Came for her.
The crazy mix of possessiveness and protectiveness he felt surge through him at that thought shook him, surprising him with the power of it.
“No time to get attached, Lake,” he murmured against the heel of his hand. “You know what needs to be done about that, don’t you?”
He checked the locks at the front and back doors, cursing as he dashed his hip against the counter in the dark kitchen. He stood outside her room, asking himself the question once more, silently cursing the fact he didn’t have a plan for this, for the vexing young lady currently in his custody.
He left her door closed.
As he curled up on the couch, a blanket retrieved from the closet wrapped around him, two possible paths became clear — one that filled him with dark anticipation, and one that he knew was right.
Before he could decide which to follow, he slipped off to sleep.
* * *
A faint light had begun to bleed into the room, the dawn still an hour or so away. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed against the morning chill. She’d kicked the blanket down to her waist in the night, and he could see the sheen of sweat at the hollow of her throat. Letting her sleep in her clothes wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.
Her blouse had bunched underneath her, pulling up in front, baring her belly, the dark well of her umbilicus. Her hair was a wild spray of black curls, a lock of it lying across her cheek. He stepped to the bed, taking a moment to look down the length of her lithe body, then inserting the key into each cuff. He pulled her wrists free, the cuffs clanging against the wrought iron of the headboard posts. He knew her shoulders were probably sore from being bound this way, but he needed to be sure she didn’t try anything while he slept. She was smart and resourceful, along with being stubborn and disobedient.
He brushed the lock of hair from her cheek, feeling the silky curl between his fingertips. Her lips were parted, allowing a glimpse of those perfect white teeth. For a moment, he just stood there, listening to her breathe, feeling again how much he missed that quiet, soft sound. One of the million things he’d lost when he’d lost his wife, when he’d lost the last reason to do what was right.
Lily turned away, the soft pink of her lips moving in an unintelligible murmur, her legs curling up as she tucked her newly freed arms in front of her. The position emphasized the flare of her hips in those tight jeans, the shape of that heart-shaped ass already making his cock stir once more.
Down, boy.
He needed to check her. He trusted her father even less than he trusted Randall. It might already be too late. The idea of doing it while she still slept should have been less appealing than it really was, but instead he had another idea. Another lesson that could be taught.
He patted the curve of her jeans-clad bottom.
“Time to get up, Lily. Got a long day ahead of us.”
The growl she made was half-irritated and half-plaintive.
“Come on, let’s go.” He took hold of her hip, shaking her. “Up.”
Her groan made him smile, biting his lip to submerge it.
“My arms are … killing me.” She rolled back over, facing him, eyes half open, her hands squeezing the muscles of her upper arms. “Why’d you cuff me?”
“Can’t have you wandering off, can we?” Lake kicked a boot against the side of the mattress. “Get out of bed. You’re getting a shower — but there’s something we take care of first.”
“Shower?” Her voice perked, and her eyes opened fully. “You have water here?”
“This isn’t a cave, Ms. Cross, despite what you may think of me.” He bent over the bed, grasping her by the arms and pulling on them. “On your feet.”
She stood, stretching, arms high. The blouse pulled up once more, and he watched the muscles of her tight belly flex, saw the way her breasts rose as she groaned the morning stiffness from her body.
“What do we need to do?” She fixed those brown eyes upon him as she rubbed her forearms, shivering. “This place is freezing.”
“We don’t need to do anything, but you need to strip those clothes off.”
She laughed, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. “Must be sleepy, still.”
“You heard me.” He crossed his arms, leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb once more. “Clothes off.”
“Clothes… what?” She swallowed, her delicate little throat working. “Why?”
“Just do it.” He lowered his voice. “Remember the discussion we had? About doing what you’re told?”
“That didn’t involve taking my clothes off in front of you.”
“It does now, Ms. Cross.”
“You’re fucking… no. Wait outside.” She pointed toward the doorway, her slim finger trembling. “Please.”
“No.”
She made a frustrated sound, pulling down on the front of her blouse to hide her bare belly. “Let me go in the bathroom then, I’ll hand you my clothes.”
“No.”
“Why not?” She backed up a step, deeper into the room, hugging herself.
“Defeats the purpose of checking you for a wire if I can’t see you without your clothes, doesn’t it?”
“What? Wire?” Her jaw clenched. “I’m not wearing a fucking wire… are you crazy? You kidnapped me. Why would I be wearing a wire?”
Lake shrugged. “You’ve proven so far that I can’t trust you. And I’d be a goddamned idiot to trust your dad any farther than I could throw him. So I don’t have a choice.”
“Lake, I’m not. Seriously, this is… please.”
“The sooner you take off those clothes, the sooner you get that shower.” He crossed one ankle over the other, enjoying her distress more than he’d imagined. “We’ve got all day, Ms. Cross.”
“I can’t…” Her eyes widened, her crestfallen expression almost bringing a smile to his face once more.
“You can, Ms. Cross — because you don’t have any choice. Either you take off your clothes, or I’ll take them off for you.”
