His gaze swept from her chest to her face and back again. The blanket was now as low as the swell of her breasts. His warm finger traced her skin, dipping between her round globes along the hem of the blanket. She was no more exposed than she would be in a scooped blouse, yet it felt as if she were once again naked.
Dexter lifted her chin until their gazes met. “What will you do to earn your meal?”
Everything within her froze. Her blood forgot to flow.
“Please, Dexter.” She purposely used his name, hoping for the effect from before. “I know that isn’t an answer to your question but I don’t know what I can do.” It was a truthful answer. She didn’t want to offer more than he’d accept, nor did she want to offer less and lose her second chance at a meal.
Again, he traced the scoop of the blanket. “Lower it,” he said. “Keep your breasts exposed for me, and then you may choose one thing from the table.”
She scanned the feast. Sandwiches and salad weren’t by definition a feast, but to her they were. What difference would it make if she removed the blanket? He’d seen her totally nude. She took a breath. With trembling fingers, she reached for the edge of the blanket.
Her eyes focused on the plate. She didn’t want one thing. She wanted it all. “One?”
“Rule number one.”
Natalie nodded. He wouldn’t repeat himself. He’d said one thing.
She wondered if she removed the entire blanket, could she earn more than one item? With a ragged breath, she opened the blanket, leaving it draped over her shoulders with her chest exposed. The cool air made her nipples harden.
A deep murmur resonated from Dexter’s throat. Pushing the material over her shoulders, he left the rest bunched around her waist. “Now touch them.”
Touch them?
In his tone, she heard his meaning. Dexter didn’t want her to just touch them; he wanted her to touch them as she would alone in her darkened bedroom.
Again, she lifted her hands.
His eyes stayed glued to her movement as she kneaded both breasts, pushing them up and twisting her hard nipples until her breasts grew heavy and engorged. As she caressed and teased, it was impossible not to notice that his erection grew, straining against the zipper of his jeans.
How long did he expect this to go on?
Her skin warmed under her own touch and lips parted as she startled herself with a small, unexpected whimper. Was her body’s response from her own ministrations or from the lustful gleam in his blue-green eyes? While his erection scared her, there was more, something new and erotic in what they were doing. A strange tenseness formed between her legs, causing her inside muscles to clench.
Surely, she wasn’t turned on by this man.
Finally, he spoke, his voice weighted with lust. “You’ve earned two things from the table.” He turned and went back to his chair.
Natalie let out the breath she’d been holding.
“What do you choose?” he asked.
“The tea and the sandwich.” She didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink.
Dexter poured water for himself and nodded.
Taking that as his sign, Natalie hurriedly dove in.
Never had anything tasted as delicious. The bread was heavenly, grilled to the perfect crispness. Between the slices, the vegetables were sautéed and pasted together with rich white cheese. With each bite, the flavors exploded in her mouth. The blanket he’d moved off her shoulders, fully exposing her breasts, was forgotten. Chewing and swallowing monopolized her thoughts while the warmth of the mug gave her hands needed heat.
Dexter watched silently as she ate her sandwich and drank her ginger tea. He watched everything, not only her breasts, but also the way she sipped the tea, wiped her lips, even the way she chewed. His gaze was omnipresent. Once the sandwich was gone, he asked, “Wouldn’t you like some water? It wouldn’t be good for you to dehydrate. Besides, there was only one cup of tea.”
Natalie did want water, but she was beginning to understand that everything came with a price.
“May I have water?”
He poured the clear liquid into her glass.
When she didn’t reach for it, he grinned. “Good girl, bug. I was right about you. You’re a quick learner. Are you ready to learn what you must do to earn that water?”
Though dread flooded her veins, the food gave her strength. “Yes.”
“This time, your job is simple. It’s not your body, although you’ll soon offer me more than a view of your tits.”
Offer? Did that mean he wouldn’t take?
Before she could give it much thought, he told her what he wanted. “Your mind.”
Chapter Eleven
It is hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.
~ Sally Kempton
“My mind?” Natalie asked.
“Tell me what I want to know, and you’ll earn water. Tell me enough and I’ll even leave you a bottle. The water from the pipes isn’t fit for consumption. I’d hate for you to get sick.”
But you’ll kidnap, freeze, and starve me to death? Instead of saying that, Natalie nodded.
“Go ahead,” he prompted, “take a sip.”
As she lifted the glass to her lips she remembered his cocktail from the plane. Her hand stalled. “Did you…is this…?”
“Does it contain the drugs I gave you before?”
Her parched lips came together as she silently agreed.
“Will you believe me?”
It was a good question. She shouldn’t. “I don’t know. I suppose I have no choice.”
“Yet you’d ask. You hesitated. Why?”
She did as he said, answering honestly and not overthinking her response. “Because I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way it made me feel.”
Dexter nodded. “That water isn’t drugged. Go ahead and take a drink.”
Obeying, she was rewarded with a clear, clean, and refreshing drink. Each swallow lubricated her tongue and throat in a way the tea hadn’t. How long had it been since she’d had water? She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, and then there were the hours spent on the floor.
