My Billionaire Captor

by Shae Black

  In this moment I forget about people out to get us, the blackouts, the sex clubs and brain tumors. I need what I need, and right now I need Marcus to take me away to our land of private ecstasy where nothing can touch us and no one else exists. Standing in the foyer he gazes down at me while our shadows file in behind us and close the door against the cold. Keeping his eyes locked with mine Marcus begins to exit the room, still carrying me he orders the men to lock down the estate and under no circumstance should they disturb us. Easily we move through the house but not toward the bedroom, in fact I have no idea where he’s taking me.

  I think of questioning him but remember the lesson Marcus taught me about anticipation and taking our time, it’s important and so much more fulfilling that way. We move down a hall toward the rear of the house and begin to descend a staircase. I smell chlorine about halfway down, the pool. He’s such an athlete but I’ve not gotten to experience this side of him with all we have been dealing with since...well since always. “Swimming, you do swim yes?” he asks. I smile, “Of course I swim, and I’m surprised you don’t know that.” “Why?” “You seem to know everything else about me.” “True, I do. I never came across any history of swimming lessons in my investigating so I wasn’t sure.” “Investigating? You’ve been stalking me Mr. Castillo?” “Well, I’d hardly call it stalking Imani, research is a better word than investigating I suppose.”

  We enter a spacious room with stone walls and beautiful mosaic tile flooring, the chemical smell of chlorine assaults my nose now and the warm heavy moist air is almost difficult to breathe. He hasn’t even broken a sweat, not out of breath in the least, he sits me on the end of a chaise lounge covered in blue striped cushions and squats directly in front of me sliding his hands inside the slit of my gown onto my thighs. I inhale sharply and for some reason a smidge of panic surges through me. “Why no purple here?” I blurt without thinking and look around the room at the mostly blue decor. “I, ah I don’t remember.” He shakes his head and pulls the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth in one of his rare displays of insecurity.

  “I was just getting used to everything being one color scheme and now… all this blue.” I motion around us and recall his bedroom is completely decorated in blues as well. “Like I said, I don’t know.” And he genuinely seems not to have a clue. The water moves in gentle swirls from the pumps circulating it through a filter and the gentle sound is hypnotic. The pool is very long but only three lanes wide, tropical plants surround several clusters of similar chairs and there is a table kiddy corner to us across the room. The lighting is dim, the brightest coming from inside the pool where both ends are lit with a large bulb under the water. A large photograph hangs at the opposite end of the lengthy pool and I squint in an attempt to make out what or who the subject is.

  Marcus has his back to it and takes my chin between his thumb and finger returning my eyes to his. “I want to show you something. Do you promise not to…overreact?” Uh…hell no I don’t, he can’t just say that to me and he knows it. I sit up more erect and move his hand from my face. “Why? And no I won’t promise, you know better than to ask me that.” “You’re right, it’s nothing bad. In fact it’s my favorite possession next to you. Come.” He rises and pulls me to my feet. “Loose the shoes.” I step out of my stilettos and am instantly dwarfed standing next to his six foot four frame. Taking my hand and turning it over he presses a soft kiss to my palm that would have normally melted me on the spot but I’m buzzing with curiosity about whatever it is he thinks I may overreact to.

  We begin a lazy stroll toward the other end of the pool, my dress too long now, swishing against the tile and making it mildly difficult to walk so I step carefully. He’s leading me toward the photo I was trying to decipher and every step closer it becomes clearer. It’s a woman with her head thrown back…a few steps closer I stop abruptly…it’s not just any woman, it’s me!

  Larger than life my hair wild and hanging down behind me with tendrils sticking to my forehead and jaw with sweat from obvious exertion. Large familiar hands cover my shoulders, Marcus’s hands. Three steps closer and I’m standing at the foot of an enormous portrait of me mid orgasm! Oh my god! I whip my eyes to him but he’s not looking at me he’s gazing with utter awe and adoration at the monstrous photograph. I look back, my heart pounding in my chest, breath coming quick I drop my mouth open and try to make sense if it all. “It’s stunning isn’t it?” he says, voice hushed and reverent. I can’t speak, I just stare.

