Black Velvet (The Velvet Rooms Book 1)

by Linnea May

  I respond with an ached groan because he’s pulling the collar with such force that it robs me of my voice. He realizes that, releasing his grasp a little so I can give him the answer he is waiting for.

  The only answer that will not end in me going back into that horrible attic.

  “Yes, Master,” I say between gritted teeth.

  “Now, let’s try this again,” he whispers. His tone has changed and is surprisingly soft in comparison to before. “I’m offering you something very nice here. Only a very bad girl would refuse such a generous offer. And what do bad girls get?”

  “Punishment,” I hiss.

  I hate the way he’s speaking to me. As if I was a dumb child.

  “That’s right,” he says, smiling at me. I want to spit in his goddamn handsome face. The contrast between his physical attractiveness and the monster that possesses his soul is driving me mad.

  “And what do good girls get?” he wants to know.

  I hesitate, because I don’t know the exact word he’s looking for, and if I’ve learned anything from the short time we’ve spent together, it’s that saying the right thing is of utmost importance with him.

  “Treats?” I try, sighing with relief when I see him nodding.

  “Correct,” he says. “You were very brave right now, so I think you deserve a little treat. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I assume this question is a trap, but I dare a subtle nod in response to it.

  “I’m offering you a hot shower,” he says. “As a treat for being such a good girl just now. Will you accept this offer?”

  I’m scared to say yes, but rejecting anything he offers so generously seems like a dumb idea.

  “Yes,” I hear myself say. “Yes, Master, I would love that.”

  A smile appears on his face, a smile that I would almost call loving if it wasn’t for the terrible person I know he can be.

  “Good,” he says, and lets go of me. “Have your shower then.”

  I don’t know why, but I was dumb enough to believe he would leave the room for this. Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he walks over to the stool in front of the vanity and sits down, crossing his legs as he casts me an expectant look.

  “You’re... staying?” I ask, even though that questions is redundant, as he has already proven his intentions.

  He nods, still smiling. “Of course. I am not going to miss this, my Pet.”

  I turn into a pillar, unable to move while our eyes are locked on each other. So this is what he is, a sexual predator. He is going to rape me.

  But if that’s what he is after, why hasn’t he done it yet? He’s strong, way stronger than me. Instead of asking me to undress last night, he could have ripped my clothes off and taken what he wanted from me. But all he did was threaten me by ripping my pantyhose. He pinned me down, and scared me, but he didn’t do anything. When I didn’t oblige his wishes, he simply left the room.

  And now he’s not lifting a finger either. He sits a few feet away from me, reveling in my struggle.

  It’s hard to ignore the warm tingling between my legs when I begin to undress in front of him. His eyes flicker with approval as I finally surrender to his wishes.

  Chapter 14

  Joseph

  She reluctantly takes off her suit jacket, avoiding me with her eyes just like she did before. So this is her game then. She’s playing the shy girl, the inexperienced good girl, the one who has never done anything like this before. All the other girls smiled and winked at me while they undressed in front of me for the first time. They flirted, seductively displaying their lean bodies as they tried to entice me.

  It was all fine. I found some of them to be too sassy, especially when they made cheeky remarks during their striptease. But I was pleased with most of their performances.

  Never as pleased as I am with hers, though.

  Sweet little Ruby opts for a different kind of play. Her role differs from everyone else. And so does her body. The more of her immaculate skin she shows me, the more I begin to doubt my own eyes. She’s less curvy than I expected based on the pictures, her hair is darker and her ass smaller. Her boobs look different, too. They’re round and firm, but are dropping lower than I would have expected from the silicone-filled melons I saw in her file. They look soft and natural, very alluring. Real.

  She closes her eyes, grimacing as if she was in pain, as she finally takes off the last few pieces of clothing, her bra and the black lacey thong I already saw last night.

  She looks different - but so damn beautiful that it’s hard for me to remain patient. My cock rises to attention, growing harder with every piece of clothing she removes, playing havoc with my resolution.

  I’m not going to touch her. I’m not going to do anything to her. I’m just going to watch.

  She stands before me, bare ass naked and looking fucking delicious, when her eyes seek mine, asking for permission.

  “Go ahead,” I encourage her. “Take a hot shower, as long as you want. I have all the time in the world.”

  She swallows, pressing her lips together in despair.

  “You’re going to watch?” she asks.

  I nod. “I already told you, I will.”

  She sighs, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. With all her transgressions, she might just as well beg for punishment.

  Later, I have to remind myself. Later.

  I watch as she enters the glass-enclosed shower cabin and turns on the water. She turns her back to me, allowing me to watch her perfectly round ass while she welcomes the hot water as it streams down her flawless skin. The sigh she lets out speaks of so much relief and joy that it causes me to smile. She shall have her treat now, but nothing will spare her what’s to come later.

  She takes her time, using every single one of the expensive spa products I’ve laid out for her, soaping her body extensively, relishing the humid heat surrounding her.

  “Shave yourself,” I command her, after she’s already spent a significant amount of time under the hot water.

