by Vonna Harper
Except for her sister.
“How—how long will this last?”
He’d been concentrating on the vegetarian omelet, but now he looked up at her. “I don’t know.”
“Days?” She swallowed. “Weeks?” Another swallow. “Don’t tell me you can’t ever let me go. Please, don’t.”
His darkening eyes left no doubt that he’d caught the panic in her voice. “It depends.”
“On—what?”
“How well the two of us do our jobs. And on whether eventually you’ll believe that we did the only thing we could.”
This didn’t make sense; surely he understood that. “And if I don’t?”
His mouth a white slash, he turned his back on her. “Don’t go there.”
“How can I not? Damn it, this is my life we’re talking about!”
Whirling back around, he glared at her. “We’re not talking about anything. I’m damn sorry I let you speak.”
“Why did you?”
His silence said nothing and everything, and because she knew better than to try to press him, she only watched while he dished up their breakfast. After placing her share in front of her, he unfastened her wrists. He sat on the adjacent stool, his presence enough to kill any and all thoughts she’d had about throwing herself at the front door. Not only did she have no doubt that it was locked, the unknowns remained. She didn’t know where she was or where, if anywhere, she could go for help.
And there was something else, an intangible life force between them, primitive and powerful.
Although she didn’t think she’d be able to so much as taste the omelet, the moment it touched her tongue, she sighed in approval. Calmed and quieted by the mix of flavors, she chewed and swallowed. “What about my relatives? What is the woman pretending to be me going to tell them?”
“You have only one, a sister. The answer is as little as possible.”
It won’t work, she nearly told him, but her freedom and possibly her life depended on her sister. “Oh.”
His scrutiny nearly forced her to drop her gaze. “For the record,” he said, “our operative has already left a message for Hayley. You’re beyond in love. You believe the man you had dinner with is the one you’ve been looking for all your life, and you don’t want anything to get in the way of getting to know him.”
Fighting down the impulse to laugh, she nodded.
“What is it?” he demanded with a forkful of omelet inches from his mouth. “You don’t think it’s going to work?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Good,” she snapped, just barely stopping herself from jumping to her feet. “because I’m not going to. You and whoever else is in on this insanity think you have it all figured out. Far from me to try to tell you different.”
They’d finished eating in silence, thank goodness, because if he’d pressed her she might have said something that could put Hayley in jeopardy. As it was, she had no doubt that Hayley wouldn’t begin to buy that cock and bull story because finding the man had never been one of her goals and Hayley knew it. What she didn’t know was what Hayley would do with her concerns, or how she’d go about trying to find her.
One thing for sure, no matter how desperately she wanted to believe in a wordless communication between the two of them, she couldn’t tell her sister where to send the cavalry because she didn’t know where she was. Oh, technically there was no doubt of her physical body’s exact position—next to a sleeping Reeve on a queen-size bed. Damn it, that sexual zing shouldn’t still exist. She didn’t want to be near him, she didn’t! Only tell that to her nerve endings.
Unlike him, she wasn’t free to sprawl out because he’d wrapped a rope around her waist and tied her hands to it in front. In addition, he’d loosely but effectively secured her feet to the bottom of the bed. Even if she managed to sit up without waking him, there was no way she could use her hands to unlock the restraints around her ankles.
She’d actually fallen asleep shortly after he’d finished positioning her, but forgetfulness hadn’t lasted long. Instead of trying to claw her way through the many questions about the mysterious others’ plans for her, she kept imagining the conversations at work. The management knew her. She’d worked hard to develop her reputation as reliable. At the same time, she’d been careful to separate her private life from business. Just because she’d joked about erotic and exotic dreams and fantasies didn’t mean those had been her actual dreams and fantasies. She’d never wanted to head into a jungle in search of Tarzan or seduce one of the world’s richest men, but maybe her coworkers had believed that nonsense about her desire for a life of luxury.
Was it possible? What she’d considered good-natured fun had been taken as the truth? If so then why wouldn’t everyone believe she was convinced she’d found a sugar daddy and was taking off for places unknown? After all, the same thing had happened to Amber Green.
Determined not to make herself sick contemplating the truth about Amber, she reluctantly turned toward Reeve. According to the nightstand clock, he’d been asleep for a couple of hours. He hadn’t slept last night so logic said he wouldn’t rouse for a while. What was he dreaming about, if anything? Thanks to the angle of his body, she couldn’t tell whether he had an erection, but it wouldn’t surprise her After all, he was a healthy young male with a helpless and relatively good-looking woman waiting for him to do whatever he wanted to.
Against all logic, her mind drifted in that direction. Upon waking, he’d free her legs and stroke her calves, knees, and thighs until her eyes glazed. As soon as she spread her muscle-less legs, he’d slide into the space she’d made for him He’d check her receptivity and, finding her drenched and soft and swollen, he’d aim his cock at her waiting and willing hole. Sex would be hard and quick and silent with bodies twisting on the sheet and the dry desert breeze carrying away their cries. Maybe they’d come at the same time, although maybe one or the other would fall off the ledge first. Whenever the leader landed, he or she would help the other reach the crest.