  Narrowing my eyes and leaning forward I examine the fantastic detail of the photo, every thread of the sheets, every pour of our skin and drop of perspiration can be seen. Incredible emotion and desire are captured in a moment of unbridled love between Marcus and me. It is beautiful, but it’s me! I step forward dropping his hand. “How?” I breathe reaching out to touch a portion of my own hair on the wall and I realize it’s encased in a thin glass.

  “The humidity in here…it needed to be protected.” “Not that how! How was this taken, by whom, when, where?” The questions tumble out now that I’ve finally realized why he was worried that I may overreact. Hell yea! Somebody took my fucking picture when I was having sex, climaxing, unbeknownst to me! “Shhhh Imani. No one was taking your picture but me. The video from the cameras that monitor the house can be stilled and the photo was taken from a piece of footage from my bed, in Seattle, a month ago.

  A copy hangs in the same place at home.” He’s looking at me now, our magnet pulling stronger than is imaginable. This, albeit strange but lascivious picture is another way he claims me. I’m starting to understand this irrational trait and with that understanding I calm and take a deep breath before I set him at ease. “It’s…breathtaking.” Stepping to me he turns my body to face him and begins to back me toward the wall next to his symbol of ultimate adoration and connection. I’m pressed against the cool stone, he places his hands on either side of my head and touches his forehead to mine. “I want to see your face like that again and again…and again.”

  Chapter 28

  Eyes closed I let myself be taken away. His lips softly press against mine, he alternates agonizing control with quick moments of frantic need. It makes me think of an EKG reading, steady with small leaps away from the baseline followed by abrupt peaks and then back to the steady line. Just when I think we’ve passed the point of foreplay he reigns it back in and we begin again, it’s maddening. “You. Are. My. Queen.” He breathes heavily into my ear, pausing between each word as he turns me to face the wall and slowly unzips my dress. I grip two jutting pieces of stone and hold on, savoring the experience of being adored by my soul mate. Every inch of skin that is exposed he traces with his finger until my back is bare. “Not even a smudge.” He’s talking about his artwork from this afternoon scrawled all over my back.

  Gathering my hair he wraps it around his wrist and loops it into a messy fat knot, draping it over my shoulder then he pushes my dress forward off of my shoulders. It’s not that easy though to remove skin tight sequins that extend to my wrists but he manages, slipping his fingers under the material, letting it bunch along the tops of his hands. I pull away from the wall and drop my head back onto his shoulder. A moan echoes around the room bouncing off of the walls causing a pang of desire to hit me between my legs. Bending my arms and shoving the dress from my fingertips there is nothing left holding it to me and it slinks to my feet. I slide one hand back behind Marcus’s neck and he wraps one of his around my throat gently and caresses my breast with the other, pulling and teasing, sliding it between his fingers and finally pinching it causing a whimper to escape my lips.

  He turns me suddenly to face him, drawing me close he lifts me off of my feet, kissing and walking toward the edge of the pool. Too soon for my liking he sets me down at the edge of the pool turning me toward the water. “Sit.” I lower my bare ass to the tile and ease my legs into the warm heated water. I’m thankful for the warm water I hate the cold and I didn’t want to look like a baby easing into the p
ool.

  As always with Marcus I feel at home in my nakedness and lean back on my hands kicking my feet in the water lazily while I watch him undress, god I love watching him undress. Toeing off his shoes and socks while simultaneously sliding off his tuxedo coat, I take it all in, every graceful movement, every serious look. Button after button my hungry eyes eat him up until he slips his shirt off and ambles to a nearby table where he drops his cufflinks and buttons clinking against the glass.

  His chiseled chest and abdominal muscles are exquisite, nothing short of a perfect male body. Next his belt is unbuckled, zipper lowered and I’m finally satisfied seeing every inch of him, every muscle, scar, perfection and flaw, I delight in them all, especially the steely length of his cock pointing straight at me. My unsteady heart lurches into my throat as he unabashedly advances and takes me by surprise diving into the pool in a perfect arch disappearing into the blue water. Seconds later he emerges and shakes the droplets of water from his hair and face, shooting me down with his one sided smirk.

