I hold onto the door as the armoire tilts and gravity takes over as it falls to the floor with a loud crash. My hand on the door slips, and it smacks my arm as it falls. Fuck! That hurt like a bitch. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise. I almost kick the damn thing in my rage, but that’d be worthless.
Instead I grip it and pull, trying to break it off. I’m tearing this fucking door off, and then I’m smashing through the door to the bedroom keeping me prisoner. I’ll fucking break my way out of here.
“What the fuck!” The door slams open and Kade stares back at me with a look of contempt.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he sneers at me. My chest heaves. I don’t know. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, but it doesn’t matter. It was my choice. And I'll do whatever I want.
He stalks toward me and I grab a piece of the drawer that broke off. I point the jagged edge at him. He wants to tame me, break me, fuck me… well then he’s going to have to fight me first.
“What are you going to do with that, angel?” His dark voice sends a warning that makes my breathing come in frantic pants. I ignore the pulsing desire deep in my core.
I can see him overpowering me, ripping my weapon from my hand and making me pay for disobeying him. But he just punished me last time. Tears prick my eyes and my throat closes as a lump grows. I don't want this. I don't want any of this. This is some fucked up twisted mix of a nightmare and fantasy.
Kade pauses on his way to me, sensing my anger starting to wane. He holds his hand up like he’s approaching a wounded animal. And maybe that’s what I am. But he made me this way. It’s his fault. I fucking hate him.
“Olivia, put it down.” No fucking way. I shake my head and hold up the board with my trembling hand. I try to steady it, but I can’t.
The reality of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m fucking dead. I can't fight him. Even with this board, I don't stand a chance. But at least I'm trying.
I shake my head again and the second I blink away the tears, he’s on me. I scream as his body slams against mine and he pushes me down onto the rug. He grabs the board before I can do anything and pulls it from me.
I thrash under him, but his weight is too heavy. He cages me in, leaning his chest against mine.
“Shh, it’s alright. Calm down.” He whispers comforting words into my ear. His hand rubs along my hip and up my side then back down in soothing strokes. His lips barely touch my neck with his head safely nestled in the crook of my neck. The position also forces me still, unable to move much at all.
Minutes pass. My racing heart starts to slow, and the adrenaline rushing in my blood begins to melt away. I lie still under him, not knowing what he’s going to do next.
“You shouldn’t have done that, angel,” he says after a long while. His hand steadies on my hip.
“I’m sorry.” The words slip past my lips instinctively. Am I sorry? No, I’m not sorry. Not right now. I don’t know what the consequences will be, but right now, I’m not sorry.
“Did you really think having a tantrum was going to help you at all?” He tsks in my ear.
He slowly rises, pinning my wrists down at my side. It’s only then do I feel his raging erection against my hip. My eyes widen, and I force myself to look anywhere but at him.
I can’t breathe.
“Get on your knees, angel.” I shake my head, but I’m not given any choice. He flips me over and splays his hand on my shoulders, leaving me prostrate and completely vulnerable to him.
My breathing comes in ragged pants. “This would hurt to spank you with, angel,” he says as he places a piece of the broken armoire against my bare ass. I hold my breath waiting for the blow. But nothing comes.
“You’ve already hurt yourself with your display of disobedience, haven’t you?” His fingers gently touch my arm and I wince. I can’t see, but I’d be damned if there isn’t already a bruise there.
His fingers run along my spine and down to my ass. He leans down and plants a tender kiss on my neck. “I understand, angel. I do. But you can’t behave this way.” My pussy heats, and my back bows. I instantly regret it, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Shame replaces my arousal. He places another sweet kiss on the nape of my neck this time, pushing my hair out of his way.
“I can’t allow it,” he says with a deep voice laced with regret.
Smack! His hand comes down hard on my ass. Smack! The pain shoots through my body. It's a sharp, stinging pain. My skin reddens with his repeated blows until I’m crying hysterically into the rug.
