Claiming My Sweet Captive

by Julia Sykes

  She squirmed in my hold. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested, her voice high with mounting fear.

  Good. I wanted her fear. I wanted her tears.

  I wanted her completely under my control.

  She beat her fists against my lower back, but her blows felt like little more than a massage. When that accomplished nothing, she thrashed, desperate to fight her way free. “No! Please.”

  She’d beg a lot more before I was finished with her. She’d scream for mercy until she couldn’t form the words to plead with me.

  I’d show her who was Master and who was slave. I’d treated her with too much affection, and she’d become spoiled.

  I manhandled her down onto the spanking bench, positioning her with ruthless force. I teetered on the edge of violence, and only the knowledge that I was about to extract her pain with my whip kept me from bruising her with my hands as I strapped her in place.

  “What did I do wrong?” she sobbed. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t. Please.”

  Once she was fully bound beneath me, I paused to stare down at my captive, my possession. She really was lovely. Her eyes were sparkling with fear, her trapped body trembling. All for me.

  I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and the jagged edges of my dark thoughts smoothed slightly. Touching the leather restraints that pinned her in place grounded me. She was in my power.

  I brushed my fingertips over the warm wetness spilling down her cheek. She tried to turn her face away, but there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn’t escape me.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I promise I didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t hurt me.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” The promise tumbled out before I really thought about it, my desire to soothe her automatic. “Much," I amended.

  Her tears fell in thick streams, running over the backs of my fingers.

  “Hush now,” I cajoled, stroking her shaking body. “This isn’t a punishment.”

  “But you’re angry,” she said tremulously. “You’re going to hurt me.”

  “I’m not angry with you. My brother…”

  She winced, and I realized my fingers had firmed on her skin, pressing too hard.

  I didn’t want to talk about Cristian. I wouldn’t tell her the horrific torture he had planned for her if I didn’t succeed in bending her to my will.

  I drew in another breath and resumed petting her, treating her gently now that I had her bound and at my mercy. “I need to accelerate your training. My brother is not a patient man.”

  She tensed, so I shifted my attention to her silky hair, running my fingers through it in the way she liked. When I did this in our bed, she practically purred. It would work to calm her now. She didn’t need to fear Cristian when I was here to keep her safe.

  “I’ll protect you,” I promised. “But I’ve been too indulgent with you. You must learn your place.”

  “So, you’re going to beat me,” she said in soft accusation.

  “I’m going to train you,” I countered. “You will experience a little pain, but you will enjoy it. I know you will. You like your spankings. You’ll like this, too.”

  She might not have recognized the peace in her surrender after the first time I’d whipped her, but she understood submission a little better now. She’d come to learn that there was release in pain.

  “I don’t want you to flog me again,” she whispered.

  That was exactly what I intended to do. I just needed her to settle first. “I don’t want you to be scared of me, cosita.”

  “I thought you like it when I’m frightened,” she said bitterly.

  The moment soured slightly, and for some reason, I found it difficult to meet her eye. “That doesn’t mean I want you to fear me. But yes, a part of me likes your fear.”

  “Please, let me up,” she begged. “You don’t have to do this.”

  I focused on her again, imposing my will on her. “Yes, I do. It’s for your own good.”

  I cupped her nape, squeezing her neck slightly to ground her in my control. She didn’t need to worry about what was going to happen, because she was powerless to stop me. All she could do was submit.

  “You’ll like this.” There was a ring of command in the words. She would enjoy it. I would train her to love my whip. “You’ll see. You have to trust me.”

  She’d looked at me with something close to trust before; when I’d suspended her the first time, and when I taught her how to suck my cock.

  This time, her eyes didn’t focus on me as though I was the center of her world. They clouded over, as though she wasn’t seeing me at all. Her skin pebbled, and she shuddered violently as her teeth began to chatter.

  I dropped to my knees beside her, peering into her face. She was staring straight ahead, but she wasn’t looking at me. My stomach twisted, the nausea that had gripped me in the basement returning. Something deep in my chest squeezed to the point of pain.

  “Samantha,” I rasped. “You’re okay. You’re safe with me.”

  “I’m not,” she said, her voice hitching. “I’m scared. You’re scaring me. And you like it.”

  “I don’t.” My own voice wavered as my gut churned. “Not like this. Please. Don’t be afraid.”

  “I don’t want to be in here,” she whispered.

  “All right, cosita. It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  I started murmuring to her in Spanish, not really paying attention to what I was saying. All I wanted was to soothe her. I wanted her to look at me again. I wanted her to smile.

  Her skin was too cold beneath my hands as I unbuckled the straps that held her down. When she was free, I cuddled her close, trying to lend her some of my body heat.

  The squeezing sensation in my chest eased slightly when she tucked her face against me and curled her fingers into my shirt, clinging to me as she sobbed in relief.

  I carried her back into the bedroom and settled down on the edge of the bed, holding her in my lap. She remained chilled, so I rubbed my hands all over her body, until her goose bumps began to subside.

  I was still talking to her in my native tongue, a few unbidden apologies slipping in between the words meant to comfort.

  Finally, she blinked and looked up at me.