  She casts me an indignant look, and I can see the spark of revolt blossoming in her face, before she bites her lower lip and reaches for the razor.

  “Take your time,” I soothe her. “Do it thoroughly.”

  She mumbles something back at me, but her words are low enough to be drowned out by the running water.

  “I want you smooth,” I add to my order. “Every part of you. Every single day. Do you understand?”

  I raise my voice, so she can hear me. She does hear me, but instead of giving the reply she’s supposed to give, she just sneers at me for a brief moment.

  Bad girl.

  She follows the order precisely, moving very slowly and with caution. I can tell that she’s trying to prolong her time under the shower, because there she feels safe from me. But she can’t stay in there forever.

  “I think you’re done,” I say, after so much time has passed that the entire bathroom has turned into a steam bath. “Turn off the water and get out.”

  She hesitates for a moment, standing with her back to me while basking in the last drops of the beloved shower. She can have this every day if she behaves. If she behaves.

  I get up from my seat and fetch one of the big plush towels for her, while she finally turns off the water as I instructed. She doesn’t open the glass door of the shower, but waits for me to do it.

  “Please,” she breathes when I approach her. “Please don’t hurt me, Master.”

  Her voice is so weak, so frightened, suppressing another round of tears. It feels as if she truly fears me.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I promise. “I’m just going to dry you off. Turn around.”

  She sighs, her breath trembling the same as her voice and body. The makeup she wore must not have been waterproof, as most of it has disappeared, leaving only a small hint of black smudge around her blue eyes. Just like everything else, her eye color is not an ordinary blue, but underline
d with hints of gray. This is the first time that I notice, now that she’s standing in bright light and it’s hitting her from a different angle than before.

  “I’m not going to touch you,” I tell her. “Just stay still.”

  She nods. I want to believe that her shivering is not only because of her fear for me, but because she’s getting cold now that the shower is turned off.

  I go down on my knees before her, something that she won’t see often. It’s a gesture that serves a purpose. I don’t know if she’s just an incredibly good actress, or if she’s actually afraid of me, but in any case, I need to gain her trust. She needs to know that I stay true to my words, the good and the bad.

  I told her that I wouldn’t touch her, and I won’t. When I begin to dab the water off her body, I make sure that there’s no direct skin to skin contact. The towel is always between us, never exposing her to my touch, no matter if I travel along her ankles, her slim legs, her soft thighs, her alluring core, or the curves of her perfect breasts.

  I can sense her relaxing more and more with every inch. Her growing trust is palpable.

  “Lift your arms,” I tell her, and she obeys immediately.

  I finish drying her off, gently lowering her arms when I wrap the giant towel around her shoulders.

  “You may wrap this around you, if you feel more comfortable,” I whisper in her ear. “But you’re not putting on any clothes just yet.”

  She doesn’t give me a reply, but wraps the towel around herself, hiding her beautiful body from my hungry eyes.

  “Did you enjoy that shower?” I want to know.

  She nods. “Yes.”

  “What do good girls say?”

  A frown fleets across her face. “Yes, Master.”

  I lift an eyebrow at her. “Almost. I just gave you a treat. Don’t you think you should thank me?”

  Her eyes flicker with hatred. She’s brilliant. The agency really did an excellent job this time.

  “Thank you, Master,” she hisses. And even though her words aren’t heartfelt, I let her go for now.

  “You’re welcome, Pet,” I say. “Come with me.”

  I lead her by hooking my finger in the ring on her collar, wishing I had taken the leash with me so I could do this properly.

  Later.

  She holds on tightly to the towel wrapped around her body, her face apathetic and hard to read, as she follows me into the next room.

  Chapter 15

  Liana

  I know very little about what a person is to do in a situation like this, and I curse myself for it. There are so many warnings out there, so many self-defense classes for women, so many “how-to” videos that could have taught me some valuable tips. Tips to escape, tips to stay strong and sane, tips to outwit him so that I can create a chance to escape.

  But I know nothing. I am helpless and completely at his mercy. It would be easy to escape his grip as he leads me by pulling at the collar, but where would it get me? If I started running, he would catch me within seconds. He is a strong and fit man, as far as I can tell. Fitter than me, that’s for sure.

  Besides, where would I even run? From what little I saw through the windows as he dragged me through the hallway, it appears that we are out in the middle of nowhere. I saw nothing but a vast and empty landscape, no other houses, no people, no cars. I have no idea how long I was passed out, but it must have been long enough for him to get me out of the city, even beyond its suburbs. I don’t even know if we’re still in Massachusetts, or if he took me over the border to another state.

  I hold on to the towel, leaving all of my clothes behind in the bathroom, as he leads me out through a door other than the one we came through earlier. It doesn’t open up to another hallway, but to a room.

  A room unlike any I have ever seen before. It’s a gigantic bedroom, with a massive canopy bed to my right. The bed frame is made of black steel with an elegant design and light curtains that are draped to the sides. I cannot help but notice the shackles that are attached to each of the four bed posts. This bed is designed for tying someone down.