My ass and thighs sting. My eyes are swollen with tears. “Shh,” he tries to comfort me, leaning down to kiss me again, but I pull away. I hate him. I hate him with everything in me.
“Now now, angel, you knew this would happen. Didn’t you?”
I hate how he makes it seem like it was my fault. How could anyone blame me for trying to get out of here? I don’t want this.
“I told you, you need to be good for me.” I bite my tongue to keep myself from telling him to fuck off. I don’t want any more punishment. He leans down to comfort me again with his hand still on my stinging ass, and again I move away from him.
“Let me comfort you, angel.” No, fuck that. He hurt me, I won’t seek shelter from him. No matter how much I want it. He pulls me into his arms and although I don’t fight back, I don’t lean into him either.
My ass burns as he moves me closer to him. I try not to whimper and hold it in. I won't let him see how much it hurts.
“I don’t want to hurt you, angel.” I hate that he keeps saying that. If he didn't want to hurt me, then he wouldn't. It's as simple as that.
“I wanted to keep you to myself, but now you’ve given me no choice.” My heart rate picks up. “I don’t have much time, and it’s obvious you’re going to fight me.”
I risk a glance back at him as he says, “I’m sorry, angel.” I don’t believe him for one second. I know the sympathy and compassion in his eyes are complete bullshit. “I didn’t want this for you.” He’s a liar.
Tears roll down my cheeks and I don’t even bother to brush them away. He lays a hand on my cheek and I hate that it brings me warmth. “Please,” I beg him again, “just let me go.”
“If only you knew.” I turn away from him, hating how he’s acting like this is out of his control.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “I’m taking you to a place where you won’t get away with this. You’ll be running to me to keep you safe.”
My body chills at his words.
“I won’t let them hurt you.” I look deep into his eyes and some naïve part of me believes him.
“But you won’t get away with this shit over there.”
Kade
I lock the doors on the car and think about checking the trunk. It’s been quiet, but I don’t trust her being quiet. It’s been five hours. I drove straight through the entire time. I’m sure she needs to relieve herself and stretch. But maybe she’s quiet because she’s asleep. I fucking hope that’s it. She’s going to need to be well-rested so she can take this in.
I remember the way she struggled in my arms trying to get her back in the trunk. I’m a sick fuck, but feeling her naked body writhing against me made me want to overpower her even more.
I thought about just letting her go. Leaving the door open and letting her leave.
But they’d just give me someone else at this point.
The meet is coming up fast. He needs to trust me, and this is how that'll happen.
I need this to work. There’s no turning back.
And they gave me her.
I have to will away the image of me punishing her. Fuck, I groan and lean my head back. I still can't believe what I wanted to do to her.
I’m on the edge of unleashing a side of me that I don’t want others to see. A depraved part of me I'm scared to unleash.
When she opens that smart mouth of hers I want so badly to put it to good use.
Last night was a turning point fo
r me, with her acting out and the constant disobedience. On one hand, I understand it; I respect it even. On the other, I want to spank her ass raw and then give her what she really needs. What we both need.
I didn’t used to be a bad man. I’m not sure at what point that changed for me. But seeing her look up at me with heated desire in her eyes and continuing to push me, knowing she was going to be punished begs me to release a beast inside of me that’s clawing to get to her.
I stare up at Gabriel's mansion and admire its beauty. The intricately carved columns and flagstone pathways grace his home. It’s luxurious outside, and even more lavish inside. But it’s a house of pure sin and decadence of every sort. My dick starts hardening as I walk up the steps.
My handler, Gates, keeps saying I’m in too deep. He’s threatened to pull me twice. I’ve never once thought he was right until I started thinking about my relationship with Gabriel Durand, a French entrepreneur who brought his expertise here stateside.
He owns this place, and runs it and the illicit parties that occur inside. He doesn’t deal in women, but he keeps them. Not for him, but for others. It’s not just a brothel, it’s something much more. Dirtier and dark. This mansion is a place of pure sin.
