Owned by the Dom: Part Two (The Owners)

by Sam Crescent

  He wished he hadn’t invited her back.

  The way she moved tantalised him. Her hips swung from side to side, and her tits moved with each beat. Shit, his cock thickened in his pants. Two months without her and he threatened to rip apart his trousers in order to get to her.

  His office door opened and slammed against the wall. Prudence stood glaring at him. She stepped into his office looking threatening. He found her cute with her arms folded. She wasn’t tall, and her presence was more adorable than scary.

  She closed the door advancing closer to his desk.

  “Why are you here, Prudence?” James asked. Her scent was driving him crazy. In the short space everything about her filled every part of his office. Her scent, the way she looked, everything captivated him. She always wore the most subtle perfume, which always drove him crazy with wanting her.

  “You ask me to come to Ravage; you buy me a drink, and then nothing?”

  He heard the hurt in her voice. Calling her Prue had been a mistake. He’d hated the word on his tongue. To him, her name would always be Prudence.

  “I asked you to come. I never said I’d use the moment to take advantage of you or anything else.”

  I want to bend you over this desk and fuck you so hard it hurts.

  He couldn’t stand up, as otherwise she’d see the evidence of his raging arousal. His desire for her never ceased, and it was starting to really irritate him. He was tired of looking. Watching and not being able to touch was driving him crazy. At the park he’d wanted to tear her jeans off and fuck her. Every chance he got he thought about taking her, loving her, and making her his once again.

  Prudence was his, and he didn’t understand why there was this void between them. He couldn’t stop it. Each time he tried to give in to his possessive nature, he stopped, remembering what she’d been through.

  “How can I not think you’ve got someone else when you treat me like this? I thought you loved me and you wanted me?”

  “I do. I want your safety above all things.”

  Tears filled her eyes. He held onto the edge of the desk to keep him in place. If he touched her then they’d both be lost. He couldn’t give her what she needed.

  “I needed to see you,” she said.

  Her voice went straight to his cock. He wasn’t some teenage boy, and yet his body betrayed him as if it was. Growling in frustration, James pushed away from the desk. He stood and opened his arms. His anger at what was happening between them made him lose control.

  “There, now you’ve seen me. I’m alive and living to see another fucking day. Are you happy?” he asked.

  “What is going on?” She took a step closer.

  “Beats me, baby. I seem to get one step closer to you, and you take one step back.”

  She stopped when there was only an arm’s length between them. The distance wasn’t far, but to James it felt like they were worlds apart. He stared at Prudence and saw the woman he loved. She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The barrier, invisible, separated them from each other and from their happiness.

  “I can’t stop this,” he said. “Only you can stop this.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. Even if they called it a day, James knew there would never be another woman for him. There would be women he used to fuck to rid himself from the pain, but none of them would mean anything. The thought of touching another woman made him sick to his stomach.

  Cupping her cheek, James rested his head against hers. There was only one thing he could think of that they hadn’t tried.

  “I need you to speak with that woman, the psychologist. I gave you her card. I want you to make an appointment to see her.”

  She tensed in his arms. He stroked her face and shushed her. “Don’t speak, Prudence. Not now, I need you to listen to me.”

  James sensed she wanted to argue with him. She calmed down in a matter of moments, and he kissed her head.

  “Make an appointment and talk with this woman. I’m not giving up on us, Prudence.”

  “I don’t need to speak with someone.”

  “If you don’t speak with this woman then we’re through,” James said. He hated the words but knew they were necessary in order for his woman to find peace.

  “You can’t mean that,” she said. Her lips quivered. More than anything, James wanted to give in. He wanted to hold her in his arms and promise that everything would be okay. Instead, he shook his head taking a step back.

  “I mean it. Do this for us, Prudence.”

  He turned away from her and took his seat back behind the desk. Opening the file in front of him he started marking up the accounts. Ravage was slowly easing back into profit.

  Prudence stared at him. He felt her eyes on him while he worked.

  “I don’t have her number anymore,” Prudence said.

  “Then I’ll book the appointment, and I’ll tell you the time and the date.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something else. Within moments he heard the door close behind her, leaving only her scent behind.

  Leaning back in his chair, he grabbed the phone while also logging into the security cameras on his computer. Her image came on screen. He zoomed in to watch her finish some water before leaving without her friends.

  “Josiah? James Castleden here. Could you give me the name and number of that psychologist woman?”

  He jotted down the name and number then hung up. Right at that moment James would do anything to keep their relationship together.

  Chapter Twenty

  Seeing the therapist

  Prue sat in the waiting room and felt like everyone was staring at her. She’d never been to a therapist for anything in her life. The only time she’d spoken to someone like this was with her tutor with regards to discussing her future. She flicked through the magazine wishing the time would pass.

