My Billionaire Captor

by Shae Black

  Oh those eyes, under the blue sheet his sharp green eyes take on the color of the deepest part of the ocean making me willing to agree to anything. “Ok, like what?” “You trust me, yes?” Oh crap, why does he continue to ask me that? It’s such a loaded question, maybe that’s the reason he keeps asking. “Yeesss.” I say, with the slightest bit of hesitancy.

  “Don’t be all fidgety about it Imani, I’m not going to ask anything of you that I don’t think you can handle.” Now what does he mean by that? Handle? As in tolerate? “Just trust me ok?” “I said I did. Now what are we going to do?” “You don’t have to do anything, except close your eyes and lay down, without the sheet.” I chew on my bottom lip instinctively and hiss when I feel the sharp pain of the bite mark. “Come on.” He bucks his hips up indicating we are doing whatever it is he’s got planned.

  I lift my bent knee and roll over onto my back with the sheet still around me in one big dramatic swoop. “No shit.” Ok, ok, geesh. He better be planning on keeping my mind on something so I can forget the prying eyes of my assigned protectors. I spread my arms wide opening the sheet exposing my body completely. He’s off the bed getting something out of the night-stand drawer, curiosity has me tied in knots, and I’m dying to open my eyes.

  The mattress dips when he returns and he straddles me now, protecting me from his full weight he hovers lightly. “Keep your eyes closed.” “I will.” He bends close to me, I hear a click and feel something tickling my belly, like well I don’t know maybe like he’s writing on me. “Wha…” “Shhhsh, just trust me and be still.” So I do, it’s hard though, to be still.

  Whatever he is writing I begin to realize it’s the same thing over and over just on different parts of my body, everywhere, arms, legs, breasts. He’s writing all over me with a pen. Sometimes the script feels small sometimes larger but always the same swish and scroll. I giggle a time or two and each time he shushes me gently, never ceasing his project. He’s even turned me over and is working on my backside now. I’m starting to wonder how long the pen will hold out, he’s used a lot of ink.

  I’m getting sleepy, if this didn’t tickle so much in certain areas I’d probably be out, he’s seriously worn me out today, but I love it. “Ok.” “Hmm? All done?” “Yes, but I want you to wait to open your eyes for a minute ok?” I groan with impatience. “Come on...” I whine. “Stay. Wait.” He moves off of the bed, I could sneak a peek but somehow he would know…he just would. He's in the closet opening a drawer, what the hell is he getting? Every time he asks me to close my eyes I think he’s going to do something kinky. Which I wouldn’t necessarily object to, I just don’t know how comfortable I’d be with any of that and I know he’s experienced well beyond what he’s shown me.

  I’m not thinking about that, nope, think black wall, empty room, the beach…anything other than Marcus with another women! I hear him padding across the room back to the bed where he steps up and walks across the mattress where he stops and stands over me. I can feel his ankles brushing against my own. And then I hear a click, what the hell? He’s taking pictures of me! I jump and flip to my back opening my eyes to Marcus towering over me with an enormous professional looking camera.

  “What the hell Marcus? I’m naked!” “I’m well aware baby, now close your eyes and relax, I want some of this side.” “Marcus! No!” It’s then that I look at my arms, and then propping up I see my legs, hell every inch of me! I’m covered in his signature! Marcus Castillo is scrawled across my skin in various sizes but the same name over and over, delicate looking font in some places and bold in others.

  He’s claimed me, quite literally. Shocked and confused, mouth agape I look up at him as he stands there awaiting my cooperation. “Close your mouth baby, a bird might…” I cut him off, “Marcus! Why…why is your name…everywhere?” I lift my arms as if to show him what he’s done. “Because you are mine.” “And you couldn’t think of a better way to show that?” “No, I like you covered in my autograph and I’m taking you out tonight to Dominus for dinner and drinks. I know all too well how my customers gawk and I don’t want anyone’s lustful eyes on you.”

  I think my mouth is hanging open even wider, if that’s possible. He wants me to go out like this, covered in his signature, so that no one will look at me. Ok, he’s totally lost it, I’m not going anywhere like this. “Uh uh, no way, I can’t go out all marked up like this!” “Lay down Imani, I want to get a few more shots.” “What? Are you listening to me?” “Yes, you are yelling how could I not be listening to you? Lay back and close your eyes, now.”

