He stepped back a little and my inspection began.
He didn’t speak so much as mutter sounds of approval as he lifted each of my breasts, slapping them softly. He squeezed one hardened nipple, making me cry out, making it difficult to keep my hands where they were. He then trailed his fingertips over my belly and down to my sex. He leaned down and pressed his thumb against the stubble there. I was normally waxed bare but it had been a few weeks. He clucked his tongue and looked at me. “We’ll have to take care of this,” he said. “Don’t want you looking sloppy.” He straightened then and patted my hip. “You know how this is going to go, right? Turn around, take your legs wider and bend over. Hands around your ankles.”
Why this still made me flush with embarrassment I wasn’t sure. The expression in his eyes was hard, inflexible, and I knew I had no choice. I had to get through this. Why did it matter anyway? He was right. He’d seen every inch of me. He’d fucked me. Why was this so damn hard?
I turned and widened my stance. He stepped back and audibly sucked in a breath as I bent and took hold of my ankles.
“You’ll want to avoid more spanking for the next few days at least,” he said, making me wince when he touched my welted bottom. He then spread my cheeks wide. “What’s this, Lily?” he asked, two fingers running over the folds of my sex. “You’re wet.”
I sucked in that breath when his hands slid forward and two fingers found my swollen clit.
“Do you like doing as you’re told?” he asked, rubbing harder, making me take one hand to the floor to support myself. “I’ll have to check you more closely next time I spank you,” he continued. “Maybe it’s the pain that gets you wet.”
“No,” I managed.
“No, I shouldn’t check you more closely or no, you don’t like the pain because something’s got you soaking here, girl?” As he said it, his other hand pulled my cheeks wider and a finger dipped into my pussy once, twice, before trailing the cleft up to my bottom hole and the pad of that finger, wet with my own arousal, began to circle my anus. “And this?” he asked, working my clit harder. When he pressed his finger into the tight hole, I sucked in a breath, all of my muscles tightening. “How tight is this hole?” he said more to himself than to me. “Has it ever been fucked?”
I groaned, clenching against him as he pushed in to one knuckle. It hurt a little but it was more the embarrassment than anything else.
The fingers working my clit were gone and I felt a light slap to my hip.
“When I ask you a question, you answer it,” he said, thrusting his finger into my ass, making me call out with the sudden pain of the rough intrusion. “I’m feeling generous so I’ll repeat myself. Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Lily?”
“No!”
“No, what?” he asked, pulling out and pushing in again, slowly this time.
“No, Sir.” I said, my reward his fingers returning to my clit. I hated this, hated wanting how it felt, hated him for making me want it.
“So you’ve never come with a cock in your ass?” he taunted, still slowly moving inside me, pulling all the way out then pushing back in. The sensation was so different from anything I’d felt before, so much more intense.
“No, Sir,” I said through a shudder.
“You’re tight, Lily, girl,” he said, “I’ll have to ready you to take my cock here.”
“No, no, no…” I began, rising a little, hating myself for not trying harder to pull away.
“Shh,” he coaxed, his hand at my back, his fingers wet on my skin. “Back down now, girl. I’m not going to fuck your ass today. Hands back around your ankles.”
I mewled but resumed my position and he resumed the rubbing of my clit, pinching it harder now as he added a second finger into my asshole.
I was barely able to hold still and to my shame, couldn’t remain quiet as he brought me to the very edge of orgasm.
“Not today. Today you’ll come with my fingers in your ass and you’ll learn how good girls, girls who do as they’re told, are rewarded,” he said. “Come, Lily.”
Chapter 11
His phone finally rang while he was on his walk out to the shed. The day was overcast, but still reasonably warm — perfect for what he had in mind. He’d seen the boxes under the window when he’d gone in to see Lily, the way she’d stood there, guilty, caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Lily had been a bad girl, so he needed to take care of that little problem.
Lake put the phone to his ear as he sorted through the mess of the shed. “Tell me you got the car.”
“I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be true.”
Lake sighed, but inside he was relieved. For every day that elapsed since his last call with his fixer, he doubted more and more he’d ever hear from him again.
“So, what happened? You found it, didn’t you?”
“Yep. But someone else found it first.” Kellen paused a moment. “I parked the truck about half a click past the quarry and walked down to it. Never got close to the car though. Place was crawling.”
“Cops?”
Lake’s heartbeat began to thud. This was... not good.
“No way. Two vans, no markings. Suits. One tall motherfucker seemed to be running the show.”
“Dark hair?”
“Affirmative.”
DeSalvo.
A rake fell against the steel wall of the shed, the sound ringing in Lake’s ears. “Jesus.”
“I got good eyes on ‘em through the scope—”
“You had your weapon on them?”
“Had no idea who they were. Of course I had my weapon on ‘em. Had a good field of fire from a thick stand along a ridgeline to the northeast, just in case. Was a fucking bitch to get up there though.”
No cops.