Natalie didn’t want to stop drinking. Dexter had said one drink. Perhaps if she never stopped swallowing, it would still be one. Her mind told her to put the glass down, but she couldn’t. It tasted too good. Now that her body had food, this was the other element to life.
The realization hit her: no matter how strange her life had become, she wanted life. She wanted to live.
Finally, she put the empty glass down, scared to look across the table at what she might see. Instead of anger, Dexter’s laugh echoed throughout the small room. “My bug was thirsty. Now then, I allowed you your reward before you did your part. It’s time. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“What I’m thinking?”
He moved his head back and forth. “If I wanted a parrot, I would have taken one. I took you, a thinking, breathing, sexy, smart woman. I took you, bug. You’re now mine. Tell me how you feel. How…” He gestured about the white room. “…this makes you feel and your thoughts from the time you woke until now.”
It was a tall order. Exposing her breasts was easier than her thoughts.
Don’t overthink. That was what he’d told her.
“I’m scared.”
“Go on.”
“I was hungry. That’s better.” She looked around the room, suddenly realizing it resembled the images she’d conjured in her mind about foreign mental institutions. She wasn’t the one who was crazy. No. That person was sitting across the table from her, his arms folded over his wide chest, assessing her and her exposed breasts. “I’m embarrassed and quite honestly, humiliated.”
“Why?”
She fidgeted with the blanket on her lap. “I’m sitting here without a top. It should be rather obvious.”
“You’re mine. I’m keeping you. That means every part of you, bug. There’s nothing that should embarrass you. Baring yourself to me shouldn’t be e
mbarrassing.”
“But it is,” she answered too quickly. “I don’t know you, and regardless of what you say, I don’t belong to you. I’m not your bug.” She shook her head. “I really hate that, too. It’s patronizing.”
His blue-green eyes lightened with amusement. “Well, that won’t stop. I like it. And as I told you, you’ll earn your name back.”
Earn. Why was everything earned?
“Now tell me,” he went on, “what proof do you need to understand that you do belong to me, that you are mine? Would a bill of sale make it better? A contract? I can have one drawn up, but essentially a marriage license is the same thing. The one we have now isn’t real. But one day.”
When she didn’t respond, he continued, “How about my intimate knowledge of your sexy body? Will that prove that you’re mine? For example, the way your pussy clenches even when you’re unconscious?”
Natalie gasped, squeezing her legs together. “Did you…?”
“Did I…what? Fuck you?”
She didn’t respond as tears filled her eyes. If only she could cover all of her with the blanket, her face and her head, and of course, her breasts.
“No,” Dexter answered, “I didn’t. I want the first time that I’m inside you to be something we both remember. As much as I wanted to…” He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “…and I still want to—I didn’t.”
A lone tear trickled down her cheek. “Thank you.”
More gratitude for things that should never be gifts: a blanket, food, and her purity. And then she remembered his words. “But you said you know how…how I clench?”
“One taste. I’m a man and you’re a beautiful woman. One day you’ll want me to taste you, to bury my face in your cunt until you scream my name. It was only one taste.”
Her head fell forward as more tears flowed.
“Bug?”
Her head snapped up. “Violated!”
Dexter’s gaze darkened. “I didn’t violate you.”
“You asked me how I feel. There, that’s it. Violated.”
“You were not. I could have. You were right there.” His large hand slapped the table. Plates and glasses jumped as silverware clanked and water sloshed. His expression hardened. “I could do it right now. Who’s going to stop me? Not you. Not anyone.
“You need to get that through your head. You’re now mine to do with as I want. Even knowing that you’re mine—at my disposal at any time—I respected you enough to remove your clothes, taste your lips, kiss your soft skin, and yes, take one small taste of your warm pussy.
“Do you know what you did?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to know. The meal she’d eaten along with the tea and water were churning faster by the second. “No.”
“You instantly became wet. Did I want to be inside you with my fingers, tongue, or cock? Yes, but I didn’t. I’m not sure what other assholes you’ve been with, but when I do those things, it’ll be with your consent and for your pleasure.”
Her neck straightened. “None.” She wasn’t sure why she’d told him—why it slipped out—but she had, and she couldn’t take it back.
“None,” Dexter repeated her word slowly as the realization hit him. “None, no one?”
She shook her head.
“You’ve never been with a man?” He stood, the astonishment overtaking his whole demeanor. “Answer me, damn it.”
“No! No assholes in my past, no good guys either.” You’re the only asshole.
Dexter ran his hand over his face and paced a small circle. “Fuck. Fuck.” He turned her way. “No, you’re lying. You’re twenty years old. High school…college?”
“So because I never slept with a man, there’s something wrong? Fine, there is. And I want to keep it that way.” Tired of this discussion, she pulled the blanket back over her shoulders and tucked it around her chin, covering her breasts. “I’m not lying. I’m also done with the sandwich. Leave the water, if I’ve given you what you wanted or if you’ve taken it. If you’re not satisfied, don’t leave it. Whatever. I’m done.”
He yanked her to her feet, holding her shoulders at arm’s length. “You’re not in a position to dismiss me—ever. We’re done when I say we’re done.” His eyes were now the deepest ocean depth. “Do not fucking lie. Are you a virgin?”
