Sweet Captivity

by Julia Sykes

  “I’ll have to get you more, then,” he said, smiling again.

  “You don’t have to get first editions,” I replied. “I like newer stuff, too. Graphic novels are awesome. Works by Frank Miller and Alan Moore are great.”

  “I’ll get those for you, then,” he said. “And more first editions.”

  “But I just said you don’t have to. I’ve read most of them online, anyway.”

  “But they made you smile. So you’re getting more. Don’t argue with me, Samantha,” he said sternly before I could protest further. “I’ll put in an order tonight, and they’ll be here in the morning.”

  “How did you get them so fast?” I asked. “These had to be really hard to find.”

  “There was a store in New York that had them in stock. I sent someone to go get them.”

  “But I just told you I was bored last night.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not a long flight.”

  I gaped at him. “You flew someone from Chicago to New York and back again overnight to get me some comic books?”

  “Yes, and it made you smile. So the fifteen minutes it took me to set it all up was more than worth it.”

  The full power of what his dirty money could get him came down on me like a hammer, deflating the last of my joy.

  “What’s wrong?” He sounded a little strained.

  “I don’t want anything you bought with your Bliss money,” I said quietly.

  His jaw firmed. “You’ll get the books, anyway.”

  “I won’t read them.”

  “That’s your choice. You’ll still have them.”

  I glared at him. “You’re trying to manipulate me again. You know I’ll go out of my mind and end up reading them if they’re in here.”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “If you already know this, then why bother fighting me on it?”

  “Because you’re a smug bastard, that’s why.”

  He shook his head at me, but his smile didn’t waver. “I’m going to find a better use for that dirty mouth.”

  He crossed to the bed and unlocked the chain from the bedpost. He kept the length of it attached to my collar.

  “Come,” he commanded, coiling the chain around his fist and tugging gently. The pressure on my neck forced me to scramble to my feet.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, having no choice but to follow him as he walked out of the bedroom.

  “What was it you so charmingly called it?” he mused. “Oh, yes.” He shot a wicked smirk at me. “My torture room.”

  I tried to stop in my tracks, but he kept walking. The chain pulled taut, and I stumbled forward. I fisted the metal links in both hands and yanked. His arm barely tugged back toward me, but he stopped and turned to face me.

  My chest rose and fell rapidly, my breaths coming too fast as my heart raced.

  “I don’t want to go in there,” I said, my voice higher than usual. “I won’t cuss at you again. I won’t.”

  He shook his head, but the tilt of his lips was almost indulgent. “You will. You can’t seem to help yourself.”

  “I’ll try really hard,” I promised. “Just don’t take me in there. Please.”

  He took a step toward me. I flinched back. He frowned and pulled on the chain, forcing my body to tumble against his. I clutched at his shoulders for balance, but his hands had already closed around my waist to prevent me from falling.

  “This is part of your training,” he said calmly. “It will feel good. Not everything in that room is meant to cause you pain.”

  “It scares me,” I admitted on a shaky whisper, remembering my helplessness when he’d flogged me.

  Shock obliterated my growing fear when he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against mine. I tried to jerk away from him, but his hand curved around the back of my head, holding me in place while he continued the kiss. It was gentle, coaxing. My lips began to shape to his, and he increased the pressure of his mouth on mine, turning more demanding. My body softened against him, even as my fingernails curved into his shoulders, clinging on tight.

  He growled and nipped at my lower lip. I opened for him on a gasp, and his tongue invaded my mouth, sweeping in to claim me hard and deep.

  This kiss was different than our first. That one had been punishing, branding. This one wasn’t tender, but it was more careful. A slow, thorough seduction.

  He didn’t stop until I was desperate to draw breath, and when he finally pulled away, I gasped for air, my knees going weak as oxygen hit my system. He held me tightly against him, supporting my sagging weight with one strong arm around my lower back. His erection pressed into my hip, straining against his slacks. He still wore his suit, and I was still naked. The power dynamic should have been disconcerting, but my head was spinning from his scorching kiss.