  When James called her to confirm the appointment she’d tried to talk him out of it. He’d become firm, and there was no breaking his resolve. Going to therapy to sort out her troubles was foreign to her. She’d never come from money, and her family solved problems by addressing them in a stern but calm manner or by forgetting about them. Someone coughed in the room. The sterile environment put her on edge. Running her fingers through her hair, she stared at the posters on the walls.

  James refused to have anything to do with her until she talked to someone about her problems. Four months had passed since she’d been taken. Living at her home grew easier every day she lived there. Spending time with her sister was enjoyable, but she missed the freedom of her old self. She no longer went out with friends apart from the time at Ravage. Once in the last four months was unacceptable. Becky and Anya had been offish with her for some time. She was pleased when she’d entered Ravage that she hadn’t been overcome with a panic attack. Getting on the dance floor had felt like freedom in some way. Prudence feared that Ravage would turn into a kind of hell for her instead of the sanctuary she saw it. When the pictures lost her attention she sat with her hands grasping her seat.

  She tapped her fingers against the leather couch then checked her watch. Prue made a note to never arrive early. Sitting in this waiting room for any length of time would have her clawing her hair out in no time.

  You’re doing this for you and James.

  You can get through this.

  The door opened wide, and her name was called through. Grabbing her purse she walked into the room. Eyes followed her, or at least she thought they did. A very thin blonde woman stood by the door. Prue looked at her, wishing she didn’t look like a therapist. The woman’s arm pointed out in the direction of the seats.

  “You’re Prudence Star?” the woman said.

  “Yes, but most of the people I know call me Prue. And you are?” she asked. In her fight to not come she hadn’t given note to the woman’s name. James organised her appointment as she’d thrown the woman’s card in the trash.

  Wh
y are you babbling?

  Her nerves were getting the better of her.

  “Priscilla Charles. Please, take a seat.”

  Prue moved to the sofa that sat opposite a single chair. She sat in the centre then rubbed her sweaty palms over her thighs.

  “It’s a pleasure to have you here, Prue.” Priscilla placed a pair of glasses on, then looked over a file resting in her lap. “James was kind enough to tell me some information, and I’ve got some information on your case in front of me. Would you enlighten me?”

  Prudence looked at the older woman and felt a lump in her throat. “You know James?”

  “Yes, we go way back as we used to be in the same school together. A lifetime ago.”

  Jealousy spiked through Prudence. She didn’t like the thought of this woman knowing her man intimately or not.

  James has never talked about her. Stop overreacting.

  “Please, Prue, we’re not here to talk about him. We’re here to talk about you. Would you enlighten me about yourself and what has brought you to me?”

  Prue took a deep breath before speaking. “I thought you were supposed to help me?” Prue asked, running her fingers through her hair.

  “I will help you. First I need all the facts in order to know where to start.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ve been advised to talk to someone, and I don’t know what to say.” She was being difficult, but Prue couldn’t stop.

  Priscilla removed her glasses then stared at her. The serious empathy on the woman’s face shocked her. “You’re not alone in feeling confused. I’ve had many patients who are confused and want nothing to do with me. I don’t think of myself as a therapist. I advise my patients to see me as a friend whom they can talk to without fear.”

  “You want us to treat you as a friend, but you call us patients.” Prue chuckled.

  “How would you like me to refer to you?”

  Prue sat back on the sofa and stared at the women. Her blonde hair was bound on top of her head, and her blue eyes assessed with each second that passed.

  How did she want this time to go?

  What did she want Priscilla to think of her?

  Why are you doing this?

  “Just call me Prue,” she said.

  “All right, Prue. Let’s get started.”

  Letting out a huge breath, Prue answered all of the woman’s questions. She spoke of her childhood and the incident that led to her kidnapping. They brushed over the details of James and what he had to contribute to her life. Prue wasn’t ready to talk about him. James played a huge part in her life, and she hoped he’d continue to do so.

  After an hour passed the bell rang, ending their session. Prue jumped hating the interruption.

  “I’m afraid that’s our time for today. I look forward to seeing you again next week.”

  Priscilla closed her notebook then stood to shake Prue’s hand.

  “Could we make these sessions longer?” Prue asked, offering the other woman her hand.

  “If you wish. I’ll make arrangements and send you the details.”

  Prue walked out. She leaned against the building pressing a hand around her throat. When her heart rate slowed down she smiled. She had thought going to see a therapist would hinder their relationship, but instead, Prue felt liberated somehow.

  Priscilla Charles was a confidante who was bound to do as she was asked.

  ****

  The next appointment Prue sat in the waiting room. She removed her coat, folded her arms, and waited. A week had passed, and this time she’d be getting a two hour appointment. She’d also been told the cost of the therapy was being paid for by James.

  Unease filled her at having James pay for her care, but she couldn’t afford it, and the talk last week helped her a lot. Also, James had taken her to the movies and out to dinner during the week. He seemed happy with her seeking help. She felt something missing between them, like an invisible barrier was stopping her from accepting James.