  The light gray carpet feels soft and warm beneath my naked feet, and if it wasn’t for the circumstances under which I am being led in here, I could actually appreciate this beautiful room, with its high ceilings, the stucco elements gracing the white walls, and the pearl white vanity desk placed opposite the bed. There’s a big mirror on top of the desk, surrounded by a row of small lights, and carved details on the frame, as well as on the desk itself. Other than those two items, there’s only a dresser, featuring the same design as the vanity with a pearl white finish and marble top. There’s a door right next to the vanity, but it’s closed - and most likely locked.

  The dark steel of the bed stands in stark contrast to the rest of the room, just as my leathery collar.

  He comes to a halt and lets go of me, giving me a few seconds to take in the room. There are two big windows right in front of us, and even from afar I can tell that they are double-glassed and locked. The view is both beautiful and discouraging at the same time. The same green landscape I saw before, gorgeous but deserted.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” he tells me. “No one will hear you, and no one will see you.”

  “I think I got that part,” I snap at him, and as soon as I do, his hand is back on me, grabbing my upper arm and squeezing it so hard that I groan in pain.

  “Don’t get smart with me,” he hisses. “You don’t want to test me any further.”

  Test him? Is that what he thinks I’m doing?

  We exchange a quick and angry stare before he drags me over to the bed. Panic arises in my chest as he moves me closer to the steel frame with its daunting shackles.

  “You’ve been giving me a hard time,” he says, turning me around to him and with my back to the bed. He pushes me backward, until the back of my knees meets the edge of the bed, and I involuntarily sink down to sit on it, directed by his hands on my naked shoulders.

  I shut my legs, pressing my knees together firmly, but he forces one of his legs between them, nudging me to move them apart. Even with the towel still covering the most intimate part of my body, I feel utterly exposed in front of him, especially when he’s not satisfied and pushes my legs even further apart.

  “Look at me,” he says.

  I follow his order, and as I slowly raise my gaze up to him, I notice the thick bulge between his legs. He’s hard, very hard from what I can tell. His suit pants stretch tightly over his erection, leaving little to the imagination.

  I blush at the sight of it, hit by surprise as I realize my own arousal.

  How can I possibly like this? How can my body betray me like this, when my mind is trying nothing but to find a way out of this horrible predicament?

  Of course, he noticed my short hesitation at the sight of his hardness. I’m met with a cocky smile when our eyes meet.

  “You can play with it when I allow it,” he says, as if it would be the most natural thing for me to beg for his cock after what he did to me. “For now, all you have to do is listen to me, obey, just follow along, and I promise you, you won’t regret it.”

  As if I had a choice. This is nothing but cruelty, but he speaks of it as if he’s being generous with me.

  I flinch when he touches my face, caressing along my left cheek before he takes my chin between his thumb and his index finger, holding me in place as I try to evade his touch.

  His hands are warm and surprisingly soft. I could enjoy his touch, if I was receiving it voluntarily, but like this? I refuse to enjoy this, despite my body’s insane reaction to him.

  “Don’t fight it,” he whispers, as if he can hear my thoughts. “It’ll be so much better if you don’t fight it.”

  I want to tell him to shut up and leave me alone, but I’m too afraid. I’m too afraid of everything, of him, of myself, of that horrible attic he just freed me from. It’s a perversion that I’m actually grateful. I’m grateful that h
e took me out of there, even though he was also the one who locked me up in there in the first place.

  Stockholm Syndrome. Even I have heard about it. Is this how it starts? Am I already falling for his tricks?

  He goes down on his knees, placing himself between my legs, and I’m awfully aware of my nakedness below the towel, my naked core only inches away from his face now.

  He looks up at me, still holding my face by the chin, as if to make sure that I don’t break eye contact.

  “I’m going to make you come now,” he announces, as if it was the most normal thing to say. “Drop the towel.”

  Chapter 16

  Liana

  His hands are resting on my naked thighs, patiently waiting as he fixates his unyielding gaze on me. Instinct tells me to protest his command and not expose my body to him like he asked, but I’m afraid of the consequences if I don’t.

  “Drop the towel, Pet,” he repeats. “You have to trust me.”

  Trust him? He is about to rape me, and he tells me to trust him? What the hell is going on inside his head? Are there two wires touching that shouldn’t be?

  “How can I trust you after what you have done to me?” I ask him.

  He chuckles.

  “Done to you?” he asks. “I just let you take a very long, hot shower. You’re not very grateful.”

  I frown at him. It’s like speaking to a wall.

  “You kidnapped me,” I remind him.

  An angry flicker darts through his eyes, and his lips move as if he wants to say something. But he stops himself and inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second before he continues speaking.

  “Okay, if this is how you want to do it,” he says in a low voice. “Let me phrase it this way. You either drop this towel now and let me enjoy your beautiful body, or I will lock you up in that attic again, naked.”

  His words feel like a dagger stabbing my heart.