  I sit up and lean forward holding the edge of the pool. “Stay there gorgeous.” And I wait while he sinks under the water reappearing between my legs smiling up at me. He watches as his hands caress from my feet to my knees, ink blurring and smearing all over my skin, glancing up at me once but returning his focus to my body. My skin burns under his gaze, screaming to be touched everywhere at once I can hardly be still, in fact I can’t, I fidget which earns me another smirk.

  “Open your legs, scoot to the edge.” No problem, I’m there in an instant eager to have his hands and mouth on me. My ass perched on the very edge of the pool, Marcus's body sways in the water between my legs as he begins the tormenting ritual of rubbing his name from my skin, cupping water in his hands, pouring it onto a specific area and removing the ink. I’m going to die if he won’t move it along and forget about cleaning me up.

  “Marcus…” I try to speak. “Shhhhh Imani, let me undo what I’ve done.” His words are intentionally loaded, he knows nothing will undo what he’s done to me, but he’s thinking of the negative and I think only of the positive. He has lit a fire in me that is not extinguishable, there is nothing that can make me stop cherishing every aspect of him, even the bad ones. I accept him, every fucked up crazy molecule that makes up Marcus Nathaniel Castillo is loved. I try to behave but I’m getting very impatient. Finally, no ink is visible on my legs and he looks up at me through his thick long eyelashes, only a thin ring of green surrounds his large dark pupils and I know now what “bedroom eyes” are.

  Laying his cheek against the inside of my thigh he moans softly and moves until I feel his breath against my wet core. His arm snakes from the water and wraps around my ass pulling me even further to the edge as he slides his tongue along the outside of my slit. I arch my back, my body begging for more and reach to tangle my fingers in his hair. At the same time, he slides a long finger down my center and inside of me and begins circling my clit with his tongue. I’m launched into another galaxy writhing under his expert hands and mouth, the initial contact causes me to yell out and every stroke thereafter coaxes another gasp until I’m not sure I can’t breathe anymore.

  My eyes roll so far back into my head it’s painful and I grip his hair savagely when I come. I don’t realize he has moved me from the edge of the pool and is holding me firmly against his face until the electrical currents zapping my nerve endings begin to settle and I catch my breath. He allows me to slide down until my knees are hooked over his shoulders and my pulsing center presses against his chest. Arms linked behind his neck we bob in the water together until both of us have caught our breath.

  “Again.” I adore his caveman one word communications. Removing one leg at a time from my awkward position I slide down Marcus’s body into the water and right over the head of his thick ready cock. He hisses a long breath and I wrap my legs around his waist pushing against him deepening the connection. Fuuuck…Imani…ahhh.” His words propel me into motion. I yearn to thrust fast and hard but I know that isn’t his way. Start slow, work me until I’m insane and then give it to me hard until I explode…that’s Marcus’s way.

  I slide along his length easily. I watch the erotic sight of his cock slipping in and out of me under the water and he lowers his eyes as well until he removes my hands from his shoulders with his and supporting my back he lays me down on the water in front of him. “You’re so beautiful Imani. Relax your arms out, let me take you somewhere else, away from our world, away from the pain…the fear…the worry. Baby, let me make it all go away.” I close my eyes and drift to that place with him while we find a rhythm that is so satisfying I would drown if he weren’t holding onto my back with both hands.

  The warm water rushes past my ears with every thrust, my hair floats around me tangling and flowing like a mermaid in the ocean. He picks up the pace in his own good time and when he does I’m heaved up against his chest, our wet skin gliding, our mouths colliding in his last effort to hold onto that raveling thread of control. But thankfully, it’s impossible and digging my nails into his back and yelling his name for the second time in an hour I soar over the cliff of sanity plunging downward into a pleasure I can’t imagine most people ever experience.

  Chapter 29

  Marcus gave Cecilia the afternoon off. I’m watching him move around in his kitchen like a professional chef. Despite his visual disturbances, which he informed me are intermittent when I asked him how he was able to chop veggies without cutting a finger off. After a coma like night of sleep fully drugged and wrapped in each other’s arms we puttered away the morning until I got a phone call from Dr. Carlson. He informed me he would be arriving this evening.