  I’m fuming inside but if its pictures he wants then I want some guarantees. “Nobody sees these right? Like nobody.” “Of course! Why would I show anyone nude photographs of you when I’m trying to keep people from looking at you?” Well, he’s got a point. “Why do you want the pictures?” “Because you’re lovely, and mine, and covered in proof.”

  Ok well I guess, as long as they are for his eyes only. I lay down on my back and shut my eyes while he begins clicking away, bending and getting every angle humanly possible before stopping. “Ok, let’s get dressed. I have a car coming in about an hour.” “I’m not going out like this Marcus.” I say flatly. “Yes you are, no one will see it. I’ve got your clothes set out in the closet, all of this will be covered.”

  The audacity of this man, I can’t believe him! He thinks he can just choose my clothes? It occurs to me that we have never been out in public together on an evening date. Is he worried about me showing too much skin? And so what if I do? It’s my body. “So what’s the purpose of covering me in your name?” I ask full well knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it. “You know why. I just told you. The people at my club are…well…they have dark tastes. All eyes will be on us because of who I am, they all know I’ve been away for a while and gossip will be rampant. I don’t want to share an inch of you with them.” “Then why go there?” “It’s my first business, I want to show off, brag if you will. I’d like you to see one of our shows in the club.”

  He sits on his knees with his hands on his thighs at my feet and places the camera carefully beside him. Biting his lip in a rare moment of insecurity I hear him say that magic word all mothers pray their child will use in public. “Please.” Throwing up my arms buckling under the power of all that is Marcus I agree. “Oh all right!” My reward for submitting? The smirk and wink that melts my heart. “You’re incorrigible.” “You wouldn’t want me any other way baby.” And it’s true, I wouldn’t.

  Chapter 24

  I’m glad we bathed because there’s no way he will let me now. I stand in front of the full length mirror in the walk in closet staring at my skin, turning and cranking my neck to see my backside. This is going to smudge if I get hot, and smear if I sit down, I think. Oh my god, I hope he didn’t use permanent ink! I bend over and lick my thumb to rub a small place off of my foot and its gone easily…well at least I can be relieved about that!

  The dress he’s put out for me is really quite stunning I can’t be upset with his choice, he has exquisite taste. On a large free standing hook hangs a floor length black sequined dress that has a high neckline and long full length sleeves. It’s got plenty of coverage that’s for sure but at the same time very sexy. There is a slit cut all the way up the center of the dress and he has black stockings and a garter belt with panties and bra to match all set out on the island. And as if I couldn’t have handled choosing shoes he’s taken care of that too.

  On the floor under the dress are a pair of elegant black stilettos that immediately catch my eye and make my heart beat faster. He knows I love shoes and he has outdone himself. Delicate rhinestone straps start around the toe and wrap around to the back where the shoe is more enclosed and black, a silver heel ties the look together and I’m forgetting the pen marks all over my body in no time. I slip into the undergarments and just as I’m stepping into the dress Marcus enters with only a towel around his waist and damp hair.

  “So you get to shower do
you?” “Just a quick one. Do you like the dress?” I notice his change in subject but I ignore it. “Well, it certainly covers all of me. It’s beautiful though, yes I like it.” I continue to pull the dress up and slide my arms inside, he gracefully steps to zip me and we stand looking in the mirror together. His eyes are bright and full of adoration reflecting back at me.

  “I love you, you know.” he says. “Yes I do.” That’s all that is said. I slip my feet into the glorious shoes and do a couple turns to see how they feel, unbelievably comfortable for stilettos, but I’m used to them. I’ve not been working for so long now that I wear heels more times than not. Now what to do with my hair. “Your hair?” he says buttoning up his crisp white tuxedo shirt. “Yes, it’s kind of a mess.” “Come with me.” He says while he continues to dress tucking in his shirt.

