by Rene Webb
“No.” I shake my head in denial and attempt to step back—away from danger. “Never.”
“I can be very persistent.” His soft lips descend on mine, barely touching as he teases me with phantom-like kisses. Uncontrollably I lean forward, wanting to feel the full pressure of his mouth on mine, but he pulls away, his eyes alive with desire. “I can also be very patient.”
I back away, confused and anxious with unwanted desire.
My thoughts and feelings war against each other. I can’t possibly like this man; I should be afraid of him. But his touch sends a calming warmth through me, and all I want to do is get lost in his arms, his touch, scent, and taste. But he is my captor—my enemy.
A small voice in my head argues, But he didn’t kidnap you. He is not the reason you are here. And he cannot be too bad; he hasn’t struck you or forced himself on you. He’s only touched you, which you can’t deny you enjoyed.
“When was the last time you ate?” The man breaks me out of my thoughts, and I look over to see him pulling his shirttails from his pants.
“What?” I ask, stepping further away. My gaze locks on his large fingers—the ones that had just been inside of me—as he begins fumbling with the tiny buttons.
“When did you eat?” He shrugs out of the shirt, leaving him in a tight-fitting white t-shirt. Stepping forward, he cups my cheek gently, sending a spark of warmth through me. His thumb touches my lip which I didn’t realize I’m biting, and he comments casually, “You must be hungry.”
“I stole some crab cakes.”
“Good choice.” He removes his hand from my face and holds out his shirt. “Put this on. You’re a beautiful distraction, Princess.”
“Thank you.” I take the well-starched garment, quickly putting it on and doing up as many buttons as possible. The sleeves dangle past my wrists and luckily the shirt is long enough to cover my ass.
With the shirt covering me, I begin feeling more comfortable. More myself.
Safer.
“What would you like to eat?” he asks, moving over toward the bedside table where a house phone sits. “I’ll call down for something.”
Food. Real American food. Sounds like heaven.
“I’d kill for a burger and fries,” I tell him, moving to sit on one of the chairs at the small round table in the corner. “Or a meat lovers pizza.”
Eyebrows shoot up on the man’s face as a smile appears. “Meat lovers?”
The innuendo isn’t lost on me, and I stammer quickly, “A hamburger.”
Picking up the phone, he speaks perfect Mandarin into it—I don’t understand a word.
Why did I take fucking French?
Chapter Five
~ Finn ~
Fuck!
I thought having Lily cover up her gorgeous, tight little body would make her less distracting—enticing. But seeing her sitting here in nothing by my shirt has me wanting to toss her onto the bed and fuck her right now.
My cock may think that’s a perfect plan, but I’m not that much of an asshole. I probably shouldn’t have made her strip, or fucking touched her to begin with. In my defense, I had to be sure they hadn’t harmed her, had to see with my own eyes there wasn’t any lasting damage to her body.
Once I got my hands on her, caressing her delicate skin and bringing her to climax had been instinctual. Watching her let go, embrace the pleasure I could give her, and forget about the world around her, made my cock ache and my heart light. I had sensed her attraction to me earlier, and I needed to see how she’d respond to my touch. Her wet cunt squeezing my fingers in orgasm told me all I needed to know.
Never in a million years would I have thought Lily was a virgin. A fucking virgin. Even though I’ve had my fingers in her tight pussy and felt her barrier, I still can’t believe no one’s ever fucked her. Miracle.
Lily’s innocence has me wanting to both corrupt and protect her in equal measure. Nothing is stopping me from doing both. She’s the type of woman I’ve been unknowingly searching for. Cultured. Intelligent. Untouched. It’s just my luck that I find her in a fucking Hong Kong brothel.
She’s mine now.
And I protect what’s mine.
Once I discover why Lily was kidnapped, brought here to be used by any man willing to pay for her, and by whom, they are going to pay.
How the hell did I end up in a Hong Kong brothel with Lily MacKay?