She wanted to come before him so she could watch his loss of control. How empowering the sight of a sweating, pumping, grunting man was! Brought down to animal level, a man becomes primal and basic. Conversation, what there was of it, was crude and single-minded, his interests going no further than the end of his cock. How long could she keep him in her? If—
Movement from him stole her breath-snagging thoughts. For a moment she told herself he was still asleep and doing nothing more than changing position, but there was purpose to the way he stretched, and when his hand slid over her middle, she sensed energy in the touch. He didn’t acknowledge her sigh, sent no message in intimate possession. It didn’t matter; his heat became hers.
Then he sat up, his nude body turning from her as he stood. He walked away without looking at her, and she stared at the ceiling instead of studying his retreating ass. When he returned, he had on a pair of cutoff jeans but no shoes or shirt. His features were grim and became even more so when he glanced at the clock. It was nearing noon.
Not meeting her nervous gaze, he unhooked her ankles from the bed but kept the connection between them in place. Pulling her into a sitting position, he leaned over and threw her over his shoulder. Intent on keeping as much of her weight as possible off her hands, she gave little notice to where they were going until she realized he’d taken her to the rear of the house, where she hadn’t been before.
When he straightened, she slid off him and took in her surroundings. They were in a room devoid of all warmth and personality. True, it had a dresser and a bed, if one could call that narrow mattress and high metal headboard and footboard a bed. Having seen a number of them at The Dungeon, she knew exactly what it was—a bondage prop.
The interior walls here, like the rest of the house, were concrete block, but where the other rooms had been painted in neutral but warm hues, these were gray. Metal rings had been attached to the walls at various heights.
This rear room was new and, she was willing to bet, constructed for one thing—to imprison.
Even more disconcerting, several video cameras had been set up. One was aimed at the bed, another toward one of the walls. From the looks of them, they could be detached in case someone wanted to carry them about, to provide a close-up of one body part or another.
Her mouth so dry she didn’t try to talk, she stared at Reeve, but although he had to know she needed an explanation, he said nothing. She couldn’t begin to read his expression.
Unwilling to give away any more than she already had, she turned her attention to her prison. There was a single long, narrow window near the ceiling through which just enough of the desert’s sunlight entered. They’d come through the only door, and it locked from the outside.
Ropes spawned from her imagination circled her. Even with fear and disbelief warring for supremacy, she couldn’t deny her body’s reaction. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t responding to the promise of multiple orgasms in exchange for a dose of well-paying bondage play. This was the real thing, danger and excitement rolled into one. Stealing a glance at Reeve, she concluded that she couldn’t have asked for a more perfect master if she’d ordered him. Not only did he have the requisite size, strength, and dark stare, but every cell of his body shouted masculine.
He was male, she helpless female.
In her fantasy he’d take her to the edge of fantasy and thrills, to the limits of sexual experiences. She’d become putty in his hands, a shaking, sweating, begging whore willing to crawl for whatever sexual satisfaction he granted her.
Her knees nearly buckled, forcing her to concentrate on remaining erect. By the time she was relatively sure she wasn’t going to collapse, much of the dangerous fantasy had faded to be replaced by the reality of an isolated prison where he could and would record everything he did to her.
For what purpose?
For who?
She took a backward step without knowing she was going to do so. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough play between her ankles to complete the movement. Off balance, she struggled to right herself. Instead, she all but tripped over her own foot and sprawled on the cool tile floor. Looking up, she saw him standing over her. He was huge, massive, all powerful, the beginning and end of her world.
Whimpering in terror and something else, she fought her arm restraints, but he’d given her less then two inches of play between her wrists and the rope around her waist. She fell forward onto her breasts.
Whimpering again, she struggled to roll over onto her side. Now her shoulder got in the way, and she wound up with her feet tucked under her, her ass in the air, her useless fingers clawing at nothing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, all but straddling her.
“Let me go! Goddamn you, let me go!”
“I can’t.” With that, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her off the floor. Carrying her against his hip with her head hanging down, he strode over to the bed and all but threw her at it. “Don’t move!”
Feeling too much like a chastised puppy, she rolled as best she could onto her side and watched as he walked over to the closest camera. After doing something with the equipment, he leaned down and looked through the viewfinder. She had no doubt that she filled the screen.
“This is me, Master X,” he said. His voice sounded stilted as if he wasn’t accustomed to talking to an audience. “I’ve been running a video of this room and its potential for several days now, both because I wanted to make sure everything was working properly and because—hell, because I wanted to give viewers something to look forward to.”
He pushed a button and then another. There was a faint whirring sound followed by a replay of what he’d just said. Nodding, he pushed a button again.
“Sorry for the delay. Just making sure the audio and visual feeds are coming through. I apologize for the grainy quality of the picture you’re seeing, but I have my reasons for hiding my slave’s identity. Before I captured her, she was a bit of a public figure. My ultimate wish is for her to have value in another arena, one I hope certain individuals can give me access to. Because of the nature of the public arena she worked in, I’ve come to the conclusion that now isn’t the time or place to reveal it. However, I’m a boastful man. I want viewers to see what a prize I have and to applaud my ability to work her. In order for that to happen, you, my audience, must have a clear view of everything. So if you will excuse me for several minutes, I’ll get her properly prepared.”
