by Kitty Thomas
Relieved tears flowed out of her. The man in the basement hadn't been controlled. He'd just beaten her in a wild out-of-control savagery. Even though Ari was whipping her, it wasn't like that. The scar was just a fucked-up coincidence. It wasn't the same guy. More relieved tears.
“Count,” he reminded her, gently when she stopped.
“S-six,” she said.
He stroked her back. She shivered as he ran his tongue over the warm welts she felt rising on her flesh. They throbbed a little. The throb echoed the growing pulse in her pussy.
“Claire, I need you to stay with me. Focus and count. We're almost done. You're doing so well.”
She tried to stay with him and focus, but there were so many things in her head fighting for dominance. And despite the pain, every time the whip landed, she just became more aroused. Everything about this man was different. She wanted him like she'd never wanted anyone.
But she didn't deserve him after what she'd done to him. And maybe he didn't deserve her after what he was doing to her now. But she didn't care. She wanted him.
Claire counted the last few lashes. She cringed, expecting the tenth to be the worst, but it wasn't. It was the same. They were all the same. Perfectly controlled precise movements laying rows of warm welts across her back. In a way, it was almost comforting.
“Such a good girl,” he said. “You are so perfect.”
So perfectly fucked-up. But she didn't dare say it out loud.
He released the bonds first at her ankles, then her waist, then her wrists. She was shocked she couldn't hold herself up, but he caught her when she fell back.
“Adrenaline dump,” he whispered. “Close your eyes and don't open them again until I tell you to.”
She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs, down what felt like a long hallway, and finally back into another room. Even though her eyes were closed, she knew he'd taken her past windows because of how bright it was even behind her eyelids.
“You can open them now,” he said as he laid her down on a soft bed.
She opened her eyes. They were back in his room. He'd laid her down on his bed, not her own at the top of the stairs.
“Stay,” he commanded.
Claire lay there, looking up at the chains hanging from his ceiling over the bed. They hung from so many different points that he seemed to have unlimited options when it came to chaining a girl to his bed.
That thought shouldn't make her so excited. It should terrify and repulse her.
Ari returned before she could replay the track of This is so wrong and I'm so terrible for wanting him to touch me.
“Roll onto your stomach.”
“M-Master?”
He held up a tube of aloe gel. “It's for your back.”
She nodded and rolled over, her head resting on one of the huge fluffy pillows while he applied the cooling gel. His touch was light and careful as he rubbed it into her skin.
“I'm not a sadist. I don't like causing excessive pain,” he said. “What I want is absolute control and your complete and total obedience. I will use pain as a tool if I need to use it, but I don't want to use it. Now tell me. Who do you belong to?”
As if that were even a question anymore.
“You, Master,” she whispered. She knew she should, but it was too hard to fight this. It felt so easy to just let go of all the darkness that had been drowning her for so long. She was still afraid he'd torture or kill her. Why wouldn't he?
Only a day ago, she'd sat with a knife on her lap, contemplating the grisly details of this man's murder, and now she was his captive instead. Somehow in this short time, she was calling him Master, as if this were some completely normal thing. As if every moment in her life both good and bad had been building to this.
She didn't want to let herself believe this man could be decent to her. What he was doing wasn't right but... it was hard to think she didn't deserve some sort of retribution for her actions. And was it even retribution when she was about to come out of her skin from the need to be touched by him? Her body didn't seem to register any of this as punishment.
The things she'd done were so wrong, and the way he'd treated her by comparison was far better than she should expect.
Claire tried to shove those thoughts away. The small unexpected ways he'd been kind to her, combined with the attraction she'd tried to suppress for too long were creating feelings and desires she didn't know what to do with.
She arched closer to him as he stroked the side of her hip and over the curve of her ass. Then he trailed fingertips from one ankle, up her leg... He didn't even get to the top of her thigh before he reached the evidence of her arousal sliding down to meet his welcoming fingers.
“Do you need to come, little one?”
She couldn't stop herself from giving him the truth. “Yes, Master,” she breathed, drawing one knee up, exposing herself further to him, her body begging him to give her the pleasure she'd been denied for far too long.
She let out a strangled gasp when he started to stroke between her legs. She hadn't quite believed he would really touch her there, that he would let her feel pleasure after all the pain she'd given him. She didn't care how wrong it was, she needed him inside her. She wanted him to bend her over and fuck her. She needed to forget everything in her life for just a little while. She needed the oblivion that she knew his touch could bring.
