Her Dom: A Dark Romance (Beauty and the Captor Book 3)

by Nicole Casey

  We stayed in the den for another two hours, though there was no more talk of escape plans. After a few minutes of tense silence, Michael had turned the conversation to his wife, telling me about how they met, how she spoke of my mother often—their childhood together and my mother getting caught up with the wrong people. I told him what I could about my mother, how she spoke of her family on occasion, how we’d moved a lot, though I didn’t know why until recently. Whether it was James or Marcos she’d been trying to hide from, I’d never know for sure though—probably both of them.

  I didn’t want to talk to Michael. I still wanted him to leave, especially since this man who knew too much about me wasn’t going to help me. But I couldn’t make myself get up and leave the room. He knew about my family—family I had never met. He knew my mother had taken ballet classes when she was six years old and that she’d fallen out of a tree when she was nine and broken her arm—things I’d never known. Things nobody else in the world could tell me. I shouldn’t care. What difference did it make? My mother was dead, and so was the aunt who I’d never met. But I was hungry for it anyways.

  Two hours through though, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. After hours of Derek’s torture device, it was a wonder I’d stayed awake this long. Apparently, though, I did end up drifting off because the next thing I knew, I was in Derek’s arms and he was laying me down on the bed. He stripped off my sweater, t-shirt and pants, then tucked the covers up over my bra-clad breasts. I felt his heat beside me, and then his arms around me, but I was going under fast.

  “I love you,” I whispered. I don’t know why I said it. We didn’t say things like that often because it was unnecessary. It was intrinsic in everything we were, everything we said and everything we did. But it seemed important now. It was the reason I was going to defy him, and he needed to know that. I could only hope he’d understand that when it came time to dole out my punishment for it.

  I had no choice, and in this, that didn’t bother me one bit.

  12

  Scarlett

  The moment I opened my eyes, I was off the bed and across the room. I wasn’t going to make it. Ten more steps, but it seemed like a mile. My stomach roiled violently and the back of my throat burned.

  I lunged for the toilet just as my stomach heaved its contents, convulsing my body and making sweat bead on my brow and trickle down the back of my neck.

  Seconds later, Derek’s fingers were there, sweeping my hair off my neck and holding it back. I could do nothing but kneel there, gripping the toilet seat as my body expelled everything.

  When the worst of it had subsided, I took a deep breath. And then I gasped as it hit me—the truth, the reason I’d made a mad dash for the toilet two mornings in a row. Why for mornings before that I’d woken to nausea brewing in my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a period—not since before those two men had grabbed me and changed the course of my life irrevocably. But Derek and I only had sex a few times before I was taken. A few times before I was raped over and over again.

  I was pregnant. Pregnant, with no idea who the baby belonged to. Except, I knew, didn’t I? What were the chances the baby was Derek’s?—that fate hadn’t found another way to make me suffer? I was gasping and sobbing, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.

  Derek drew me back against him. Even when I tried to wriggle out of his arms, he held me there. “Shh, it’s OK, Scar. It’s going to be OK,” he whispered, holding me firm with one arm while he stroked my hair back with his other hand.

  The sob rising in my throat got stuck. It was the way he’d said it like he knew why I was freaking out. Oh god, he knew. He knew, and he hadn’t said a word. That wasn’t the worst part though. If he knew I was pregnant, then he also knew the baby inside me could belong to another man—man who’d tortured me, used me.

  The sob worked itself free and several more rose behind it, wracking my body. If the baby was Derek’s, I’d be rejoicing. I’d find some way to make sure he survived and we’d live happily ever after. But now, when we walked away from Mateo Lopez, what would happen? How would Derek look at me when my belly grew big with another man’s—a monster’s—baby? And once he was born, how would Derek be able to look at him with anything other than hatred? A baby, half me, and the other half, not him.

  “It’s not fair,” I sobbed.

  “No, it isn’t fair, but you’ll get through this.”

  Not “we’ll” get through this. He’d said I would get through this. Was he saying that because he didn’t think he was going to be alive, or because this was too much?

  I cried. Misery, fear and anger, all mingled in my tears. They drained me dry, but when they finally dissipated, a strange calmness settled over me. It wasn’t acceptance. It wasn’t numbness.

  It was certainty. A certainty that Derek and I had both suffered enough, far more than any person ever should.

  I’d hit rock bottom. I’d seen a glimpse of a future without Derek, either because he was dead or because he couldn’t bear to look at the baby I was carrying, and I refused to accept it.

  I was done being afraid. I was done wondering what was going to happen. I was going to find some way to keep Derek alive, and we were going to be together. And somehow, he wasn’t going to be reminded of where the baby came from every time he looked at him. No more fear and no more uncertainty.

  “You’re right, I’m going to get through this,” I said, and it felt good to hear so much determination in my voice.

  The nausea had already subsided. I moved to stand, but Derek wouldn’t let me. He carried me back to the bed and left me sitting there to retrieve a glass of water from the bathroom. I drank it down obediently, keeping my head down as a plan began to formulate in my mind.