  I think Marcus wanted to busy himself while we wait by cooking. He’s been acting different since I got the call. I have mixed feelings about the good doctor’s visit too. I’m thrilled at the thought of having that tumor removed and possibly living a long and fulfilling life with Marcus but the more I examine the facts the more doubts I have. How do you weigh the good and bad of this situation when neither is clear? Of course I want him to live…but what kind of life would he have if the tumor was removed from his brain and he returned to his old self? From what I’ve learned the monster of a man Marcus was before his car accident isn’t someone who is missed or someone who would be welcomed back…anywhere.

  I have so many questions and concerns for Dr. Carlson, I can’t wait for him to arrive. Marcus however, isn’t so enthusiastic. He’s made it clear he has low expectations concerning surgery but he will go through with it for me. Dr. Carlson isn’t the only visitor we have coming today. Marcuss lawyers are meeting here to add me to all of his accounts, his will and whatever else a millionaire entrepreneur stamps his name on. I can’t decide if I’m more stressed about the lawyers or Dr. Carlson.

  I know about medical conditions and physicians and Marcus knows business and finance so we are going to have to trust each other a lot today with both of these meetings. “Can you go through with all of these legal transactions while you’re…umm…” “Crazy?” he finishes my sentence for me. “Well I wasn’t going to say that!” “What were you going to say then?” The music on my iPad changes to a more upbeat tune totally contrasting with the conversation making it even more uncomfortable. “Well?” he prods and pours pasta in a pot of boiling water. “I thought you didn’t eat gluten.”

  Not a subtle subject change but I don’t know how to tell him he’s crazy without saying “crazy”. “Nice try baby, and it is gluten free. Maria makes it home made with rice instead of wheat. Now I believe you were asking me a question.” He's trying to make me say it. “Ok, so do they know you aren’t always, you?” He chuckles and stirs. “Very diplomatic of you, Ms. Jefferson.” “I try.” “No. They don’t know. And you will not bring it up either. I want this Imani, and if you don’t let me have it I won’t let you have what you want.”

  He’s stopped cooking and is eyeing me seriously across the island bracing his arms against the granite, waitin
g. Master manipulator hard at work, he knows he has me. “You’re impossible, why do you insist on this?” “Because I need the reassurance of knowing you will be taken care of.” I sigh and roll my eyes as he rounds the island to swivel my bar stool bringing us face to face. He traces the line of my jaw with his finger and I tilt my cheek into his hand. “I don’t need all of this.” “Nobody needs all that I have, but someone has to have it and you’re my someone. Please…don’t fight me on this, just accept it.” He had me when he said “please”.

  Please from this powerful, seemingly manner-less, man is my weakness. I soften my resolve and nod in agreement. “That’s my girl.” He plants a quick kiss on my lips and leaves me wanting more. “Are you hungry?” I am hungry, for him, but my stomach chooses this exact moment to growl loudly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He illuminates the room with his broad smile and I prop my elbows on the counter and cradle my face in my hands. “So what are we having?” “One of my Aunt Angelica’s favorites, Penne Rigate and Vegetables Gratin, and chocolate biscotti for dessert.” A little appreciative moan escapes my lips and he looks up from his work.

  “We have a big day, you can’t make sounds like that and not expect me to take you straight to bed, behave.” he says pointing a long wooden spoon in my direction sternly. “Yes sir, I’ll behave, scouts honor, I swear.” I hold up three fingers and then cross them over my heart. “You were never a scout.” “You’re right.” I giggle. The doorbell chimes a few minutes later while Marcus pours a sauce over the pasta in a baking dish, the house smells divine and my mouth is watering.

  Damn lawyers, I was hoping we would eat before they arrived. “Were you expecting them now?” I ask. He shakes his head no obviously a little annoyed by the interruption, covering the dish and sliding it into the oven. “Well that’s that, we should go meet with them in my office.” “Ok.” I tap my iPad stopping the music and go to him. I’m not going to give him any more grief on the subject, I think this irrational and unnecessary, but the idea comforts him. We walk hand in hand to his office where I’m about to accept responsibility for an obscene number of assets that I will never have to manage because nobody is going anywhere. Marcus will be fine and he will continue on, running his business and restaurants like he always has.