He agreed with Kellen — definitely no cops, yet. Had DeSalvo informed the US Marshals though? That wasn’t clear. The men described could easily be more marshals or Randall’s men. He’d have to assume DeSalvo wasn’t the only corrupt marshal, so at this point it didn’t matter. The good news was, no cops. At worst, DeSalvo was trying to at least keep the news within the Marshals Service. But if Lake were in DeSalvo’s shoes? No way would he let the Marshals Service know he’d lost custody of Lily. It had to be Randall’s men then. It would give them more time.
But they had the car now.
“Kellen, were you followed?”
“No way. I watched them all go then humped it through the bush back to my truck. No roads on foot.”
“You need to get gone. Now.”
Lake tried to think. They probably had time, after all. The car complicated things, but without the police involved, they were likely safe. For now. With the car, DeSalvo could keep the cops ignorant as to what had really happened, and he could probably string the Marshals Service along for as long as he needed too. If it was Randall’s men searching for them, they’d take their time, be careful.
Eventually though, they’d likely zero in. Nothing obvious connected Lake or Lily to his cabin. But cartels were fiendishly clever — and relentless. He’d done enough business with them over the years to know.
Someday, they’d find them.
“You heard me, right? They had no idea I was there, boss.”
“Kellen, listen to me, and do what I tell you.” Lake paused to calm his voice. “If they get hold of you, we’re all dead. Do you understand me?”
“Affirmative.”
“Gone — and stay gone. I don’t want to hear from you anytime soon, you got me?”
“You plannin’ on telling me what the fuck’s going on?”
Lake rubbed a hand across his forehead. “That big mother you got a bead on? Crooked marshal. Randall owns him.”
Kellen whistled.
“They were going to take Lily Cross hostage.” Lake winced. “And I was going to hand her over to Randall.”
Even over the phone, he could feel Kellen cool.
“I should’ve told you, Kellen, but it was my last job. Shitty thing
to do to you, I know. I’m sorry for it.”
“Why do you have her now? Why bring an entire cartel and a crooked marshal down on you? Makes no fucking sense, boss.”
“DeSalvo… was going to work her over first.”
“Fucking prick. I knew I should’ve fired him up. Had his mug right in the crosshairs…”
“I couldn’t let him do it.” Lake kicked an old can of spray paint, sending it spinning back into the darkness of a corner of the shed. “Just couldn’t.”
“Never could resist the rescues, could you?” Kellen gave him his trademark wry chuckle. Lake suddenly feared he’d never hear it again.
“Best thing to do right now is stay out of sight. Out of country, if you can swing it. I don’t know how much they checked into me, but it’s a good bet they know you’re an associate. They’ll assume it. So, get gone.”
He finally spotted the can he was looking for. Now, he had to find a damned brush.
“I’m off the grid in one hour, boss. I don’t expect I’ll be talking to you again, will I?”
“No, I don’t expect you will, Kellen.”
“Take care of her. But don’t be a fucking hero.”
No danger of heroism here! Monster.
The line went dead.
Lake looked up at the trees swaying gently in the warm wind. “Good luck, my friend.”
He finally found the brush and headed back.
* * *
He didn’t even make the second brush stroke down the glass before Lily’s pretty face appeared on the other side of the window. Her eyes were wide, the question on her lips. But he simply smiled at her, adding another broad swath of black paint.
This is fucked up, Lake.
“You passed fucked up about six exits ago, dude,” Lake muttered.
Lily’s lips moved, the sound only barely discernable over the whispering of the breeze through the leaves. “Why?”
She needed to learn. Every time she was defiant, every time she pushed the boundaries, the stricter he’d become, the more of her freedom she’d be relinquishing. Soon, he hoped she’d really understand, and he could go easy on her again.
But now was not that time, unfortunately.
He knew the paint wouldn’t block out all the light, but that would be to his advantage. It would let in just enough so that Lily could see what her behavior was depriving her of, the wages of disobedience to him.
As Lake completed the last stroke over the glass, the window fully blacked out, he set down the paint can, laying the brush across the top. For a moment, he closed his eyes, searching his mind, taking stock about what was okay, and what was, well, evil. This wasn’t evil, quite. Did this need to be done? Yes, she had to learn. Especially when it came time to flee — and that time was coming, the only question was when. He knew it, deep down, no matter how much he wished it weren’t so.
Lily had to learn to obey him instantly, instinctively. It was going to be hard for her, but for now, anyway, he had the time to be both patient and relentless. He’d teach her, mold her, make her what he needed her to be — what she needed to be, though she’d never admit it.
And, someday, it might just save their lives.
Rationalizer.
He wasn’t though, not really. Yes, he enjoyed this, took pleasure in bending her strong will to his. There was no denying that fact, and it was something they both knew now. The only question was how far she could be bent before she broke. He’d take her right up to that point, but not past it. Breaking Lily wasn’t what he wanted. That would truly be evil.
But they had a lot farther to go before they reached that point. And it made no sense not to acknowledge that he looked forward to it with a dark anticipation that fired his imagination, his possessiveness, and his lust.
He snapped the lid onto the paint can and walked back toward the shed, breathing deeply of the fragrant, clean scent of a forest afternoon. Then he stopped in his tracks, remembering. When he’d last been inside to see her, there’d been that box next to her, the one she’d climbed onto to look out the window. That box hadn’t been there before.