  Derek had weapons in the bedroom closet and a computer. I’d caught a glimpse of them when he’d opened the door to get his clothes yesterday. I would have to find a way to get a hold of one of the guns. I’d sneak it with me when I left with Michael, though hopefully, I wouldn’t have to use the gun on him.

  Instead, I’d insist on stopping for food at some run-down diner an hour or two into the drive. From there, I’d excuse myself to go to the bathroom and slip out the back door. I’d have to get onto Derek’s computer to learn how to hotwire a car. It would be best if I could hotwire Michael’s car so he’d be stuck there, but any car would do. Then I’d drive close to the meeting spot, walk the rest of the way and still have hours to wait for Derek—and Mateo Lopez—to arrive. Even if Michael informed Derek I’d ditched him, there would be nothing either of them could do about it.

  No doubt, it wouldn’t be easy, but it was simple.

  Now all I had to do was keep Derek from realizing what I was up to. I’d continue to object, pose alternative ideas—whatever I could think of—to keep him from cluing in. I had to pull it off. Derek could not know what was going on in my head this time.

  That was precisely what I did. I told him I didn’t want to worry about the baby until after this was over, and he didn’t press the issue. And then I proceeded to object to his plan and pose ridiculous ones of my own over the next three days. I even managed to earn myself a spanking twice for unruly behavior—followed by incredible sex, of course.

  He was buying it. On the last day, I slowly transitioned to begrudging and teary-eyed acceptance of his plan. It hurt him when I cried, but I couldn’t risk raising his suspicions now. The sun had already begun to set, and there were just a few hours left before it would be time for Michael and I to leave.

  Michael—I felt bad for what I was going to do to him, too. Though I was still uncomfortable around a man who’d seen every dark side of me, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. Actually, I was kind of starting to like him. He’d kept his presence as unobtrusive as possible, but when I did see him, when he told me stories about places he’d been or things he and my aunt had done, well, he was a rather difficult person to dislike. Derek was going to be angry with him when I escaped, but hopefully,
he’d forgive him when everything turned out OK.

  “Lie down on the bed, Pet,” Derek’s voice cut into my thoughts as he walked into the bedroom.

  I’d been kneeling, naked, at the side of the bed. I thought he’d gone to get food, but there was no food and no tray in his hands. Perplexed, I hurried to obey, wondering what he had in mind.

  He approached until he stood next to the bed, but he didn’t join me.

  “As your master, you have to obey me, correct?”

  Uh oh. He couldn’t possibly know. I’d done such a good job hiding my plan. “Yes,” I answered with as little guilt in my tone as I could.

  “When I tell you to do something, you have to do it, right?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “And when I tell you not to do something, you have no choice but to obey?”

  Damn it, this wasn’t good. “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. I’m glad we understand.” He sat down next to me and his hands glided over my body from my shoulders to my ankles. Light, teasing strokes that made my body relax into the bed.

  When his hands moved to palm my breasts and his fingers grazed across my nipples, I moaned languidly. Maybe all those questions were just because he needed to hear the answers. Because he thought we only had a few hours left and he needed to know I was his.

  His grasp became firmer and he caught my nipples between his fingers, squeezing harder and sending shocks of heat through my body. His mouth replaced one of his hands and he suckled my nipple into his mouth, gently at first and then harder. My hands moved of their own volition to the back of his head, holding him there against me. I wanted to hold tighter when he released me, but his lips began to travel downward and my whole body shivered in anticipation of where his mouth was heading.

  Lower, past my ribs. Still lower, down my stomach. When he’d left a trail of kisses over my mound and I could feel his warm breath on my clit, I tilted my hips up, urging him closer.

  It took me a bit by surprise when he gave in and closed the distance between us. His tongue flicked back and forth across my clit before he sucked it into his mouth. Gentle, and then harder, making me writhe beneath him as I dug my fingers into the mattress.

  His hand left my breast, but a second later I felt him gliding down my sex, parting me, opening me. His finger thrust in, bent, stroking the front wall slowly. He knew exactly where and just how to touch me. So intense. He wasn’t moving fast. Slow enough I could feel every miniscule move he made, but it was just right. So freaking right. Between his mouth on my clit and his fingers inside me, I was already a wet mess on a fast climb to heaven.

  He continued to stroke and suck, and I could even feel his tongue flicking across my clit in his mouth. I was panting and moaning and writhing. So good. So close. Just a few more seconds.

  “Don’t come,” he released me long enough to say, though his finger kept up its work inside me.

  “What?” He couldn’t be serious.

  “You heard me. Do not come. You do not have my permission, and I’ve expressly told you not to come.”

  He sucked my clit back into his mouth. Hard. So damn good. My fingers dug into the mattress, and I tried to squirm my hips away. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t make my body feel like this and then tell me not to come. God, no, I wasn’t going to be able to stop it.

  He kept thrusting and sucking. I clenched hard, trying to resist. I tried to pull away, but he held me there. How could he expect me to obey? How? I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t make my body stop. What he was doing just felt too good. So much pressure. So much heat. I tried to fight with everything inside me, but the first hot waves of my orgasm burst out from my core, and I screamed as they carried me away.

