Take Me, Daddy: A Contemporary Romance 5-Book Box Set

by Nicole Casey

  An icy chill shivered down my spine at the thought because the answer was clear, and far more terrifying than I could have imagined not so long ago. He wanted everything. He wasn’t content to rape me and then leave me alone. If that was what he’d wanted, he would have gotten it over with by now. Forcing me to submit, to obey him…he didn’t just want my body. He wanted my soul.

  It was too bad for him there wasn’t much of one left for him to take. But he didn’t care—whole or broken, he’d take it all.

  “When I return, I expect you to greet me in this position. Always. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I said, a little too eagerly. But if he was going to return, that also meant he was going to leave. I might still be trapped here, but at least I would be alone.

  He chuckled, obviously not missing the eagerness in my tone. But he caressed my cheek once more, and then he was leaving. Across the room, at the door, and then he was gone.

  When I heard the scrape of the lock, I breathed a sigh of relief and sprang to my feet. He couldn’t damn well make me kneel if he wasn’t here, could he? And I wrapped the blanket back around my body, pulling so tight when I tucked the edge between my breasts that it felt like an old-fashioned corset, cinching my breasts together. I didn’t care. It felt like armor, and I was glad to have it back on. Exactly how long I’d have it on before he made me take it off again, I didn’t know. But I intended to have a better plan than to cry and obey him figured out before he returned.

  3

  Derek

  “So, how is our lovely, new slave?” Marcos queried as he sat back in the wing-backed leather chair, with one of his more recent acquisitions kneeling at his feet. The girl was plain, certainly nothing like the girl I’d left not long ago in the training room. But this one had submitted quickly and easily under Marcos’ guidance, and that was the way he liked it.

  And that’s the way I usually liked it too, at least as far as work was concerned. Usually. It was easy—breaking something that was so weakly held together it crumbled with the slightest touch. Easy. And boring. Of course, something about it always appealed to me—making something submit, to bend it to my will. How could it not? But it was always unfulfilling in the end.

  Now though, after just a few minutes with the fiery, new temptress…it seemed things might get interesting.

  “She’s more than I could have hoped for,” I replied honestly, thinking Marcos was missing out with his penchant for the weak-willed and weak-minded.

  “I’m glad to hear it, but what I want to know is your assessment of her.”

  I laughed, but I wasn’t surprised. “I think she’s not typical of the girls you usually give me, but we knew there was a decent chance of that. She’s manageable and I have no doubt it will work out just fine.”

  He eyed me for a minute, but he let it go at that. The girl wasn’t the first atypical slave I’d trained, and she likely wouldn’t be the last. Just an interesting and arousing bump in the road.

  “So, what do you have planned for her next then?” he queried with a little more interest than usual. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had noticed the girl was unique.

  “Dinner,” I said, and it sounded simple enough. I smiled, knowing things were never quite what they seemed.

  I rose to leave, but then paused. “Has Donovan been informed?”

  Marcos glanced at his watch. “Any time now.”

  Good. There was no backing out now—not that I had any intention of it. With that knowledge, I left the room, going in search of what I would need next.

  And ten minutes later, I unlocked the door and wheeled the cart and chair inside. Closing the door behind me, I glanced around, but the girl was nowhere in sight. The shower was running in the other room though, so I had a good idea where she was. And she either hadn’t heard me come in, or else she’d already forgotten the lesson from just a few hours before.

  I left the tray and chair by the door and followed the sound and the billowing steam into the bathroom, but the scene wasn’t what I’d expected. It was strange enough to think she’d decided to grab a shower so soon, but she wasn’t even in the shower. She stood just a few feet from it, wrapped in the damn blanket I should have taken with me. She was barely visible through the steam, but as I got closer, I saw the moisture glistening on her skin. She’d turned the room into a fucking sauna. Did she think this was a day at the spa?

  “What are you doing?” I asked, keeping my tone light, amused.

  She whirled around, startled to find me there so close behind her. The look of panic and indecision on her face was priceless, but it did seem that what I’d told her before I left had slipped her mind. That, or she was a glutton for punishment—not that I minded.

  She remained there on her feet, staring back at me defiantly, though I could see the way her lower jaw trembled. I cocked an eyebrow, giving her one last chance to use some common sense.

  She didn’t take it.

  She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin higher, but it had none of the desired effect when her whole body was trembling in fear. It was amusing though. Almost cute. Like one of those pint-sized dogs barking at a pit bull. The pint-sized pup didn’t know it, but everyone else could plainly see that the pit bull could rip it to shreds without breaking a sweat.

  “So, you’ve decided to be difficult, have you? I can be difficult too, Pet,” I said as I reached for her.

  She pulled her arm out of reach and tried to sidestep me. But not only was I stronger than her, I was faster too. I grabbed hold of her around the waist and yanked off the damn blanket—and made a mental note to take the thing with me this time. And then I dragged her out of the bathroom to the bed.

  I shackled her wrists to the restraints protruding from the mattress and her whole body stiffened in anticipation of what she thought was about to come.