The last time I saw her was five years ago. I had thought Lily was beautiful then, although still a teenager and growing into her body. Now, she is a fucking gorgeous woman with all the right curves. Maybe a little too skinny, but that’s nothing a few good meals—which I doubt she’s been getting lately—won’t change.
It is clear that Lily doesn’t remember me. Although, I doubt anyone made an impression on her at her father’s funeral. It was a cold and rainy October day, and I remember having to stand in the back of the overflowing church.
Everyone had loved Arthur MacKay. He was known not only for his shrewdness in business but also for his kindness to all those around him. It didn’t matter if you were the CEO of the company he was trying to overtake or the janitor who cleaned the offices at night; he treated everyone with the same respect and kindness. MacKay was someone you wanted to emulate, someone to look up to. I can already tell his daughter has that same sweetness, buried beneath her fear and anxiety.
For the short time I knew him, MacKay had been a great friend and mentor. I would protect his daughter for his sake if for no other reason.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I need a few moments alone.
“Go into the bathroom and take all that junk off your face,” I tell Lily. Like the other women downstairs, she has enough makeup on for a whole circus of clowns. I find the overly made-up look wholly unattractive, as if they are trying to hide the ugliness within, ugliness I know Lily does not have.
Lily quickly stands and, arms crossed over her chest, scurries into the bathroom. I lose all concentration as I watch her shirt, my shirt, sway against the back of her thighs. Once the door clicks closed and I hear water running, I pick up the phone again.
Cell phones are not allowed on the premises for security purposes, so I had begrudgingly left mine at the hotel with my assistant, Trevor. Now that I need it, not having it makes me feel naked and vulnerable. How fucked up is that?
“Suite 211 please,” I tell the hotel operator and soon hear ringing.
Once Trevor answers, I don’t waste time putting him into action.
“Trevor, we have a situation. Grab my phone; I need you to send a text to Peter.” I can hear the rustling of him moving around the room, searching for the device.
“I’m all ready, sir, tell me what it should say,” he says after a minute.
“It should read, I want some fucking answers.”
The thought that Peter knew Lily was here has my hands itching to wrap them around his throat. Images of dangling him in the air as he gasps for breath dampen the rage inside of me.
“Anything else, sir?” Trevor’s voice brings me back to the present.
“Yes. Send an email to Sansbury and tell him I want a report on the viability of switching all our business to Ban and Sons.”
Peter and I may want Robert’s company for our new enterprise, but that doesn’t mean I can’t also use them at Finch Distributing.
Surprisingly, I enjoyed spending time with Robert this evening. And truth be told, I understand why he comes here for female company. Although he’s genuinely a nice guy, he’s also overweight, sweaty, and has a receding hairline. Not that I’m an expert, but I doubt many women would find him attractive. At home, only mercenary ones would pretend to be attracted to him. Here there is no pretense. These women get paid to enjoy his company and please him—it doesn’t matter if they’re attracted to him or not. I wonder if Robert has a frequent visitor rewards card and gets discounts?
Someday, I bet he picks one of the women he enjoys the most and takes her home. I wouldn’t be surp
rised if it was the woman he was with tonight. He’ll marry her, treat her like a princess, and in exchange, she’ll happily suck his cock, take it up the ass, and let him fuck her whenever he wants.
Robert grew in my estimation when he noticed Lily, and even though he didn’t recognize her, he was concerned as to what a young American woman was doing here.
I can now see why Peter recommended him as a possible business partner; he’s someone I could see doing business with, but only if it benefits my own interests.
“Then email Maul,” I direct Trevor, returning my focus to our conversation. “Tell her I want her to figure out a way to halt all dealings with LDC Limited, as of yesterday.” I want nothing to do with a company who’s CEO attempted to grope Lily.
“Certainly sir, I’ll send Sansbury and Maul emails right away,” he promises. “Will there be anything else?”