  I hadn’t even come down from the high when panic gripped me. What was he going to do? It wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t stop it, but I’d disobeyed nonetheless. I envisioned another round with the torture clamps—he would think that a fitting punishment, wouldn’t he? To torment me for hours while the damn thing made sure I didn’t get to come.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” I whispered, not that I expected it to do me any good.

  “What happened, Pet?”

  “I couldn’t stop. I tried, Master. I did.”

  “You didn’t want to come, but what I was doing to your body made it impossible to stop, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.” I’d only just gotten the word out when I realized what he’d been doing, and why he’d been doing it.

  “In your mind and your heart, you would not have disobeyed me, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was just your body that couldn’t stop. Just nerve endings and receptors.”

  It wasn’t a question this time, but I nodded anyway because I desperately wanted him to be right. He’d been doing this to show me that I wasn’t a whore, that it had been nothing more than nerve endings responding in that dungeon. Not me. Not any of the parts of me that mattered.

  “Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good, because I have something else in mind. Get on your hands and knees, up by the headboard.”

  I felt lighter like there was actually less weight pressing me down as I rolled over and crawled up near the headboard. He stood up and came around to where I was. I didn’t see the rope in his hand until he was looping it around my wrists and securing them to the headboard.

  Then he was stripping off his clothes as he walked back the way he’d come. I turned my head to watch him. My mouth was already watering by the time he’d yanked his shirt off over his head. Absolute male perfection. Then he stripped off his pants, unleashing his massive erection, and I was surprised I wasn’t salivating like a dog. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, imagining him there, feeling his steel encased in velvet between my lips.

  “Eyes forward, Pet,” he demanded when he caught me staring.

  I tore my gaze off him while my body thrummed in nervous anticipation. I felt his weight depress the mattress as he climbed up behind me. My clit was already pulsing, waiting for his touch, or to feel him filling my sex. But seconds passed, and he hadn’t touched me. He was looking at me; I could feel his gaze blazing a trail up the backs of my thighs and setting my sex on fire.

  When I finally felt him graze his fingers along my open lips, my body jolted from the fiery contact.

  “I love how sensitive you are, how you respond every time I touch you,” he said as he dipped a finger inside me.

  I didn’t panic when he slipped it out and his finger glided with my wetness up to my anus. He circled me there, and I waited with bated breath for him to penetrate me. It would feel good. I knew it would. Instead, though, he returned to my sex, dipping in and then gliding back up to my other hole. Again and again. I was moaning and pressing back against him. I needed to feel him inside me, somewhere—anywhere.

  “Do you want me to finger your ass?” he asked, circling my anus.

  “Yes, Master.”

  His finger pushed inside slowly, just the tip, and then further, all the way to his knuckle. When he withdrew, he added another slick finger, stretching me slowly. I panicked when he withdrew and started to add a third finger. I thought it would be too much, but he grabbed my hip and continued to press forward. I moaned. It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. So good.

  Then he slipped right out and I actually whimpered at the loss, but when I felt him press against me next, I shot forward, trying to get away. It wasn’t his fingers pressed against my anus. It was his cock. Massive and hard.

  His arm wrapped beneath my stomach, drawing me back to him. “Just relax, Pet. I’m going to fuck your ass, and I want you to enjoy it.”

  I wanted that too. I just didn’t see how it was possible. I was still struggling against him when he thrust forward and the head of his cock penetrated me. He was so big. I was stretched to the max. I could feel the burn and it made my body shake over what was to come.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, and then his fingers were on my cl
it. Firm, slow circles. Trust him. I did trust him. So I took slow, deep breaths, and focused on his fingers rubbing my clit. He pressed forward, a little at a time. So stretched. Still shaking. Further and further, inch after slow inch until his hips pressed against my cheeks.

  “I’m inside you,” he said reassuringly, but it was the possessiveness in his voice that shocked through my body.

  I was full. So full, but it didn’t really hurt. Maybe a little, but it was the good kind of pain, the kind that shot straight to my clit and made me feel like I was on fire.

  He withdrew, so slowly it was as if he was reluctant to leave for even a second. I willed my muscles to relax when he thrust back in slowly and a moan rolled effortlessly off my tongue.

  With every thrust, his pace increased and the scorching heat inside me grew brighter. I couldn’t believe it could feel so good, so intense. His fingers left my clit, but when he shoved them in my sex seconds later, I bucked back against him, ramming him into the hilt as his balls slapped against me.

  This had been my fantasy, the dirty fantasy that had terrified me, but Derek was fulfilling it and turning it into something else. Not dirty, but erotic. Not terrifying, but hot and driving me wild with pleasure.

  “Come for me, Pet. Now. I want to watch you come with my cock in your ass.”

  As always I was helpless to resist. Two more thrusts, his fingers working in time with his cock, and I collapsed forward, muffling my screams in the pillow as he took me over the edge yet again.

  His own shout a minute later as he thrust in one last time must have been heard from miles away.

  13

  Derek

  “Wake up, Scar,” I whispered against her ear.

  It was time. I didn’t want it to be. Fuck, I would have given just about anything to be able to crawl back into bed beside her. But what I’d be giving would be any hope of keeping her safe, and I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t, no matter how much it killed me to let her go.