  “Are you still scared?” he asked, running his fingers through my hair.

  I leaned into his touch without thought. “No,” I said, my voice strangely husky.

  “I promise this isn’t going to hurt,” he swore. “Only pleasure today.”

  “But I cussed at you.” I didn’t understand. “I called you a bastard.”

  “I heard you the first time,” he said drily. “We’re going to train your mouth. From now on, every time you curse at me, you’re going to make it up to me by using your tongue another way.”

  I trembled against him, knowing exactly what he meant. “I don’t… I haven’t ever…”

  He continued to stroke my hair. “I know you haven’t,” he said, his tone low and soothing. “I’m going to teach you. And I’ll make it feel good for you, so you associate my cock in your mouth with pleasure.”

  “You’re trying to condition me again.” My accusation came out more shakily than I’d intended. “I don’t like when you do that.”

  “You’ll like this.” His arm slipped from my lower back, his hand skimming over my bottom before dipping between my legs. He cupped my sex, his fingers playing through my soft folds. Pleasure began to pulse at my core. I couldn’t help but respond to his touch.

  “Did you know your body is capable of having multiple orgasms?” he asked as he played with me. “I wonder how many you’ll have before you can’t take any more.”

  “Please…” I wanted him to stop, before I couldn’t stop myself. Heat coiled in my belly, and my lower lips grew slick with my arousal.

  “Please make you come?” he asked, lightly mocking. He sensed my internal struggle, and it seemed to amuse him. “Not yet, sirenita. You have to come into my playroom first.”

  “It’s a torture room,” I countered breathily.

  “It’s where I play with my fucktoy. That makes it my playroom.”

  “I’m not your fucktoy.”

  “It’s not an insult, so there’s no need to look so spiteful,” he said, still amused. “You’re my toy, my plaything, my pet. And you love when I play with you and pet you. See? You’re creaming all over my hand.”

  “Just because my body feels one way about it doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “Don’t lie, cosita. You wouldn’t have watched all that kinky porn if you didn’t like it. If you didn’t long for it.”

  “I longed for—” I cut myself off before I said Dex’s name. I wouldn’t risk that again. “I don’t want this with you.”

  “Then why am I the only man who’s ever touched you? You were so skittish at first. Do you really think you would have found pleasure with someone else? They wouldn’t have understood how to handle you. Not like I do. You need a firm hand.”

  “I don’t,” I protested weakly. I really was getting embarrassingly wet as he spoke, responding to all the twisted, crass things he was saying about me.

  He brushed a kiss over my lips. My head tipped back in response.

  “No more lies,” he murmured against my mouth. “You don’t have permission to speak. I’m not going to gag you, but know that there will be other consequences if you defy me. The next time you use your mouth, it will be to s
uck my cock. Once I come down your throat, you’ll be allowed to talk again.”

  I gaped at him, and he traced the O of my lips with his fingertips.

  “Just like that,” he said with satisfaction. “I’m not going to force your mouth, but you will accept me before we leave the playroom.”

  I shook my head in denial, not daring to utter another word when I knew he was about to take me into the torture room, whether I wanted it or not. But no way was I going to take his cock in my mouth of my own volition. Just the idea was dirty.

  Dirty. Wrong.

  Dirty little girl.

  “Cosita,” he said firmly, his fingers threading through my hair. The light pull against my scalp grounded me. “Don’t be afraid.” It was an order. “This is new for you, but I’ll guide you through it. You’re safe with me.”

  Safe.

  I felt myself nodding, even though that didn’t make any sense. All I knew was the fear that had been creeping at the edges of my mind had subsided, and I was grateful for Andrés’ commanding touch.

  Inexplicably, I felt secure in his firm arms. When he finally released me and began to walk toward the playroom, I followed him without further protest.