After turning off the camera, at least she assumed that’s what he’d done, he walked over to her. Although she’d commanded herself not to, she tried to squirm away from him, but like when she was on the floor, she didn’t get far. The only difference was that this time instead of picking her up and tossing her about, he sat on the bed and pulled her over to him.
Then, to her shock, he stroked first her clean but unkempt hair and then her shoulder. She could almost swear she heard him whisper, “I’m sorry.”
The moment of closeness didn’t last. His muscles suddenly tense, he rolled her onto her back and straddled her, his weight pressing down on her belly. Knowing it wouldn’t do her any good, she put up no battle as he untied her right hand, hauled it over her head and fastened it to the metal headboard. When he was satisfied with its placement, he did the same to her left. Her arms weren’t in danger of being pulled out of their sockets, which meant she could put up with the position for a long time, something he undoubtedly knew.
She saw the ball gag coming; she just couldn’t do anything about it. Oh, she whipped her head away, but his fingers in her hair brought her back around. Although she clenched her teeth together when he pressed the red ball against her lips, his fingers pinching her nose so limited her ability to breathe that she instinctively opened her mouth. Then he lifted her head and tightened the straps at the back. As if that wasn’t enough, he wrapped black tape around and around her mouth and the gag until it covered her from just beneath her nose to her chin.
When she spotted the hated blindfold, she thrashed her head about, and if she could have bitten him she would have happily drawn blood. However, despite her desperate efforts, it didn’t take long for him to close her in darkness, and as light faded, she slid into that nothing place where serenity lived. She’d stay there. No matter what he did to her, she’d refuse to come out, refuse to respond.
He stood up again and with his weight no longer pulling her onto her side, she settled onto her back and waited. She also saw herself as she had no doubt the camera did, a nearly faceless and naked woman secured to a bed and helpless to prevent whatever her captor decided to do to her.
“She is a beauty,” Reeve was saying in that stilted tone she’d heard earlier. “After all my preparation, I wanted my first time with her to be as perfect as I could make it. I trust that whoever sees this will agree I chose well.”
His voice seemed to be coming closer so maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised when he rested his hand on her left breast. Just the same, her heart lurched. “I’m hoping it won’t be long before you can see her lovely face, but as I already pointed out, I have my reasons for maintaining public anonymity.” He closed his fingers around her nipple. “I’m a man who believes in putting all his cards on the table so I’m going to spell out my concerns. Although I’ve certainly paid enough for my personal anonymity, I’d be a fool to assume that money is all it takes. Until I have no doubt that this adult site is as private as I’ve been led to believe, I’m keeping both this location and my slave’s identity to myself. The last thing I want or need is law enforcement at the door.” A stretching sensation told her he was pulling up on her breast, undoubtedly for the camera’s benefit.
“That concern aside, my goal remains the same—to be accepted by a segment of society I have a considerable amount in common with. I understand the need for a testing or preview process. I wouldn’t be interested in joining an association such as yours if the onl
y criteria were the financial ability to pay the dues, plus the necessary slave.”
He was still pulling up on her nipple, making it difficult for her to concentrate on words vital to her understanding of what this was about. Concerned that he’d forgotten her while concentrating on his speech, she moaned and shifted as best as she could.
“Ah, the creature responds. I hope my audience will take note of her reactions. After all, they’re key to my acceptance.”
The pressure on her nipple let up a little. “I appreciate the guidelines I was sent,” he continued. “Having a clear-cut standard before me allowed me to see how far I could and was required to go. I must say the boundaries are liberal enough to satisfy my darkest desires. Most likely this creature won’t agree, but then her compliance isn’t necessary or even desired, is it?”
Oh shit, what was he talking about, and to who? The sense that she’d become a nonentity, a faceless body, grew.
“I’m particularly fond of breast restraints. With that in mind, I selected a creature with large boobs because they show so well in bondage. I would have preferred natural boobs, but they’re hard to come by. Be as that may, I assure you that this creature’s are both sensitive and responsive.”
When he released her nipple, the renewed blood flow caused her to catch her breath. Doubtless, the camera had picked up the sound, but who was listening? What was that he’d said about her breasts showing well in bondage? If only she could see what he had in mind she might be able to anticipate, to erect her defenses.
A snapping sound she knew all too well froze her. It was close enough to her ear that she had no doubt he was deliberately torturing her with it. “Silver clamps,” he said. “It’s a shame she won’t be able to see how perfectly they contrast with her flawless flesh, but maybe it’s better this way. She’ll have no choice but to concentrate on sensation. See how she’s holding her breath. She knows what’s going to happen, and yet she doesn’t. I intend to keep her off balance as much as possible because I’m convinced that the unknown has limitless possibilities when it comes to fully training a sex slave.”