  I follow and can’t help but to watch his perfect form ahead of me, every muscle working together fluidly. It’s so difficult to believe he is having such an enormous health issue right now, he looks like a cover model for GQ. In the bathroom he pulls up a high stool in front of the mirror. “Sit.” he gestures toward the seat and I must make some sort of doubtful facial expression because he rolls his eyes and repeats the gesture. I click across the bathroom floor and perch on the stool. He takes out a brush and removes my rubber band holding the mess atop my head and it falls heavily down my back.

  He works the brush through every strand, occasionally looking up into the mirror at me, smiling a tiny satisfied smile until it’s as smooth as curly hair gets without a straightener. It’s not the first time he’s brushed my hair but he sets down the brush and picks up a curling iron that I didn’t notice had been heating on the counter.

  “Uh…you know how to use that thing? I don’t want chunks of hair being burned off.” He looks at me, disappointed in my lack of faith but doesn’t say a thing, he just continues on with my hair like a professional, separating sections, wrapping them around the iron and slowly moving it down the hair until my head is covered in ringlets. “How do you know how to do that?” I ask looking at the lovely end product. “Practice.” “On whom?”

  He sets aside the iron unplugging it and turning it off as well. Looking at my hands in my lap he admits softly. “Megan. She liked her hair this way.” I’m not really sure how to respond to that, he just gave me his ex-girlfriend/little sister’s hair style. “Oh…does it remind you of her? Do you miss her?”

  Neither question do I want the answer to, I asked because I couldn’t think of anything else to say and he looks so sad. “A little, her hair wasn’t black or as beautiful as yours and yes I miss her.” I appreciate him being honest. “Thank you.” I say and he turns leaving me there to stare at the hairstyle of a dead woman from Marcus’s past.

  Sitting there daydreaming about Megan I suddenly realize I need to pick up the pace. Marcus took quite a while with my hair, I still can’t believe he did that, and so well. I grab my makeup and carefully apply evening smoky eyes and a touch of powder. I’m not big on painting my face but the dress and occasion call for it. I find Marcus in the living room standing in the semi-circle of windows that look out over the water, one hand in the pocket of his beautiful black tuxedo pants.

  We will make a pretty good looking couple tonight, no chance of people ignoring us, he would be recognized even if he dressed like a homeless man so there was never any chance we would remain anonymous. I still feel strange knowing I’m covered in Marcus’s signature under this dress, in fact you can see through the hose a little. It looks like I have tattoos all over my legs but it's only visible when I jut my leg out of the front slit. He’s lost in thought and I wonder if he’s thinking about Megan. That relationship was unhealthy to say the least and I wish I hadn’t asked about the hair but curiosity is my weakness.

  Sensing me there he pulls himself from his reverie and slowly turns to me, dragging his eyes the length of my body saturating me with desire. “You’ve gained weight.” he’s half grinning and I bristle. “What? That’s not a way to compliment a lady.” “It is if she’s been much too thin and is finally filling out in all my favorite places.” Well again, he has a point. I fidget and pass my pocketbook from one hand to the other.

  “Imani…don’t be uncomfortable with me. I love you however you look, but the healthy glow you have and your returning curves…you’re irresistible, delicious, and impossible.” I suddenly have no desire to go anywhere but back to bed, there aren’t enough hours in my life to spend alone with him. He strides across the room quietly on the thick piled carpet and stops in front of me turning me away from him he wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling my neck.

  “I’ll take you to dinner and for a drink or two but I promise to bring you home and wash every one of my autographs off of your sweet skin. I grasp his forearms and squeeze my approval of our itinerary. “I could eat you alive right here right now but I’d muss your hair and I worked hard on that. Let’s go now, before I change my mind.” I murmur “Mmhmm” and he guides me by the small of my back to the door where we are greeted by Elijah and Mr. Black.

  Elijah is holding a full length white fur coat, a fur coat! I’ve never even seen one in person but I instantly worry about the poor animals who gave their lives to warm my skin. “Ahhh stop, it’s the best of the best faux fur, I know you’re an animal lover baby, I wouldn’t dream of offering you the real thing…although they are much softer.”