  The last of the tension left my chest on a heavy exhale. I pressed my lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. “I was worried about you.” My arms tightened around her, holding her closer. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You did,” she countered quietly. “You wanted to see me cry. You wanted to hear me scream.”

  My eyes dropped from hers again. Something burned in my stomach. It felt a little like shame. “I do want those things from you, Samantha,” I admitted. “But not like this. I won’t break you. I won’t.” I was barely aware that I spoke the last aloud.

  “I don’t want this,” she said, her voice small. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be tamed. I don’t want to work for your brother.”

  My gaze snapped back to her face. She would stay here with me. She would be tamed.

  And she would work for my brother.

  “You don’t have a choice in that,” I said, still unwilling to tell her Cristian’s terrible plans for her if I failed. “Neither of us do,” I added bitterly, more words dropping from my lips without thought.

  Her brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  Instead of answering her, I crushed my lips to hers. She parted for me on a surprised gasp, and my tongue surged inside her mouth, desperate to taste her. My kiss was hard, demanding. I didn’t relent until she finally softened against me, her creamy skin flushing with warmth.

  Samantha was safe in my arms. Safe from my brother, and safe from my darker urges.

  Chapter 13

  I resolved to stay with Samantha for the rest of the day. After her panic, I needed to know that she was content and calm.

  She seemed much happier now, snuggled up against my side as I read her graphic novel a
long with her. I had to admit that Watchmen was intriguing, but it mostly captivated my attention because she was enamored with the story. I wanted to understand her better, to ease her transition into her new life with me.

  I never wanted to see her mindless with terror again, especially not at my hands.

  I realized I’d been turning the pages, reading at my own pace instead of accommodating her. I glanced down at her to assess her mood, hoping she wasn’t falling into listlessness after the intense scene in the playroom.

  She was staring up at me, her eyes scanning my face.

  “Am I more interesting than your superheroes?” I asked, ruffling her hair.

  “Anti-heroes,” she corrected me. “Well, some of them, anyway. That’s what makes them interesting.”

  “Then why are you looking at me?”

  She shrugged. “I already read it. I know the story.”

  I set the book aside. “Then I’ll get you a different one. I don’t want you to be bored.”

  “I’m not. You can keep reading it.”

  My smile twisted. “I don’t want to read right now. Not when you’re watching me like that, my curious gatita.” I took her hand and pressed it against my growing erection.

  Her pupils dilated, and her cheeks flushed pink as her own arousal rose in response. I’d conditioned her well, and she reacted to my needs beautifully.

  I gripped her waist and shifted her body off mine. “On your hands and knees.”

  She didn’t hesitate to comply. There was something different about her now; something had shifted between us in the last few hours. She was softer, sweeter. Almost needy in the way she stared at me, waiting for my next command.

  I traced the line of her spine, communicating my pleasure with her. “You are so beautiful,” I murmured. “Stay.”

  She let out a little sigh as I stepped away, but she didn’t move from her position. If anything, she seemed to relax into her submissive pose, her head dropping forward as her ass lifted in offering to me.

  It only took me a minute to go to the chest of drawers and retrieve the items I wanted, but that short time of separation seemed to trouble her. By the time I returned, fresh tension had gripped her body, even though she remained still and compliant.

  “Settle, cosita.” I smoothed my hand down her back, and she relaxed instantly. “I’m not going to restrain you, so you’re going to have to be very good for me.” Her head dipped forward again, exposing her nape to me, making her fully vulnerable. “Just like that,” I approved.

  “I want you to trust me,” I confessed. After her bout of horror, I never wanted her to look at me like that again: like I was the villain, the monster.

  “So, I’m going to trust you, too,” I continued. “I’m going to trust you to stay in position for me. I wanted to tie you down so you wouldn’t be able to move away from me. It’s safer for you if you stay still. That way, I won’t inflict pain unintentionally.”

  I anticipated her renewed tension at the mention of pain, and I shushed her before anxiety could grip her. “You’ll like this. I’ll make sure you do, I promise. But you have to trust me. Can you do that for me?” The question was edged with strain. Her response was everything to me. I craved her affirmation.

  She remained silent for agonizing seconds. I could simply restrain her and whip her, regardless of her wishes. But that would be a hollow victory. My control wouldn’t be real if I used force against her. Her submission wouldn’t be real.

  Finally, she spoke. “Yes. I can trust you.”

  Warmth expanded in my chest, and my lips split in a wide grin. My pleasure was more than twisted satisfaction at her capitulation; this was unadulterated joy. It felt strange and hot and bright, and I quickly became intoxicated by the foreign emotion. No one had ever made me feel like this. It made me crave her all the more. This was what I wanted from her: this sweet perfection.

  My touch eased down her back, over the curve of her bottom, before tracing the line of her soft folds. She moaned and pushed back, welcoming me to press inside. I slowly penetrated her tight channel with my fingers. Her body began to rock slightly, so I pumped in and out of her to stimulate her in the way she liked.

  While she fell into lust, I picked up the lubed anal plug that I’d prepared and placed on the nightstand. She didn’t seem to have noticed it, but it certainly got her attention when I pressed it against her virgin asshole.

