Target This
Page 21
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By the time I was standing in the doorway of Autumn’s bedroom, I was dressed much like the night before: loose pants, no shirt, no shoes. I didn’t see the need in the additional time it would take to remove extraneous clothing.
My beautiful girl was asleep on her bed, the tight fit of her clothes looking uncomfortable where it was twisted and stretched over her frame. I laughed when I first saw her, wondering how she fell in asleep in the uncomfortable clothing to begin with.
“Autumn.” Keeping my voice low, I decided it was time to wake her up.
I’d been watching her for fifteen minutes at least, my eyes glancing over every curve of her supple figure. Her expression changed from time to time and I wondered what she could be dreaming about. She appeared frightened, but that would eventually turn into a look of carnal delight, soft moans escaping her lips as her body writhed above the covers. When her skirt slid up, and when the hint of skin on her inner thigh flashed in my line of sight, my cock jumped. I was hungry for something only this delicate beauty could provide.
Stepping into the room, I spoke with a comforting tone. “Wake up, Autumn. You can’t sleep all day.”
Her eyelashes fluttered and she turned her head to look in my direction. A smile began to creep along her full lips, but then her eyes widened and the smile vanished.
“Lucas.”
“Good morning – or, I should say ‘evening?’ You’ve been sleeping all day.”
Autumn
Flashes of memory raced through my mind when I saw him. He stood in front of me, his legs planted on the ground at shoulder width, nothing by loose pants covering his muscular form. He was breathtaking; so perfect, in fact, that it was almost painful to realize that his type of beauty could exist. My body woke up and craved him before the fear that consumed me could dampen its flame.
Despite my concerns with Lucas, and despite the fact that I knew this relationship meant nothing but heartache for me, I couldn’t help but become addicted to the way he made me feel. He was exactly as Sarah had described Cole: desirable, masculine, virile, dominating. Lucas was slowly seeping into my skin, taking control of every part of me regardless of whether my mind wanted him to or not.
“Um, yeah…” Sweeping my hand in front of my face, I brushed aside the hair that had fallen in front of my eyes. “I’m exhausted. Sarah wore me out today.” I hadn’t lied, but I also wasn’t completely truthful with him either. I was exhausted like I said, however I’d stayed in my room because I wanted to avoid him. I felt safer somehow when I was out of sight.
“So, I hear. I hope the shopping went well. If the clothes you wore earlier are an example of what’s to come, I can’t wait to see what else Sarah helped you select.”
The way he spoke, as if he knew what had happened today because it had happened before, rubbed against my nerves. Things that Sarah had said echoed through my thoughts and the questions I wanted to ask him earlier began to scream inside my head. I was too afraid to ask, but at the same time, knew I would go mad not knowing.
“How many times have you done this, Lucas?”
An odd expression flashed across his face before going blank again. His eyes burned into me, deep in contemplation, as he appeared to study my every move. “What are you talking about?”
“How many times have you kept a pet? This all seems very … repetitive: the third floor, the clothes. It’s like now that I’ve been initiated into whatever the hell this is, I’ve now been assigned a uniform.”
He smiled, but not a bright one that told me he was amused. No. His smile was darker somehow, something far more sinister than I’d expected from him before I agreed to stay here.
His next words were spoken slowly, carefully. “You have. I’ve told you before that a woman in my presence will dress a certain way.” He reached the side of the bed, offering his hand to help me sit up. I took it, but looked down to notice that my skirt was hiked up almost to my hips. When I reached down to straighten it, his large hand covered mine, squeezing to a point where I released the material. Kneeling down in front of me, he stroked his finger across my cheek.
“Sarah told me you two had talked, that you have questions. I’ll answer anything you like, Autumn, but understand that, sometimes, it’s better not to know too much.”
“How many?”
“Thirteen. You will be my fourteenth.”
“Fourteenth what? Pet, slave? What?”
His blue eyes met mine suddenly and my breath was stolen from my lungs. Flame existed behind the blue and something unreadable burned in the man who was now stroking his hands up my thighs. My body shivered at his touch and I fought to stay focused on the details of what he was confessing to me.
“Fourteenth muse. Fourteenth target, pet, slave. Call it whatever you’d like, but you are the fourteenth. Not that it really matters.”
I grew quiet, my body trembling again, but not from lust or desire, it was from the sudden realization that there was more to Lucas than I’d imagined. Even now, he seemed like somebody completely different. He was cold, calculating, like a snake ready to strike.
“I – I need to leave…”
Just as soon as the words had passed over my lips, his hand was wrapped around my mouth, his other having reached up to grip my hair, holding me in place, just like he always wanted me to be.
Seconds passed and he didn’t talk. I tried to move away from his hold, but he only tightened his hands when I did. Finally after I’d relaxed, after I’d given in to the fact that I would only move when he allowed it, he spoke.
“Before you make that decision, beautiful, I want to make sure you understand the situation for what it is. You have two choices. Choice number one is that you can leave here. You can gather your things and walk out that door into the rain. You can return to a life where you own nothing and there is a warrant out for you and where you’re being suspected of not only arson, but murder as well.”
