, for example, not knowing what this would feel like in real life. How I was to respond. The heroines in my novels seemed to like it. I was game.
I grasped his hair, my fingers weaving through the dark, soft locks as he moved his mouth between my legs and parted my folds.
“Daddy’s gonna eat this pussy,” he whispered, his breath tickling my sensitive parts. “And you’re gonna come on Daddy’s tongue, but you’re gonna ask for permission before you do. When you’re at the cusp, you say Daddy, please? Understood?”
I wasn’t sure I really knew when I’d be “on the cusp” but I’d give it a shot.
“Let’s practice,” he growled, his warm breath caressing my skin before he swiped his tongue on my clit. Oh, yes, I wanted this.
“Please, Daddy?”
He grinned, nodded, then lowered his m
outh, his hot breath on my folds, but he didn’t touch me, not yet. My pelvis rose, as I silently begged for him to touch me. His beautiful blue eyes on mine, his strong, muscled shoulders holding my legs, he drew his tongue through my folds, slowly, like he was lapping the top of an ice cream cone. “Taste so fucking good,” he growled, before another long, slow, exquisite swipe of his tongue. He moaned, sucking in my sensitive nub, then releasing me and flicking the tip of his tongue on my pussy once more, each time bringing me closer and closer, a rhythm of soft and sensual and decadent pressure with his tongue, until I didn’t think I could take it anymore.
“Please, Daddy?” I whispered. “I’m close.” Still meeting my eyes, he pushed his fingers into my core, pumping me while working me up. I lost control.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice a deep rumble. “Come for Daddy. Come, baby.” My body teemed with pleasure, writhing as his continued to lap at my folds, and when I reached the pinnacle, that sweet moment I’d been chasing, I screamed his name out loud as he held me, drawing every last drop of pleasure from me. I fell back, my legs and back relaxing after the intensity of the orgasm. Slowly, gently, he took my legs off his shoulders and laid them down on the couch. He slid off the couch and came to me.
“Dear God, that was amazing,” I said, as he sat on the couch and pulled me into his lap.
“I’m glad. You deserve it. And tonight, I’m gonna make you come again, and again, until you forget everything that troubles you.”
I smiled against his chest. “Why? Why me? I don’t know much about…things. And I don’t know what I have to offer you.” My heart still pounded from the climax, but I had questions. “Is this just temporary, me and you?”
A little fear of mine was that he wouldn’t find what he was looking for in me. I had no way to reciprocate what he brought into my life.
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “See, right there, you’re showing me what’s special about you. You just tell me how you feel, and don’t hold back your fears. I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time, Rae. And you’re special. There’s something about you…”