She lifted her chin. “I was when I woke yesterday.”
“One fucking taste, a kiss to your sweet, wet lips. I didn’t…how the fuck would I know?”
Indignation rang as her volume increased. “I don’t know, you could have asked or let me tell you. There are more possibilities than drugging and kidnapping me!”
She didn’t see his hand until it was too late. Her cheek stung as tears filled her eyes.
Dexter took a step back. “Don’t make me do that again.”
Make him? What could she possibly say? He’d just hit her, actually slapped her.
Dexter’s tone hardened. “Respect. I gave it to you by not fucking you when I could—which includes right now, too. You give it to me. That was your last outburst. The next one will be met with a harsher reply.”
Harsher than a slap?
She straightened her shoulders, ignoring the tears flowing down her cheeks. “Yes. I’m a virgin. And if you want the money my father will pay to get me back, you’ll return me to him that way.”
Dexter took another step back, increasing the distance between them and rubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin. “You have this all wrong. I’m not holding you for ransom. Not everyone is after your daddy’s money. I have plenty of my own.
“You’re here for one reason: because you’re mine. We’re meant to be together. I’m not returning you.” He turned a small circle. The muscles in his neck tensed as his jaw clenched. “Now, bug, we’re done. Drop the blanket.”
Her eyes widened.
He tilted his head toward the floor, the spot where she’d knelt. “Stand in position—unless you’d rather kneel.” His blue-green eyes shone her way, daring her to disobey.
With her heart beating faster, she dropped the blanket and made her way to where he’d pointed. Biting her lip, she did as he’d said: feet, shoulder-distance apart, shoulders back, arms at her side, palms out, and lastly, chin up. The cold chill returned, tracking up her body from the hard floor all the way to her scalp.
As if she were no longer there, Dexter worked, putting the food back on the cart as well as the table and chairs. Once the room was clear, he turned. His gaze moved up her body, lingering momentarily on her pussy and then her breasts. When their eyes met, he said, “A virgin.” He shook his head. “I guess I do know how to pick them.”
Natalie momentarily closed her eyes.
“I’ll leave the blanket and the rest of the water. Don’t move until the door is shut. When I return be exactly as you are now. For the rest of the day, my two rules are simple. First, no touching or pleasuring yourself. Don’t think that you can in the bathroom. There’s a camera in there too. And do not bathe. We’ll discuss that on my next visit.”
He walked closer until the musk of his cologne filled her senses and the warmth radiating from his chest rippled over her bare skin. “Tell me, have you? Touched yourself? Made yourself come?”
Heat sparked in her cheeks. Not only there, a flicker of flame heated her core with an embarrassing rush of warmth.
“Please, Dexter.”
His grin grew. “Oh, you have. I can tell. It’s permissible to think about it. Think about how much better it will be with a man, one who knows how to please you.” His knuckle caressed her jaw. “That’s it, bug, imagine. Just do not touch.” He stepped back. “Can you behave?”
“Yes.”
“For the record, I said you should never feel embarrassed, and I meant it. I’m glad to know you’ve touched yourself. I can tell the idea turns you on. Your cheeks are pink and I smell your arousal.” He laughed. “What I didn’t say is that I wouldn’t humiliate you. I will. Because I enjoy it. I’ll also exalt
you. You can plan on me doing both. Just remember, it’ll only be me who’ll debase you, only I’ll see you broken, because only I can put you back together.
“You’re my bug, but more importantly, you’re also my queen. No one else will ever see or know what we do alone.”
Her breathing deepened at his statement. It wasn’t a threat, but a promise.
And then he was gone.
Natalie’s shoulders relaxed as the door shut. She rushed to the blanket lying on the floor.
The man was certifiably nuts. And how dare he tell her not to touch herself? She hadn’t planned on it. But now, the seed was planted…
Chapter Twelve
Once you consent to some concession, you can never cancel it and put things back the way they are.
~ Howard Hughes
Days lost meaning as time passed into weeks. If Natalie were a missing person, she hadn’t heard. She hadn’t heard anything about anything, except from Dexter.
She’d boarded the plane in Boston on a Friday in mid-December. It had been before Christmas and her sister’s birthday. She’d tried to keep track of time, but days and nights intertwined. Sometimes when Dexter arrived with breakfast, it was still dark through the small window. Some days it never seemed to get fully light. Other times, their day would end, and the light would persist.
After a few days, she earned artificial lighting. At first, she hadn’t seen the source. It was a rope-type light hidden high above in the seam between the wall and ceiling that only Dexter could control. Though the room was still stark, the light helped her spirit.
Everything in Natalie’s life came with a price, the value determined by Dexter. Whether it was towels for the bathroom, washcloths, soft sheets, or even a pillow for the bed, only he could assign their worth. Sometimes it was an act of submission or obedience. Other times, a thought or a feeling, verbally shared. Sometimes it was memories. Every question asked must receive a truthful answer. Recalling memories was the most difficult and emotionally taxing. The bigger the sacrifice, the greater the reward.
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