  Chapter 13

  A shudder rolled through me when Andrés flipped on the crimson lights. My gaze went straight to the spanking bench, and I took a small step back toward the sitting room.

  "No, cosita," he said soothingly, wrapping his arm around my waist and guiding me forward. It might have been a sweet gesture, but the way his fingers curled around my hip communicated his control. "We're not using the bench today," he promised, leading me past it. "Do you know what this is? You have my permission to speak."

  I blinked and looked down where he pointed. I recognized the black device that curved up in a half-sphere, the flat side resting on the floor. It was built to be straddled. If I went down on my knees, the curve would fit between my thighs as I lowered my weight onto it.

  "A Sybian," I answered breathily, knowing exactly what it was.

  "Such a clever, kinky virgin," he said with pleasure.

  "But I can't... There's not a dildo attached." In all the porn I'd seen, women rode huge dildos as they bounced up and down on the vibrating machine.

  "My fingers and my cock will stretch your tight little pussy before I put anything else inside you." His hand tightened possessively on my hip. "The vibrations will be strong enough that you'll feel it everywhere. Your clit, your pussy, your ass. I don't need to fill you with a fake cock to make you scream in pleasure."

  "That... That sounds... intense," I said, fumbling over my words. It certainly didn't sound painful. Quite the opposite. But it also sounded like I'd come unraveled if the pleasure was as intense as he claimed. I'd confessed my deepest secrets to him in exchange for orgasms already. What would I do when subjected to this?

  Suck his cock.

  That was what he wanted from me.

  I glanced at the bulge of his erection, which stood out clearly against his slacks. The knowledge that he wanted me made something warm unfurl in my chest; a pure, feminine satisfaction.

  The rational part of my mind noted his size, and I remembered how big he'd felt in my hand when I'd touched him in the shower for the first time.

  "I won't be able to fit... It won't fit," I mumbled, my cheeks flaming. I couldn't say your cock won't fit in my mouth aloud. It was far too shameful.

  "We'll go slow," he promised. "You can take me. You will learn."

  He was talking about it like my surrender was already a foregone conclusion.

  "And if I say no?" I asked quietly.

  "Are you saying no?"

  "I... I'm nervous. I mean, you're so big. And I've never... I don't know..." I was babbling, my sentences unfinished and incoherent.

  He leaned in and captured my lips with his, taking my mouth slow and deep, until my mind quieted. The anxiety that had started churning in my stomach subsided, giving way to warmth that spread down between my legs.

  "You don't have to talk anymore," he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss against my cheek. "It's okay to be nervous. I'll be right here to tell you what to do."

  I nodded, almost grateful that he'd forestalled the words that had started spilling out of me. I didn't like when my mouth ran away with me out of nervousness. It felt... comforting, knowing I didn't have to say anything else. That I wasn't allowed to say anything else. His command for my silence freed me from my nervous tic, and it was kind of nice. Liberating.

  His grip shifted to my upper arms, and he applied pressure to guide me down. "On your knees."

  I sank down far more gracefully than I ever could have managed on my own. When he moved my body, I didn't have to worry about being awkward or ungainly.

  "So beautiful," he praised when I fully lowered myself onto the Sybian, my wet pussy coming to rest against the hard, cool surface.

  He leaned down and moved my left ankle closer to the device. Supple leather closed around it, and he buckled the cuff closed to secure me in place.

  Why? The word teased at the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. I wasn't supposed to talk. It was so much easier than questioning him, anyway.

  He cuffed my right ankle on the other side. Testing my range of movement, I tried to push up on my knees, but I couldn't rise up off the Sybian with my legs bound beneath me.

  He wasn't done restraining me. He grasped my wrists and directed them above my head. Another set of cuffs dangled from a chain that hung from the ceiling. I didn't resist as he buckled them around my wrists. There was no point. I was already bound to the Sybian, and fighting would have only earned me a punishment.