  I’ll be impressed with his knowledge of me and his mind reading until my last breath. I smile and his face lights up like the ground when the space shuttle launches. It’s so easy to please him, approval, attention, affection…hmmm the three A’s cute. Marcus takes the coat from Elijah and holds it for me while I slip my arms in and wrap the faux fur around my body. It’s amazing this isn’t real, I wonder if he’s lying to pacify me but I know he’ll never tell.

  Outside on the steps a path has been cleared, not shoveled however it looks like the snow just disappeared from the walkway. “Heated patio and driveway.” he says nonchalantly. “Really? It doesn’t snow that much here does it?” Blown away by extravagance is becoming the norm, the more I learn about the rich the more I discover how spoiled they are… and how spoiled I am.

  A black Mercedes sits waiting with the monster SUV parked directly behind and Marcus opens the passenger door for me, I slide in. He rounds the car and enters sitting behind the wheel, uh, no way, he just had a seizure I’m not letting him drive! “Marcus, you can’t drive after a seizure!” I reach for the door handle but he stops me. “I’m fine and I’m driving.” “You would risk my life? You could kill us both, please Marcus listen to reason!”

  He slumps in the seat defeated, he really wanted to drive. “I miss driving.” He says. I sigh and take his hand. “I know you do, and after you’re well you can drive me all over the country, all over the world I don’t care but not now…ok?” I start strong but end with a tiny plea. “Yes. I’ll get Elijah . You’ll sit in the back. I’ll help you.”

  This is his way of taking back some control of a situation and I watch him unfold from the front seat, he returns in mere seconds at my door helping me out and into the back while Elijah takes the wheel. “It’s a bit of a drive are you tired?” He asks and yes I am, very much so. “Yes, I had quite a work out today, my personal trainer is ruthless.” My beloved smirk occupies his face and he takes a handkerchief from his inside pocket, who carries those anymore? Marcus Castillo apparently and it even has his monogram on the corner.

  He lays it on his leg to protect his tux from my makeup and pulls me gently down onto his lap. “Lay your head down.” I do as I’m told gratefully, tucking my free hand between his legs where he’s hard and ready as always. He adjusts my hand away from the swell in his trousers and I can’t help but smile against his strong muscular leg. ”Behave.” A shiver runs up my spine at his words, I snuggle into him and close my eyes with a teeny tiny prayer I can nap with no dreaming.

  “Baby…Imani.” Warm minty breath floats across my face as I
’m nudged awake. We’re here already? No nightmares, yes! Marcus helps me sit up where I stretch out the stiffness of sleeping in the same position for an hour. I glance at Marcus, he's looking out his window at a piece of architecture that I can only describe as art. The front of Dominus is spectacular.

  “Drive around.” he instructs Elijah . “It’s so beautiful.” I breathe ducking my head to get a better look out of his window as we pass. “Why are we turning around?” “I want to get out of the car first from my side.” I sit back and look at him tilting my head with question. “I don’t want you crawling across me and I want to exit first and help you out of the car.”

  I smile, wow he uses manners and etiquette when he wants to, good to know. Elijah swings the Benz around pulling up to the curb where I can look out my own window at Marcus’s life’s work. The building rises high with several floors of balconies that are lit underneath with lacy wrought iron terraces. Three large archways on the street level are where people are entering and I recognize the architecture as ionic from a class I took in college.

  Above each archway are nude, identical half human women statues with elegantly molded decorative bases. I could sit and just admire the outside of the building, no need to even go in. “You like it. Your beautiful brown eyes are sparkling, you should see how alive you look Imani. I think you may be lit up from inside.” he squeezes my hand and tears spring from nowhere. Sometimes his compliments are overwhelming, especially when I’ve never been loved this way before, or any way.

  “Hey...” he releases me and cradles my face in his hands, a thumb under each eye to catch matching tears, just two. “None of that.” he rubs his fingers together to remove the moisture and kisses me softly on my lips, cherry red lips to cover my bruise. Consequently he has a dab of red on his mouth and I rub it out with my thumb. “Let’s go.” Elijah is out and swinging our door open, Marcus glides out as only he can do and reaches for me, I’m aware of the signatures under my stockings and I shuffle to return my dress to a position where it covers me best.