  Shame on me if I was ever that predictable.

  I chuckled and left her there while I went to retrieve the cart and chair I’d brought in, and I pulled them over next to her, just out of her reach. She tried to angle her body away from me, which only emphasized her slender curves. She was scared, no doubt still waiting for the lash of the belt, but she was also clearly confused. Good.

  I removed the lid from the tray and breathed in deep. As always, the food was exquisite. And by the way she stilled, she was beginning to realize what was going on. She’d lost several hours unconscious on the trip here, and then several more since then. While her mind wasn’t fully cognizant of the time that had passed, her body was becoming abruptly aware that nearly twenty-four hours had gone by since she’d last eaten.

  “I had intended to be kind, to reward your obedience. I was going to feed you, Pet. You are hungry, aren’t you?”

  She glared at me, but her nostrils flared, taking in the delicious aroma.

  “Answer me,” I growled.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes…I’m hungry.”

  “And after the fit you threw—after you disobeyed me—do you think I should feed you?”

  “Yes,” she barked.

  “Is that so? Then what would stop you from disobeying me again?” I took a bite of the food on the plate.

  She squeezed her lips together. She refused to beg for forgiveness, and of course, she was stubborn, so she couldn’t agree with me.

  I took another bite, and another. Her stomach growled, but to her credit, she didn’t make a sound, and she barely moved a muscle. Only her eyes moved, following the fork from the plate to my mouth, over and over again. Even when she could see that the last few bites were going fast, she held strong.

  When all the food was gone, her shoulders slumped just a little. I’d been hoping she would have put her pride aside for the sake of basic human survival, but I couldn’t say I was actually disappointed. It was just too much fun to watch the exquisite girl battle it out in her head. She was most certainly shaping up to be the challenge I’d hoped for.

 
I re-covered the tray with the lid and wheeled it to the door and out of the room. While I’d debated leaving her shackled there, I couldn’t help but think of the steamy scene I’d walked in on, and I was curious what she would do next if left unshackled and to her own devices. I left the chair, too, just to add something new to the mix.

  As I approached her, she slunk back, still anticipating the spanking that wouldn’t come—at least, not yet. I caressed her cheek when she could slink no further away. She had incredibly soft skin, and I couldn’t deny that I was more than a little tempted to keep touching her just to feel her silken flesh beneath my fingers.

  I could see it in her eyes when she started to debate whether to sink her teeth into my hand. I’d seen Vito’s hand—her teeth were a powerful weapon, indeed—but she thought better of it and kept her lips clamped shut.

  That was a good sign. She could have easily done it—at least, she would have thought she could—but she already feared the consequences of such a reckless action. Stubborn, but not stupid. I was liking my new slave more every minute.

  Without a word, I unshackled her wrists, half-expecting her to lunge at me with teeth bared. But she didn’t move. She eyed me warily as I turned away, and I could feel her eyes boring into my back as I strode out of the room.

  I adjusted my cock once I’d closed the door. The girl was the most appealing sight I could remember, but we were just getting started.

  I sighed, thinking of the slaves Marcos kept in the house. I could use one now to take the edge off, but somehow it seemed like a poor substitute for what I had in store.

  When I returned in the morning and wheeled in the tray laden with food, I was only half-surprised to find her in the bathroom again. The water in the shower was running but there was no steam billowing out into the other room this time. Either she was running it on cold, or else she’d left it running for so many hours that the hot water had run out.

  I felt an odd pang when I went to investigate and found her huddled in the corner with her knees drawn up and her head tilted to the side. She was asleep, but the tears she’d cried had dried on her cheeks. Beneath the fan of her eyelids, the delicate skin was darker, the result of a combination of fatigue and a lack of food.

  Her hair was dry though, suggesting she hadn’t made use of the shower. But then, why did she have it running? It was odd, and it made me curious, but there would be time enough for answers. Right now, she needed to abandon her hard-headedness for the sake of her health.

  “Wake up,” I said, none too gently. I wasn’t there to hold her hand.

  She startled awake, but she remained where she was, huddled in the corner.

  “You’ve been a fool and you’re suffering unnecessarily. I’m done tolerating it. Kneel. Now.”

  She acquiesced more readily than I’d expected, though fatigue and hunger could do a lot to one’s resolve—I would know.

  Her shoulders were slumped and her arms hung limply over her body in a half-hearted attempt to cover herself.

  Her fatigue was too pronounced. Something wasn’t right.

  “When was the last time you ate?” I asked, beginning to suspect the cause.

  She stared blankly at the floor.

  “When?” I demanded.

  “Last…last night. At dinner. At home,” she replied quietly.

  But that wasn’t right—her sense of time would have been distorted, so I had to extrapolate what that really meant. Dinner—at home. The last time she’d been home was the morning before her shift on the day she’d been taken. And dinner at home meant the night before that. And that meant when she’d stubbornly refused to submit when I’d come with food yesterday evening, she’d already gone forty-eight hours without food. And now, twelve hours later, the fool had gone somewhere around sixty hours without food.