I remember the first time I came here, to see how the women were trained. Men and women bring their own pets, or they come and pay for their choice.
Olivia needs to see what’s expected of her. This is only going to help her to learn faster. I want to see how she reacts. I want to know what she really thinks of this.
If she’s terrified and still fighting, I’m fucked. I won’t do it. I can’t do this to her. I’ll have to find some excuse and get her the fuck out of here. I can at least save her.
But there’s a chance she'll react like other women have here. I’ve seen the way Gabriel handles them. She could do that for me. I hope she enjoys it. I hope it turns her on. If the desire in her eyes is any indication, this will make the transition easy for her. The idea of her willing to be my pet should make me relieved. It would mean this will be easier and I can move forward with my mission.
Instead it makes me hard as fuck. I’m practically leaking in my pants at the thought of her on her knees and at my mercy.
I close my eyes and will the images away.
This is a mission. I need to stay focused. This isn’t about any twisted fantasy I have. This isn’t about either one of us.
I’ll be quick and make the necessary arrangements so I can begin her training as soon as possible.
I walk quickly up the steps and bang on the hard, maple doors with the cast iron knocker. There’s a doorbell, but I never use it. I prefer the feel of the knocker. The raw metal and hard bang remind me of that first night that I spent here when I was doing my research.
The door opens and a short woman with smooth, milky skin answers. Her long, straight blonde hair is pulled into a tight ponytail. Her clear blue eyes shine out with happiness once she registers me.
Her soft voice is just barely audible as she bows her head slightly and moves to the side for me to enter as she respectfully greets, “Good to see you, Master K.” I gently set my hand down on her shoulder and step inside.
“You look lovely, Talia.” She’s in a floor-length silk charmeuse navy dress. It’s loose on her. And no doubt will be taken off once evening approaches and the nighttime festivities start.
Talia is different from the others; she belongs to Gabriel. She is his most prized possession.
“Is your Master home, Talia?” I ask as she closes the door.
“Yes, Master K,” she answers obediently. She raises her head and gestures gracefully with her hand to the right. “May I?” she asks.
The foyer is large with textured walls the color of soft cream, and sconces that give an Old World feel. The curved stairway has a cast iron railing that contrasts with the pale gray and white marbled floors. In the very center is an ancient table, and above it hangs a large crystal chandelier.
Decadence at its finest.
“Lead the way.”
Talia’s been with Gabriel for nearly a decade now. She didn’t come here willingly like the other women. I often watch her and Gabriel. She is his esclave, French for slave. At first I was pissed to hear him call her a slave constantly. It took me a long time to realize it, but to the two of them it means something else, something more.
Our steps echo off the floors. It seems empty, but I know there are others here. This place is never empty, and at night it truly comes alive.
“Are you well?” I ask her as she leads me to a room I’ve been in before many times. Gabriel’s office is just as spacious as every other room in his home. It smells of wood oil and cigars. The room appears dark due to the rich mahogany furniture and deep red handwoven rug that covers most of the floor. But the thick curtains in front of the windows are also drawn, heightening the effect.
A faint blushes rises to her cheeks. “I am. And you?” she asks.
“You’ve brought me an unexpected guest, esclave.” Gabriel stands from behind his desk and smiles wide at me.
Talia waits patiently by the door with her head bowed, and her hands clasped as he walks over to me.
Gabriel’s a tall man. He's not muscular, but toned--it means he's not an obvious threat, but he's still lethal. He’s ruthless in business. And he makes everything his business. I came here first when I went undercover. I had to become part of the scene, and that meant being talked about.
Talking is what Gabriel does best.
His dark hair is slicked back, and his brilliant smile is just as white as his crisp button-down shirt.
He gives me a quick hug along with a hard pat on the back. “I’ve been waiting for you to show your face in here again.”