“Yes, I’ll be spending the night so ... ”
“Sir, you’ve received a reply from Peter,” Trevor states surprised, interrupting me.
“What does it say?”
“It reads, Is she okay? Would you like me to answer him, sir?”
“Reply, yes, and then turn the fucking phone off,” I tell him, seething with anger. Peter clearly knew she was here, and he should’ve fucking come himself instead of sending a virtual stranger. It’s only by some miracle that Lily hasn’t been harmed or traumatized more than she already is. He should have dropped everything, instead of sending me under false pretenses. And without fucking telling me what I was getting into. Nothing seems to add up, and I fucking hate when things don’t balance out.
“Who does he mean, sir?” Trevor asks guardedly, ever the protective assistant and bodyguard. “What has he gotten you into?”
“Peter’s cousin, Lily MacKay, is here and not of her own choosing,” I growl tersely. “I have no fucking clue what’s going on, but I mean to find out and make them pay.”
“Fuck!” comes Trevor’s clipped reply. “I’ll call Daniels and have him make some discreet inquiries about Miss MacKay, but I don’t think we should let anyone know where she is until we get a clearer picture of the situation.”
“I agree. Peter knew where she was and didn’t come himself, so there must be something we’re clueless about. I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
“I know, sir,” Trevor mutters somewhat distractedly, I know he’s already working on getting me some answers. It is what makes him such a valued employee and why I don’t mind paying him his exorbitant salary. “Will there be anything else?”
“No. Just have everything packed up and be ready to leave when I’m dropped back off at the hotel tomorrow morning.” I’m still uncertain what my game plan is, aside from spending the evening exploring Lily’s gorgeous and responsive body; making her forget everything that’s happened to her. Heaven.
Lily obviously doesn’t have a passport or other clothes. She wouldn’t be allowed through customs without the former. It’s times like these that I kick myself for not splurging and purchasing my own private jet. Then I could’ve easily fabricated the manifest and smuggled her out of the country.
I’ll have to come up with a plan for getting her out of Hong Kong, one that doesn’t involve smuggling ourselves onto one of my container ships. One thing I know for sure is that when I leave tomorrow, I will be taking Lily with me. No matter what I have to do, or how much I have to spend. I’d have Trevor pick us up, but the truth is I don’t know where the fuck we are.
“I think it’s best, safer, to keep your identity a secret until you’re back here,” Trevor tells me, cutting through my busy mind. “Hopefully by then I’ll have some more information about what’s going on.”
I hang up the phone just as Lily slowly makes her way out of the bathroom and resumes her seat at the table. The fact that she came out on her own volition tells me she’s not as afraid or repulsed by me as she’s trying to seem.
I’ll have to see what I can do to get her to relax more.
Another orgasm would probably help.
Chapter Six
~ Lily ~
The floor is freezing on my bare feet as I make my way into the cold ultra-modern tiled bathroom. I am more than happy to wash the gunk off my face as the man ordered. The caked on makeup feels dirty and gross, and I’m always happy when I can finally remove it. The door closes with a soft click and I move to turn the lock on the door handle—but there isn’t one. I only have the illusion of privacy; the man could come in at any time.
Through the door, I can hear him on the phone speaking English—a language I actually understand. I can’t make out the words, only the man’s angry tone.
Stepping onto the plush bathmat in front of the vanity, I don’t recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror. The bright red lipstick, liberal use of mascara, heavy dark eyeliner, and sparkling blush has me looking unrecognizable. Usually, I’m a chapstick and natural-colored eye shadow kind of girl. My perfectly manicured nails are the only things I would’ve chosen to do myself.
I unbutton the shirt, pull it off my neck and chest, and push the sleeves up my arms, not wanting to get them wet. I then turn on the sink, drowning out the little I can hear of the man’s conversation, and splash the warm water on my face. Reaching out, I unwrap a small bar of floral smelling hotel soap that is sitting on the counter. Working the soap into a lather, I begin to scrub my face. As I begin the process of wash, rinse, repeat, my thoughts are on the man in the other room.