My eyes widened immediately. Confusion overtook my thoughts and I attempted to pull away even harder. His fingers dug into my cheeks as my hair was twisted painfully tight around his other hand. The more I fought, the more he smiled, something cruel and dark, it was apparent he enjoyed the control. Having no other option, I relaxed again, a small bit of my soul being broken off with every act of submission to him.
Finally letting me go, he said, “Shhhhhh, I’m not finished yet. You need to hear this.” Bringing his hands down, he rubbed his hands up along my legs, pulling my skirt up to a point where nothing was hidden from his view. His fingertips brushed between the skin – just a tease, but enough to force the air from my lungs.
“Mary Beth’s phone was found in your yard.” He continued his machinations, slipping just the tip of his finger inside me while slowly massaging my clit with his thumb. A quiet moan escaped my lips, my body shuddering at his touch, but I couldn’t let go of the fear – the realization that things were not as they appeared.
“It had blood on it – her blood, in fact. So now, my beautiful girl, if you leave here, you’ll be locked away – never allowed to see the light again and with no person around that can help you.” His finger slipped farther inside until he could bend it, rubbing the pad along some hypersensitive place along the wall of my core. I bucked up and felt myself begin to drip over his hand. But my mind still wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t escape from the need to know what he’d done to me and where he now had me trapped.
He responded to my excitement with a deep chuckle, a quiet bit of his amusement in this game exposed for me to see. Pulling his finger away, I groaned without meaning to, the complaint coming from somewhere deep inside me – from the whore hidden beneath the persona. He’d been right. As usual, he’d seen right through my exterior to the hidden fantasies and desires that not even I had known existed. He’d tempted me with his words and trapped me with his body. I had to fight just to keep my wits intact enough in order to listen to what was being said.
“Your second choice, however, c
omes with far more sensual consequences. If you stay here, if you agree to being my slave – my muse – then you won’t see the inside of a prison.” His dark brown lashes blinked over his incandescent eyes. “Unless of course, I put you in one.” Pushing up, his mouth found mine and I returned his kiss without thought as to what I was doing. It was natural to respond to him – it was almost impossible not to get lost. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to keep pushing him to find out why he was doing this and what he meant by ‘being his slave’, but it was like my mind short-circuited when he touched me, making it impossible for me to question him further.
His kiss was possessive, consuming; his hands running greedily over every little bit of skin he could reach. The fingers dug in painfully, but the pain felt so fucking good. The woman I’d been when drunk was waking again. She was coming out of me in response to the carnal promises of the man who was slowly overtaking me and there was nothing to blame this time; not alcohol, not exhaustion, only the heated desire his touch produced inside me.
Reaching up, he grabbed my hair again, pulling it so that my eyes looked at the ceiling and my chest arched, presenting my breasts that were only covered by the thin shirt I wore over them.
“And if you stay here, if you submit, I can promise you night after night of having every sexual desire you’ve ever had filled. I can promise you, Autumn, it won’t be forever. You’re not my captive and you’re free to leave at any time; but you have a choice to make.”
A momentary burst of intelligence returned to me, the meaning of his words sinking heavily on my shoulders. He wasn’t doing this to be kind; he hadn’t offered his home without strings. He wanted a puppet, a whore to do with as he pleased and one that he had no intention of keeping. I was here for a purpose implicit to what he desired only. If I didn’t agree, if I stubbornly refused, I’d be cast out in the storm and into the sights of the detective who wanted to put me away.
My options were slim, be a slave to one man or a prisoner to another. Live whatever days I had hidden away in luxury or sit behind bars. There wasn’t a choice at all. Once again he was being ‘truthful’ while at the same time lying just enough to manipulate my decision. He was letting me think it was my choice to acquiesce, but in reality, he was expertly steering me into not resisting his demands.
But what actual choice did I have? I was effectively trapped. My real choice was now whether to fight against him… or to surrender.
I was so close to accepting his control; so close to saying yes and allowing this man to possess me, to own me, but then a thought brushed across my mind that made my skin prickle with the distrust that was tearing me apart inside.
“What happened to Mary Beth? How can she be dead if she was screaming in your fucking gauntlet last night?”
Bravery forced the words from my mouth, but common sense came along quickly behind it to let me know I’d have been better off remaining silent.
Releasing me from his hold, he stood up, looking down at me for a few seconds before turning to walk towards the door. When he reached it and pulled it open from the frame, he didn’t bother looking back when he said, “You’ve made your choice. Take your things and leave my house.”
And then he was gone, the door to my bedroom left slightly ajar, just enough for me to listen to the sound of his steps as they disappeared down the hall.
Terror enveloped me, driving itself through my veins and over my nerves, my muscles contracting to a point of pain to realize that I would soon face jail for crimes I never committed. I was alone utterly and completely. I had nowhere to run, no family or friends who could hide me, no home where I could hide myself.
He’d abandoned me and I was suddenly crushed under the weight of the impossible nature of the situation.
“Lucas!” My voice was cut off and my lungs felt like they were paralyzed. It was all one big nightmare where you try to scream, but can’t.