  I was very particular in the taking of any new girl. She was to be surveilled, and every aspect of the day leading up to the event recorded for me. Vito had reported that she’d eaten at the store where she worked just prior to her leaving work. If the girl was telling the truth though—which by her physical state, it suggested she was—it meant Vito had lied to me. No doubt, he’d lied to punish the girl for biting him. But I didn’t give a fuck what his god damned reason was. The son of a bitch had lied. To me. And I’d make sure he didn’t make that mistake twice.

  For now though, I had the problem in front of me to rectify. I turned off the shower and retrieved the cart from the other room, actually wheeling it right into the bathroom. The girl needed food, and I wasn’t going to risk her defying me further and having to withhold it.

  With an air of nonchalance, I removed the lid from the tray and proceeded to cut up the food. I shoved a forkful in front of her lips, half-expecting to have to force it into her mouth. But her lips parted and she snatched the food off, chewing greedily. And too fast.

  “Slowly,” I cautioned, and filled the fork again, though with half as much food this time.

  She devoured the entire plate, though it took quite a bit of time since I started to insist she wait in between bits, in part to make her wait, and part because a stomach that empty could turn quickly—another fact I knew all too well.

  I left when she was done, fully expecting her next feeding to go smoothly after getting past this first battle.

  But I’d expected too much. With her body no longer weak from starvation, the fire in her reignited. She was in her corner in the bathroom with the shower running again when I returned, but the moment I walked in, the stubborn light shined bright in her eyes.

  I didn’t relish the idea of leaving her with no food—she really did need it after so much time without. But when she glared back at me when I told her to kneel, she left me with no choice. So, I held off on dinner as long as I could and wheeled the cart right into the bathroom—where I knew she would be.

  “Kneel,” I said, letting my fingers hover over the belt around my waist.

  She glared at me, but she also did what she was told—a fucking miracle, given the same stubborn light had flashed in her eyes. It seemed then, with the way she’d moved quickly after the threat of the belt, that she feared physical discipline more than starvation. And that meant a firm hand would be what this one needed.

  And I was more than happy to accommodate that need.

  4

  Scarlett

  I had no idea how many days passed. There was no way for me to keep track—no clock, no window to see outside. Nothing. But what I did know with increasing certainty was I had winded up straight in hell. The man who kept bringing me food, making me kneel like an animal at his feet and spanking my backside with a hard slap whenever I hesitated—he was the devil himself. He was cruel, and worst of all, the thing I hated most was that he left me alone in my prison with nothing but the god damned silence.

  I couldn’t stand it. No sounds of cars in the distance or bird chirping outside. Not even footsteps or the low murmur of voices to suggest I was anything other than completely alone.

  I’d debated provoking him over and over again, just to give him a reason to stay, a reason to talk. Hell, the sound of his breathing was better than the utter nothingness that surrounded me when he left.

  During some meals, he would ask me things, questions like my favorite book and my favorite movie, and so long as I handed over whatever he wanted to know, he kept asking questions, staving off the silence I knew was coming. But the moment he ventured into personal territory and I refused to answer, he left. And the world was silent again.

  The shower helped a little. At least, it did at first. But an hour or two of the monotonous sound of running water and it seemed to blur right into the nothingness. I couldn’t keep going like this. It was going to drive me mad.

  Maybe that’s what he was trying to do. At first, when those men had stripped me and the devil had spanked me with his belt, I’d assumed what he wanted was sexual in nature. But now, even though I was forced to remain naked all the time, I wasn’t so sure. In the times he
was here, feeding me like a dog and making my blood boil with anger and humiliation, I thought maybe what he wanted was a pet. But then he’d leave and wouldn’t return until it was time to feed me again. Who the hell only wanted a pet to feed it?

  So, all I could conclude was that he was merely feeding me to keep me alive so he could watch me slowly go insane.

  It was almost time for another feeding. I could tell by the way my stomach had begun to rumble. He must come at regular intervals to have my stomach so well-trained. It irritated me that any part of me had come to submit to him, but my stomach had willingly gotten on board that train.

  No other part of me had though. It was still a humiliating struggle every time to go down on my knees, to open my mouth and let him feed me like an infant. The worst was when he did touch me, not sexually—aside from swatting my backside, he never did that—but intimately.

  He would stroke my hair or caress my cheek. And what made it so horrible was that not once had I ever pulled away. His touch felt…good, and I hated that. But after so much time with no sound, no new sights, no anything, my body seemed desperate for sensation. And the touch of my captor’s hand against my face was better than the nothingness. I was ashamed to admit it, but there were times when I’d secretly wished he’d touch me more, in new places. A hand on my arm, or his fingers on the back of my neck—new sensations to hold me over during the times when there was none.

  Still, I wanted to scream at him—for humiliating me, for touching me, for not touching me, for asking me things and never sharing any answers of his own—and I nearly had so many times, but I held myself in check, knowing at any time he could stop coming back. The food would be gone and I’d starve to death. Much longer here though, and that might not be such a terrible thing.