“Wait,” she said, taking another step back. Lake followed, maintaining the distance. “You — you already saw me when”—her olive skin flamed with a blush—”when you, you know.”
“When I spanked you?” He smiled, shaking his head slowly. “I didn’t see nearly enough, Ms. Cross. A wire can be tiny. God knows, I’ve rigged up enough of them in my life. Clothes. Off.”
“You fucking prick.”
“Maybe you need to go into that shower with a freshly whipped ass, too? I’m starting to think our meeting of the minds in the truck didn’t really get through to you.” He took another toward her, the floorboard creaking under his boot.
“No!” Her fingers worked at the buttons of her blouse. “I-I’m sorry. Please. Turn around or something? Do you have to watch?”
“Yes, I do. Stop stalling and get on with it.”
He didn’t, of course, but they both knew this was about a lot more than merely checking for a wire. She had a lot to learn and this was merely the first lesson. As he watched her eyes dart up to his, then slide away, her blush burning bright again, her true predicament was starting to dawn on her. This was really happening, and she was in no position to demand, or bargain.
Begging might get her somewhere though.
His cock was hard and throbbing by the time her fingers reached the last button, her chest rising in a deep, shaky breath. She looked up at him, tears welling in her brown eyes.
“Lake, please.”
“Off, Ms. Cross. All of it.” He took another step closer, clenching his jaw.
Her shoulders shuddered as she shrugged each arm out, letting the blouse fall to her feet. The lace of her bra matched the thong he’d seen in the truck, and for a moment he fought the urge to run a fingertip over the fabric, tease the tops of her breasts.
“Now the bra.”
Her breath came fast, her breasts jiggling in the clutch of the black lace. Her dark hair drooped, hiding her face as she reached behind and unh
ooked the bra. It loosened and hung upon her bosom for a moment, a slight twist of her shoulders sending it tumbling, her hands instantly covering her breasts. She met his gaze, the defiance warring with her embarrassment.
“See? No wire.”
“You aren’t done. Get the rest of it off. I’m not going to tell you again, Ms. Cross.”
“I-I can’t do this.” She looked down, shaking her head.
When he stepped closer to her, she froze, her whole body trembling even as she appeared to hold her breath. He was a mere foot away, and he could feel the heat of her body, the feminine scent of her mixed with her fear… and something else.
You’re kidding yourself, Lake. She’d kick you in the nuts the first chance she got.
He traced a finger along her shoulder, stroking the silky skin at the hollow of her collarbone.
“Let’s get this over with, Lily. It’ll be quick.”
She met his eyes then, confusion in those deep brown depths. It was a confusion he felt himself, twisting within him, unbalancing him. This was as new for him as it was for her.
You can’t allow that, Lake. She’ll use it against you, and you know it.
He stepped away, crossing his arms and giving her a harsh jerk of his chin toward the floor.
“Bastard,” she said under her breath, working at the buttons of her jeans with one hand, the other arm crossed over her breasts.
“That smart mouth’s going to cost you, Ms. Cross. But we’ll take care of that later.” He tilted his head. “First things first.”
He let her wriggle herself out of those tight jeans with one hand, enjoying the sinuous movement of her hips as she struggled at the task.
“Don’t forget the panties too.”
“I hate you.”
“I’m going to keep you alive, regardless. Stop stalling and get them off.”
He was impatient to see her in all her glory, the fine view of her ass still fresh in his mind. That she was a beauty was something he’d known from seeing her pictures, her dark hair and dusky skin set off with those big brown eyes. But having her here, alone, it had an effect on him he hadn’t ever expected. She had such a will, a fiery spirit, and despite how much it aggravated him, that will only enhanced her beauty.
Having her here showed him something else though, a dark realization that filled him with anticipation, and — if he were brutally honest — a possessive, even sadistic, lust. He had an idea that he’d like to subjugate that will, bend it to his purposes, teach her to do what she was told. Taming that spirit — but not extinguishing it — held an appeal he couldn’t quite articulate.
But he knew he’d like it. He’d like it very much indeed.
Her hand paused at the lace of her thong, her smooth thighs trembling ever so slightly. Lake felt a lump in his throat as he waited, not sure if she’d actually do it. Hoping she would — and hoping she wouldn’t.
She hid behind the dark veil of her hair as she skimmed the thong down her legs, stepping out of it. For a moment, she stayed that way, crouched down, trying to protect the shred of modesty she had left, delaying the inevitable.
“I told you,” she said, her voice soft. “No wire. Now let me get in the shower. Please.”
“Stand up straight, Ms. Cross.”
Rising, her eyes flashed, her delicate jaw clenching. One arm crossed over her breasts, her other hand covering her sex.
“You don’t have to do this.” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “Why are you doing this? You know I don’t have a wire, Lake.”
“I’m doing this because I can’t trust you, and because you need to learn how to do as you’re told. Apparently, getting your ass tanned wasn’t enough of a reminder for you.” Lake shrugged. “That’s fine. Plenty of other ways for me to get through to you. I’ll keep trying them until I find one that works.”