None of what this man does or says makes sense. He acts nothing like I expect and I find myself perversely intrigued by him.
There is nothing about this man, who pays for women at a Hong Kong brothel, that I should find attractive. Yet, I find myself craving his touch and wanting to lose myself in him, in the pleasure he’s offering, and in his firm gentleness and strength. I can’t explain why, but with him, for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. And I don’t even know his name.
I had been psyching myself up to be stripped of the little clothing I was wearing, tossed on the bed, and fucked. The last thing I expected was for him not only to offer me food, but ask me what I would like to eat. I may have eaten my fill of crab cakes, but the thought of a real hamburger has my stomach growling.
Then the man did something even more confusing by handing me his dress shirt to put on. Allowing me to cover up.
Rinsing my face for the final time, I look up and finally recognize the person staring back at me. I feel like I have a little portion of myself back as well.
I slowly button the shirt back up. Taking a deep breath, I inhale the spicy scent of his cologne on the collar, very different from the noxious lingering Axe that men I know from school wear. I carefully adjust the sleeves, unrolling and then rolling them up so they are perfectly equal. I know I’m procrastinating, and I can’t stay in the bathroom indefinitely. Making this man angry by hiding from him doesn’t seem smart.
“It’s now or never,” I tell myself as I slowly open the bathroom door and rejoin the mystery man.
Chapter Seven
~ Finn ~
“Our dinner should be here shortly.” Lily gives me a tentative smile from her place at the table; her face glowing, clean, pink, and freshly scrubbed. Beautiful.
I walk over toward her and pull out the chair next to her. Lily stiffens for a moment as I shuffle my chair closer, sitting and facing her side so my knees touch her bare thigh. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans away from me. I can sense that she’s frightened, but not necessarily of me. It’s not surprising. Anyone in her situation would be jumpy and anxious.
Tonight, I’m going to make Lily forget about everything that has happened to her since her kidnapping. Until I am able to get her out of this fucking place, all my princess will be able to concentrate on is me and the pleasure I can and will give her. It may take more patience than I have, but I am determined to make this a night neither of us will ever want to forget.
My first step is to assess exac
tly how much experience or lack thereof Lily actually has. Creating my game plan for the rest of the evening depends on first acquiring the correct data.
“Have you ever sucked a man’s cock?” I ask, mimicking her pose and leaning back in my chair, giving her some semblance of space.
“Once,” she answers quietly, biting her lip and staring down at her lap, playing with the tail of my shirt. Looking up at me she continues, “I gagged so much I vomited all over him.”
Lily gives me a small devilish grin that doesn’t quite meet her muted, moss-colored, green eyes. “He didn’t like that.”
I find myself chuckling at her response. “I bet he didn’t.”
This gets me another weak smile, and I watch as she again bites her lip nervously. Reaching out, I gently thumb her lip out from between her teeth and tell her truthfully, “I want my woman to enjoy sucking my cock.” Leaning forward I whisper, “I want it to make her wet and aching for me to fuck her.”
Lily shivers at my words, and I watch as her nipples harden beneath my shirt. I know it’s not from fear. Pulling away, I lean back and promise, “But you don’t have to learn how to do that, not tonight.”
I’m not going to pretend or lie to her about the fact that I want those perfect lips wrapped around my cock. Tonight there needs to be transparency, honesty between us—as much honesty as I am willing or able to give to her until we leave.
Lily may not realize it, but I plan on us spending a lot more time together than just tonight. There will be plenty of time for my princess to perfect that particular skill—how to please me. Tonight though isn’t about me, but all about her pleasure. About helping her forget. We are both trapped here together and although I’d much rather have her for the first time in my own bed, sometimes you just have to work with what you have.
The next step in making this night memorable and pleasurable is getting Lily used to my touch. Getting her to relax and enjoy the pleasure I can give her is key.