  She stilled and stared back at me, her pretty features slack with surprise.

  “Trust me,” I urged. “This will feel good.”

  I withdrew my fingers from her sheath so I could play with her clit, distracting her from the discomfort of the unyielding red plug pressing against her puckered bud. As I traced teasing circles around her hard clit, her tight ring of muscles eased. The plug slipped inside, barely penetrating her. I worked it in slowly, careful not to damage her as I stretched her tight hole. I wanted her to associate this with pleasure, not pain.

  She surrendered her most vulnerable area to me, flowering open and accepting the intrusion of the plug. Little moans and panting noises filled the bedroom, soft sounds of perverted desire and sweet submission.

  When the plug entered her at its widest point, she whined in discomfort. I rubbed her clit more firmly, not easing the pressure. She’d learn to take much larger plugs than this during the course of her training.

  “Almost there,” I assured her. “You’re doing so well. You’re going to love taking my cock in your ass, once you’re properly prepared.”

  The plug sank all the way inside her, stretching her in a way she’d never experienced. She continued to draw in panting breaths as she struggled to adjust to the intrusion.

  Keeping my thumb on her clit, I dipped my forefinger back into her wet cunt. She groaned as I slid into her sheath, filling her up in both virgin holes. Her muscles contracted around my finger, and I knew she was about to orgasm.

  “Come for me.” I increased the pressure of my thumb on her clit as I found the sweet spot at the front of her inner walls. She shattered on a shriek, her body clamping down on my finger. I bit back a groan as my own desire crested. I could hardly imagine the ecstasy I’d experience if her hot little pussy squeezed my dick so tightly.

  I didn’t relent until she gasped against the sheets, struggling to find air after screaming out her completion.

  “Stay just like that,” I ordered, my voice thick with my own desire. “Don’t move.”

  I picked up the crop where I’d laid it on the bed behind her. She was too drunk on lust to notice my actions, and she cried out in shock when I delivered the first smack against her ass. She jerked to attention, her eyes jumping to mine.

  Her cry melted into the sexiest moan, her gaze locking on my face. The way she stared at me was intoxicating; her sky-blue eyes fixated on me with something like awe. A rush of pleasure and lust flooded my being. There was nothing twisted about my satisfaction, no dark taint of cruel triumph. She’d incited a matching sense of wonder in me. In this moment, she’d placed herself completely in my power, trusting me and ceding to me willingly.

  I touched the leather tongue of the crop beneath her chin, lifting her face. “I like when you look at me like this. My kinky virgin.”

  I slid the crop up to her lips to let her taste the leather, intending to overwhelm all her senses. Desire tore through me when she tenderly kissed the implement I would use to paint her ass red. She wanted the pain, the pleasure. She wanted everything I had to give her, would accept anything I chose to do to her.

  I wouldn’t violate her trust. I wouldn’t risk shattering it by using her cruelly.

  “You please me, Samantha. Very much.”

  She let out a little happy humming noise and licked the length of the crop, worshipping it the same way she showed reverence to my cock. My arousal sharpened to something almost painful, but my pleasure with her overshadowed any discomfort.

  “You like the crop? You’re not scared of it? You’re not scared of me?”
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  “No,” she moaned, lifting her ass in wanton invitation. “Please.”

  I laughed, the sound of my delight rolling from my chest. “All right, greedy gatita. Don’t move.”

  I tapped her ass with the crop, letting her get a feel for the light sting. She let out a long sigh, and her head dropped forward as she surrendered fully. I struck her again, harder. She didn’t cry out or shift away, so I increased the intensity, giving her a harsher bite with each lash.

  Her entire body relaxed, and her eyes slid closed. She didn’t so much as flinch or grunt in pain. Her breathing turned deep and even, and I knew she was beginning to find her blissful, quiet headspace, freed from her frenetic thoughts.

  “Andrés.” She’d never moaned my name like that, her voice husky with need.

  I dropped the crop and leaned over her, so I could murmur in her ear. In her current state, she’d give me anything I demanded of her. “I could fuck you right now, couldn’t I, kinky virgin? Your tight little pussy would welcome my cock.”

  “Andrés, please…”

  “You shouldn’t say my name like that, sirenita,” I warned. The way she was moaning and begging took me to the edge of my control. “You really shouldn’t.” I cursed and unbuckled my belt, aching for relief. “Open your mouth.”

  Her lips parted, her eyes fluttering open as I surged inside. I slid all the way to the back of her throat, unable to rein myself in. Taking her mouth was the only way I’d be able to restrain myself from claiming her cunt.

  She accepted all of me, her body well-trained to handle my size, my demands. My fingers tightened in her hair, and I held myself deep for a few seconds before sliding back, allowing her to breathe.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” I told her roughly, surging forward again. “The way I want to fuck your little pussy. But not today. Not when you’re like this.” She was barely lucid right now, her mind lost to my will. I wouldn’t take her virginity when she wouldn’t really be aware of what she was offering to me. I couldn’t bear to lose this trust she was placing in me.

  I held her face in both hands, my fingers threaded into her hair as I used her mouth the way I wanted. She encouraged my rough treatment, swirling her tongue around my cock and sucking me.