“Lucas!” My body doubled over and my hands balled into fists so tight that my fingernails tore into the skin. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t walk out there to become a fugitive or a prisoner. I was struggling with my ability to control my own fate by making a decision that would take that control away from me.
But it was better than the other option.
“LUCAS!”
Jumping up from the bed, I tore across the room and out the door. When I’d run the length of the hall and reached the landing, I looked out over the house in search of the only man who could even remotely help me. He was nowhere to be found and I flew down the steps, tripping over my own feet with as fast as I ran.
He wasn’t in the library, or the kitchen or the fucking entertainment room and I checked the last place I knew where to find him.
Throwing open the door to his office, my eyes were met with the perfection of his body standing in the center of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. Rage flashed behind his eyes and he said nothing as I crept forward, scared and absolutely helpless.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, all of my strength gone now that I understood there was nowhere left to turn.
“I’m sorry.” My voice shook with my quivering lip. “Please – please forgive me. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t want to go. I can’t go to jail. I need time to figure out what is happening to me.”
I looked up at him, desperate for him to tell me I could stay, desperate for him to acknowledge that he was no longer demanding for me to leave. His expression was blank, his jaw was flexing from how he clenched his teeth. When moments had passed and, still, he’d said nothing, I surrendered finally, the fight having left me when I hit rock bottom.
I didn’t want to say the words, but, as usual, I had no choice.
“I’m sorry, Master. Please. Don’t make me leave.”
Lucas
And there it was, the moment when she finally succumbed and the moment when her will had been crushed so thoroughly that she had no other option, but to submit. It was manipulation through coercion rather than physical force. It was the tactic used by the intelligent sadist; the one that no one saw coming. I’d taken this beautiful girl, with her stubborn mind and sharp tongue, and guided her into a corner where being used was her best choice. She believed I was doing her a favor, because I was the only person who could.
Finally, I had her. She was the most difficult of all the muses I’d had. She’d fought tooth and fucking nail until she’d reached a point where there was no other option that she was willing to consider.
She’d allowed me to quietly stalk her, to encase her in a false sense of security only to rip her apart from everything and everybody in her life. She fought, yet she still surrendered so easily. I’d warned her. I’d given her books that told her exactly what I would do, and still … she never saw it coming.
Like the men I researched, the people whose stories I slowly pulled apart, piece by piece, I’d accomplished trapping this poor woman in a situation where she had no control whatsoever. It was a place where I could say what I want, DO what I want and she’d never do anything to stop it. It hadn’t taken violence. I’d snuck up silently and without warning.
But those are the most dangerous types of predators. They were the men who could get away with their crimes because nobody ever suspected. Nobody remembered an odd remark, nobody could think of a moment when the person had acted strangely. They were the type that were so adept at their crimes that they never had to fear being caught.
I’d thought I could climb in their minds before. I thought that after reading story after story of the atrocities they’d committed against another person, that I could understand the driving need they had to dominate another person, the calculated and cold anger it would take to abuse another person over a long period of time. But now, having a woman submit fully, to let go of every shred of the fight she had left in her, I realized I never really understood those men at all.
Never before had my muse fought against me. They were always so quick to accept what I demanded of them. This one for mone
y and that one because she thought she could change me, but ultimately and for whatever reason, they let go without a single complaint or argument.
However, now that I finally saw what it was like to have to trap her, to have to manipulate her psyche to a point where she honestly believed she had no other options, I understood the power and the magnificent feeling of control that came with it. It was suddenly overwhelmingly apparent that every other muse had been a pathetic excuse for the real thing.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” There was no warmth to my voice at all. My words lacked any hint of affection or concern. It was a simple question with a simple meaning. Once again, I’d handed her the keys to her freedom, to leave and save herself from the nightmare I was going to create for her.
“Yes.”
And once again, she’d chosen poorly.
She yelped when I gripped my hand into her hair and she cried out when I used her hair to pull her up from the floor. Struggling, she reached up to claw at my hands, desperate to separate from my fingers that were twisting against her scalp. I continued pulling up until we were nose to nose.
“Put your fucking feet down, Autumn. You’ll take the weight off your scalp that way. Save yourself the pain by thinking when you’re being attacked.” Cold and menacing, darkness was being pulled from a place that existed deep inside me. I couldn’t help but tell her what would happen, how to fight it and in the end watch her fall because she allowed her fear – her stupid fucking emotions – to strip from her of any semblance or speck of logic.
It was one thing to look back on abuse and believe it was forced on you – but it was something far darker to look back and see that you’d allowed it, that you’d asked for it to happen. What I did to Autumn went beyond the physical pain I inflicted on her. In ways, I was the worst kind of monster because I’d forced the ultimate humiliation, causing her to hate herself as much as she hated me.
“Ple – please, Master. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me.”
My head cocked to the side as I studied the way she cowered as soon as pain was introduced into the equation. “Don’t you think you deserve to be punished? You just questioned me like I was some common criminal. You implied that I had something to do with your friend’s disappearance. You only submitted when YOU had something to gain. Don’t you think I realize that? How much more would you like to question my intelligence? You won’t like the result; however, I guarantee you, I’ll thoroughly enjoy the consequences.”