She’d moved it.
Lake sighed in resignation, even as his cock hardened at what lay ahead. It was time for the next step with Lily.
Chapter 12
My first proper meal in what felt like days consisted of tuna from a can and some saltine crackers — and I’d never tasted anything more delicious. Lake simply watched me while I devoured everything he put in front of me and I didn’t care for a second what I looked like as I shoved crackers and chunks of tuna into my mouth.
“How many days have we been here?” I asked after downing a glass of water.
“A few,” he answered, always a wealth of information.
I looked at him looking at me as if he were waiting for me to challenge him. Well, I wasn’t going to do that. I didn’t want to go back to the bad girl’s room. I never wanted to go back there again.
“Can I call my dad? Tell him I’m okay?”
Lake shook his head, rubbing his chin with his hand. “Not yet. We can’t take a chance on anyone tracing the call.”
“If he thinks Randall has me, he won’t testify.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. The quicker he testifies, the quicker this mess is over.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, knowing that when he had taken me from DeSalvo, no matter how I wanted to fault him for what he’d done to me since, he had saved my life.
“Finish up,” he said, standing.
I forced the last bite, no longer hungry. “I’m cold.” I hugged my arms around myself. I wore a T-shirt he had given me, one of his. It was entirely too big, but at least I wasn’t naked anymore.
Lake got up and picked up a discarded blanket from the couch. He brought it over and instead of handing it to me, he tucked it in behind my back. I met his gaze as I took the corners of it, suspicious of this little act of kindness.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ve got some work to do so you’ll go back to your room until I’m done.”
“I’d really like to have a shower, Lake. I’ll be quick. Please…Sir?”
“Now, that is sweet,” he began, tucking my hair behind my ear before pushing my chair back and motioning for me to stand. “But I’ve got a little work to do. I’ve got to get some things ready in case we need to get out of here in a hurry. Once I’m done, you can have that shower and you can take as long as you like.”
“I won’t do anything, I promise.”
“Don’t whine, Lily,” he said, opening my bedroom door. “In you go. When I’m back, you can have that shower first thing. I promise.”
“Are you going away?”
“Not far. To the room you recently vacated.”
I stepped into my bedroom and turned, puzzled. “What do you have to do there?” If he looked closely at anything I’d touched, he’d know I’d been snooping. But really, did he think I wouldn’t? I was his captive, I hadn’t forgotten that, and I wouldn’t, no matter what happened between us. At that thought, I felt my face heat up and dropped my gaze from his. When I looked up a moment later, I found his gaze still on mine, studying me.
“Why don’t you get some sleep while I’m gone? You look tired.”
A few days ago, I’d have had a comeback for that, but today, I simply nodded and went to the bed. He closed the door and I heard to the deadbolt slide into place as I climbed beneath the sheets and tucked the blanket he’d given me up to my neck, falling asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.
* * *
Lake stood up from the opened boxes, running a hand through his now sweaty hair.
“Goddammit.”
He knew he should’ve moved those boxes. But every time he’d seen Lily in that room, waiting, fearing, wanting — removing those boxes had taken a backseat to the needs of his cock, his need to conquer the bewitching, maddening captive in his care.
“Care,” he grunted. “I’
m sure that’s exactly what she’d call it, Lake.”
She’d definitely rifled through the boxes. He’d always packed precisely, and his memory never failed him. She’d been through all of it. Probably frantically shoved it all back in as he turned the key in the lock. He was surprised she’d left the boxes out in the open under that window. Maybe she’d hoped he wouldn’t notice — or maybe she’d hoped he would.
Either way, it was a problem. But he had a solution for it. He glanced at the length of leather hanging on the wall. She feared it, which was exactly how he wanted it. She still didn’t fear him — at least not completely — but she feared that strap.
Lily’s bottom was about to become reacquainted with—
He froze.
Where is it?
It was the last picture of Sara he’d let himself keep. Even though every time he looked at it, the memory still burned, still ached as if he’d found her only yesterday, the needle still in her arm, as incriminating as a murder weapon.
He’d burned all of her pictures, knowing he didn’t need them, didn’t need the agony of seeing her beautiful form before the drugs had wrought their horrors upon her, before she’d become something he no longer recognized.
She had no fucking right.
He opened the drawer again, carefully sorting through the contents, and finally found it. The picture, still in the frame that had always been its home — but with the wrapping gone and a new crack in the glass. He’d remembered precisely how he’d laid it inside. Out of sight, but never out of mind. Someday he’d hoped he could burn that one too, when the memory of his wife no longer filled him with hurt, and rage, and loss. But that day had not yet come.
Red tinged his vision as he went through everything, sorting the contents of each box, the rage and helplessness filling him as each second ticked by. He flung open the closet, spotting the fresh paths left by slender fingers through the dust that coated the suitcase. He didn’t need to unzip the suitcase — he knew she’d been in there too.
He closed the closet, leaning a head against the door a moment then backing away. When the backs of his thighs hit the bed, he dropped to the mattress, holding his head in his hands.
Captive, Mine Page 12