I never know how he’s able to suck me in. No one knows me anymore; I don’t even know who I am. But Gabriel does. He has a way of putting me at ease. It’s a false sense of security, but it feels… thrilling.
A darkness I’ve tried to suppress creeps up on me. I need to contain the person I am when I’m here. For Olivia.
He lets a short, throaty laugh out from his chest and looks back at his desk.
“Have a seat, my friend.” At first when I met him, I assumed he called all of his guests his friends. I found out very quickly he doesn’t.
“Talia, come.” He takes a seat and waits as Talia lowers herself beside his desk and sits her knees down on a pillow. He puts a hand on her shoulder and rubs soothing circles over her bare skin.
Her eyes close and she relaxes under his touch.
“I have a problem, Gabriel.” I look at Talia as I use Gabriel’s first name. It’s a rule in his mansion that first names aren’t used around pets or slaves. He once told me that for training purposes it’s important they only ever know you as Master. But his favorite pet knows him by all his names. And he seems to give her more and more exceptions every time I see them.
“And does that problem have a woman’s name?” he asks with a humorous glint in his eye.
“She does. Olivia Bell.” Saying her name makes my heart still in my chest. A part of me wants to keep her a secret. To make sure she’s safe. But she’s not. I can’t keep her safe. “I wasn’t prepared for her. And she’s quite…”
“Difficult?” he asks with a smirk. “The best ones always are.” He looks down at Talia and she must feel his eyes on him, because she looks up. She gives him a small smile and rests her cheek on his thigh.
“I need a room, if you have one available.”
“For you? Of course,” he replies. Gabriel’s always willing to lend a hand. But I’m sure he keeps a record of everyone who’s ever owed him anything. I try to lean back in my seat, but I’m too anxious.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I imagine this is going to cost at least 200 grand. Maybe more, depending on how long she takes.
“You’re just in time, too,” Gabriel says. I raise my brows in question. “I’m having a celebration tonight.”
He re
aches down and cups Talia’s chin, giving her a small, chaste kiss before looking back at me.
“You’ve never brought your own before. This should be fun.”
Olivia
I slowly wake, feeling groggier than I did when I passed out in the trunk. And hot. So fucking hot. I try to sit up, but then I realize I’m on the floor. My eyes pop open and adrenaline shoots through me. Memories of yesterday come flooding back. Fuck, no. No. I close my eyes and wish it was a dream. But it’s not. This is real. Was it yesterday? Or two days ago? How long has it been?
I see movement to my left, and I instinctively jump back.
“Now, angel, that’s no way to greet me.” His eyes hold a threat I haven’t seen before.
“Get on your knees.”
His words haunt me. Scenes from yesterday flash before my eyes. I lower myself to my knees slowly and wait. Outside the bedroom I can hear noises. Other people, although I can’t make out what they’re doing. At first I get the inclination to scream for help. But then I realize he brought me here for a reason. Whoever’s outside that door is on his side, not mine.
“You can listen to me,” he says with feigned amusement. Fucking prick.
He holds out a glass of water in front of me. But I’m not a fucking idiot. I’m not drinking that, or eating anything he gives me. I don't know what he might have put in it. “Drink,” he commands with a deep voice that makes me question my resolve.
I take the glass in my hand and hold it, but I can’t bring it to my lips.
He takes the glass from my hands and waits for me to look at him. When I do, he keeps my gaze and takes a sip before handing it back to me. My cheeks burn. I hate that he can read me. Not that anyone in my position wouldn’t be easy to read. I’m an emotional wreck.
“Olivia, I’m trying very hard to make this easy for you. You need to obey me.”
My blood boils with his bullshit. Make this easy on me. My bottom lip trembles, but not from sadness, from anger.
I bring the glass to my lips, but I still don’t drink. I can’t look at him. I can’t look at the glass. I let it fall, and it drops to the ground. The glass doesn’t break, but it spills the water on the floor, splashing my leg.
Broken Page 5