“I don’t—”
“Keep that smart mouth shut.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “We could’ve gotten this done by now if you’d simply lowered your hands, but you had to push it. Every time you delay, every time you disobey, you’ll regret it. Now, put your hands behind your head, and stand up straight.”
“You… I can’t.”
“You can, and you will. Do I need to bind them behind your back? Do you want to try to wash yourself without the use of your hands?”
“No!” She dropped her head, taking a deep breath. “I’ll… I’ll do it. Fuck.”
He had to suppress a smile as he watched her reluctantly rise to her full height, her movement almost slow motion. Then with a small, defeated sound, she brought her hands up to her head, her chin raised, mortification, defiance, and something indefinable warring within her gaze. Her lower lip quivered, and she clamped her teeth down upon it.
Taking a moment to look her over, he wished that time might slow, allow him to take it all in at his leisure. Her breasts weren’t large, but rather were proportional to her slight frame, firm and high. The dark nipples had tightened into hard points, whether from mortification or something else, he couldn’t tell.
He hoped it was both.
Her belly was tight and smooth, just like the rest of her, and he wondered what she did to keep that fit. Her overall physique suggested yoga, but then those strong thighs and round bubble butt made him think gymnast or some other sort of athlete. She was almost too trim though, the slight jut of her hip bones twin counterpoints to the deep navel, the smooth, elegant muscles of her belly. He wondered if she trained her body almost to the breaking point, relentless, uncompromising, to that pure state where there was only the exertion, her breathing, the pleasant fatigue of those muscles. More of that spirit that drew him to her, despite the surreal circumstances.
“We wouldn’t have to do this if you’d listened. Remember that, Ms. Cross, next time you feel like you should be running the show here.” He made sure he’d caught her gaze, before lowering his eyes to her bared sex. She kept it entirely smooth, the labia, like her bottom, surprisingly fleshy for one so slight, the lips of her sex closed in a tight seam that he wanted to tease with a fingertip, easing it between those folds to test that slippery heat.
Though he had no idea why, he knew she would be wet — despite the vitriol of her words, and the angry flash of her eyes. His cock wasn’t the only thing at attention here.
“Are we done? Let me go, Lake.”
“Turn around,” he said, making the motion with an extended finger.
“Lake…”
He gave her an arch of his brow, his fingers drumming on his crossed arms.
“Maybe I need to stand there and supervise your shower too? Or do I need to wash you myself?”
“You’d like that, prick,” she said under her breath as she turned, the slight movement of her hair matching the sway of her breasts
And then her ass was presented once more, and his breath caught in his throat. Her back tapered nicely down to twin dimples he found quite appealing indeed. Then the curve of her hips flared, bottom plump, lush even. The redness of her earlier spanking had disappeared almost entirely, only one spot, low on one cheek, threatening to darken with a small bruise. Her buttocks shivered a little as she shifted her weight, her fingers lacing tighter in that black mass of her hair.
“Legs shoulder-width apart.”
Complying, she muttered something, but it was too soft to make it out
“What was that, Ms. Cross?”
“Nothing… I. Please, isn’t this enough?”
He reached up, clasping her hands in his, her body tensing. Her hair was soft against his knuckles, and he thought then how much he’d like to run his fingers through it, feel that silky weight in his palms.
Too close, Lake. She despises you anyway. Just be done with this.
“I want you to bend over now. Body parallel to the floor. Keep your hands where they are.”
“Lake, for God’s sake—”
He smacked her ass with a loud crack, and she jumped, yelping.
She whimpered as she bent over, pausing a moment to widen her stance, hollowing her back and canting her hips a little to maintain her balance. Her movement was smooth, her hesitation borne of mortification rather than physical difficulty. He wondered at that as she held her position, the palm print blooming in deepening pink on her right buttock. The position was a stress position, intended to both expose the victim and physically tire them. He watched her for several long moments, the way the smooth thighs shivered with tension, the cords of the hamstrings taut, the crevice of her buttocks yawning open, the darkness within hinting at the anus not quite visible in the gathering morning light. The plump, smooth sex swelled below it, a glint of light catching what he’d suspected had gathered between the folds of her pussy. He laid a hand gently on her hip.
“Almost done.”
Her response was half growl, half sob.
Crouching behind her, he stroked a hand up the inside of each thigh, gauging her reaction. Surprisingly, though her thighs tensed further, she didn’t bolt, or even vocalize resistance. The handprint was an angry red now, and his palm caressed its heat before he ran his hands down her long, trembling thighs. This wasn’t about the wire anymore, and he wanted her to know that, to get used to the fact that he could — and would — touch her anywhere he liked. The sooner she understood that she was under his control, the sooner she might settle down, and the sooner she might actually be able to help him keep both of their asses from ending their days in shallow graves.
“Spread your cheeks, spread everything.”
Her breath caught at his words, and she froze. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, as she weighed the chances or punishment if she refused. He decided to help her along.
“If you don’t, I will. And you won’t like how I do it, either.”
She cut off a small, desperate sob but her hands slipped back to cup her buttocks.
Captive, Mine Page 6