  I didn't want another one of those, especially not with the reminder of the spanking bench looming in front of me.

  He's not going to hurt me, I told myself. He's not going to—

  "Oh!" I cried out as the machine began to vibrate beneath me. My fingers and toes curled as ecstasy rolled through my entire body in a shockwave.

  Andrés smirked down at me and fully removed the small black remote control from his pocket.

  "You like your new toy, gatita?"

  I moaned and nodded, not even thinking about forming a verbal response.

  He stroked my cheek, communicating his pleasure with me. "Greedy girl. I want you to keep count of how many orgasms you have. Can you do that for me?"

  I swallowed another moan and nodded again. The vibrations rumbled through me, just as he'd promised. I should have been ashamed at the pleasure I was finding in the stimulation, but all I could focus on was how good it felt. I started to roll my hips in wanton abandon. As I did, the vibrations concentrated on my clit, then my pussy, then my ass. I really should have felt ashamed of the particular pleasure I found in that, but I couldn't stop myself once I started.

  "You're going to be so beautiful when you're riding my cock like that," he said, his voice rough with need. He traced the line of my lower lip with his thumb before pushing inside. I opened for him, and he rubbed his calloused fingertip over my tongue. The sensation of his rough skin against my sensitive nerve endings was wickedly decadent. I groaned and pressed my tongue against him, licking and exploring the slightly salty taste of his skin. He started to gently pump his thumb in and out, pushing a little farther in each time, until he neared the back of my throat. I had to focus on breathing and suppressing my gag reflex. It felt so good, and I didn't want to ruin it.

  "Good girl," he ground out, his own desire riding him hard.

  My sense of feminine satisfaction intensified, and my eyes went to his erection. I started rocking faster on the Sybian, moving on instinct as I sought more pleasure. The chains that held my arms above my head clanked as I undulated my body. Even though I was bound, I felt powerful, beautiful, blissful. The need in Andrés' voice and the evidence of his hard cock sent me flying high. He wanted me. And I wanted...

  With his free hand, he reached down and pinched my nipple, rolling and pulling it gently. "Come for me," he commanded.


  The little bite of pain sent me over the edge. Heat shot straight from my tormented nipple to my clit, and I ground against the Sybian, rotating my hips as I screamed around his thumb. He continued stroking my tongue as I came undone, and I started licking his finger like it was my favorite candy. I couldn't get enough of the sensation of his firm touch inside my mouth. It made me tingle everywhere: my mouth, my pussy, my ass. Dark ecstasy raced through me, and I shuddered in my chains as my orgasm claimed me.

  His thumb popped out of my mouth, and I whimpered at the loss.

  "Don't forget to count for me," he said as he turned off the machine, his crooked smile filling my chest with warmth. The expression tugged at his scar, but it didn't scare me anymore. He looked... powerful where he loomed above me in his sharply-tailored suit. Dark and definitely dangerous, but utterly masculine and confident. He wanted me, but he found pleasure in giving me pleasure. It was evident in the hungry way he watched me, the way his cock strained toward me.

  He chuckled and touched two fingers beneath my chin, redirecting my gaze to his face. "You were supposed to count your orgasms," he reminded me.

  "What? Oh. One," I said faintly.

  He tilted his head at me. "That's not nearly enough for my greedy gatita, is it? I want more, too."

  For a moment, I thought he meant he wanted to come himself, but he turned the Sybian on again, obviously intent on giving me more pleasure.

  My gaze riveted back on his erection, and I couldn't help imagining what it would be like to feel his cock with my tongue instead of licking his thumb. My surrender was inevitable. Why fight it? Especially now that I knew how good it felt to have something filling my mouth. I'd never have imagined that it could feel so deliciously sensual.

  "You want to see me?" he asked huskily, noting the direction of my gaze.

  I nodded and started rolling my hips against the Sybian again, moving without thought. Pleasure was already building at my core, my entire body tingling as little sparks crackled through my system.