  She loved him, and every time she saw him he made her pussy cream and her heart melt for the pleasure of him. Being in his company thrilled her to the core.

  Holding back from him hurt like hell. She wanted nothing more than to go back to how things were between them. However, they were different.

  Even though James denied it, he was different as well.

  Priscilla stood before her. “Are you coming in?” she asked.

  Prue jumped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear my name being called.” Her cheeks flaming she walked into the room and took the same seat as last time.

  She waited for the woman to be ready.

  Once Priscilla started talking, Prue found herself relaxing more. During the meeting they discussed her family and then her sister and how her sister had been involved with James. With each word spoken Prue found herself filing away certain points in her mind. Speaking clearly about her life with a stranger allowed her to see past the faults she thought were there but were, in fact, only issues she’d made up in her mind.

  Many of the problems she’d created inside her head were nonsense, for instance, thinking her parents disliked her when in fact past events had proven they wanted the best for her. When the appointment was over most of her family had been discussed.

  For the next three appointments Prue talked about her family and her decision. The time for talking about her kidnapping came after four appointments. During this time she’d spent a great deal of time analysing her time with Henry and even understanding what was wrong with James. There was a loose connection inside her, but she didn’t know how to make it work or bypass the problem.

  “You’re making excellent progress, Prue. I want to talk about what happened when Daren Robinson took you from Ravage,” Priscilla said.

  She’d been expecting the question. Her nerves were gone, and she could look at what happened with an open mind. If Prue was being truthful, being taken and almost sold into sexual slavery felt like it had happened to someone else.

  “He was Leo at the time. When he took me and I woke on the boat, I was scared. During the kidnapping, I didn’t have time to think of anything. I’d woken up from a sleep. James had left to do something at Possession—that’s the club owned by his friend.”

  “I’m aware. Carry on.”

  “On the boat I contemplated killing myself. Throwing myself overboard rather than be at the mercy of Daren. Anyway, I didn’t, and the trip on the boat wasn’t half as terrifying as it should have been. Daren Robinson was a fucking monster, but he wasn’t mean. He hit me when I irritated him or tried to get away, and he made sure that I knew he was doing a job with me. What he did to me wasn’t personal. He never really attempted to rape me. There was a moment where it looked like he would, but then he stopped and nothing came of it.

  Prue paused to take a sip of water.

  “Move onto Henry,” Priscilla said.

  “That was hard. I was locked in a room for the longest time. I don’t know why they kept me so long. I know they struck a deal with James, but then they put me up for sale. I think I was becoming a nuisance, or maybe I was a risk to them in some way. They wouldn’t have let me go. I memorised the way they looked.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “When I got away I was determined to make the bastards pay. They hadn’t raped me, and the worst they did was hit me and beat me. But there were women who could have, and probably did have, far worse than what was done to me.”

  Priscilla made some notes.

  Not bothering to wait for her to finish, Prue continued talking to her. “I wasn’t deeply affected by what happened. But I couldn’t stand to have the door closed to any room. Being locked away finally did me in.”

  They spoke some more over her recovery and spending time with her sister.

  “I want to move on to James.”

  Prue tensed at his name. She’d been afraid of talking about him. Taking another sip of water, she looked past the woman’s shoulder. “What do you want to know
?”

  “He’s much older than you, and he was dating your sister, right?”

  “Yes, he dated Veronica. Nothing ever came of it, and they didn’t even sleep together.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’d never lie to me.” Prue looked down at where she was scratching the label off the water bottle. “What I say to you stays here, right?” she asked.

  “Yes, Prue.”

  “James is part of a select group of men. This is going to sound crazy, but bear with me. He’s possessive towards a woman. He needs to be in control and pretty much be part of her life to the point where it could drive the woman crazy. When I met him I didn’t know that side of him. He’s also a Dom. Do you know what the word means?” she asked.

  “I’m aware of BDSM and what James is.”

  “I knew what he needed, and I’d dabbled in the lifestyle before I went back into his life.” Prue struggled to find the right words. “Other women may find his possessive, dominating, and sometimes irritating attitude, hard to deal with. I love that side of him. He never asked me for permission. James took what he wanted without abuse or pain. He showed me by his power how he felt.”

  “You’re talking about his actions as if they’re in the past tense,” Priscilla said.

  “They are in the past tense. James is different. He treats me differently, and I find him difficult to deal with.”

  “In what way?”

  Prue rolled her eyes thinking of the best example. “Okay, the best example recently, James and I were in the park. We were walking, and I said something crazy to him. He pressed me against a tree. For the smallest of seconds I thought he was back. The man I’d fallen in love with. The James before I was taken would have made me come against the tree. This James holds back. I hate that he holds back with me. Maybe I’m crazy and I should like this kinder and more reserved James. I don’t. I feel in love with the man who gave me a cross as his token. The same man who fucked me across his desk while he should have been working.” She laughed. “The man who forced his friend to fire me so he could hire me.”