Claire moved with him as his fingers pressed deeper inside her. She'd never been this wet in her life. She'd thought she could go without sexual pleasure. She'd been so wrong about that.
Right now she had to come. She didn't care if it was wrong. What difference would these dark fantasies make now? Would it really make anything worse if she surrendered her body to this man's touch?
“Please,” she whimpered. “please... please.”
He pressed one hand against her back. “Be still and let me touch you the way I want to touch you.” Ari held her in place while the fingers of his other hand played over her swollen sex as if she were his instrument and he knew exactly the song he wanted to play. Her hips bucked and rocked with him, her breath coming in heavy pants.
This was so fucking wrong. She was even more turned on by the way he held her down, demanding her complete surrender, insisting on controlling the exact position she laid, the exact angle at which his fingers brushed her sex, not letting her have even the smallest input in how she would get off.
His touch went from gentle teasing to a hard, punishing finger fuck. She was so far gone that the pleasure only mounted higher the more rough his touch became. There wasn't a way he could touch her in this moment that wouldn't result in her climax.
“Come,” he demanded. His voice had gone harder than she'd heard it since her capture. But instead of fear, that guttural command only made her body respond more.
Claire let go of the tenuous string of control she'd been holding and allowed the orgasm to crash over her. The intensity of the sensations he created caused tears to flow down her cheeks.
“Yes,” Ari growled. “Give it all to me. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”
She writhed and moaned, jerking against his fingers until she was wrung out. Until she couldn't come anymore. He finally pulled his hand away.
“Good girl.”
They stared at each other for a long time before he spoke again. “When was the last time, Claire?”
She didn't play dumb. She knew what he was asking. Nobody had an orgasm that hard that quickly and easily unless there had been a drought. That sort of frenzied desperation only came from long denial.
She looked away unable to meet his gaze. “Three years.”
“Three years since your last orgasm, even by yourself?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did it happen when that psychopath had you?” Ari asked. There was something dark and jagged in his voice she couldn't define. His fingers dug hard into her hip as he gripped her. He didn't seem to realize he was
doing it.
She shook her head.
“Are you lying to me, Claire?”
“N-no, Master.”
He let out a sigh and released his grip on her. “Because it's okay if you did. It's not your fault. It doesn't mean you wanted...”
“I know that... but I didn't. The last time was before he took me.”
Ari sighed. “Why? Why haven't you let yourself come? You obviously needed it, so why haven't you touched yourself?”
She pulled away from him and curled in on herself. For the first time, her nudity was becoming a problem. She felt too exposed. She wished he'd stop looking at her like that. It wasn't fair. He had on jeans. And she was left naked and vulnerable, having a conversation she very much did not want to be having.
“Claire...”
“I just can't, okay!”
“Why?”
She shook her head and curled into a tighter ball. She flinched when he touched her back.
“Would you rather tell me or go back to the dungeon? I won't allow you to keep secrets from me.”
Was Ari as bad as that other man? How was he any different? Why did she want him so much? Some sick twisted place inside of her wanted his control. She wanted his demands and his orders. She wanted the implacable absoluteness of him. Even though it was so fucked up. She wanted to just give everything to him.
If this was the way toward absolution, she would do it. The immediate panic over being his captive was receding in light of the way he kept restraining himself with her. She just wanted to obey him. But how could she want that?
It had been so hard holding the pieces of herself together all alone in the world. She'd had no one to confide in. No one to trust. She just didn't want to do it anymore. She couldn't do it anymore. And yet... she couldn't admit this out loud. The deep dark shame that no one else could ever know about.
“Please don't make me talk about this,” she whimpered.
He patted her on the hip. “All right. Come on, let's go back to the dungeon.”
“Master, please...”
“Tell me, then. Why can't you touch yourself?”
“Because I can't get off unless I...” She couldn't say this out loud. It was too fucked up. But Ari had all these whips and chains all over his house. He would understand. He wouldn't judge her... would he? Did she care if he judged her? What he was doing was as disturbed as any of her fantasies. They were both a mess.
“Unless you fantasize about things you can't let yourself think about anymore because of what happened to you?” he asked quietly.
She let out a long shuddering breath and nodded.
“Did you have these fantasies before you were taken?”
“Yes, but they aren't okay anymore.”
He moved so fast she could barely process what had happened. All at once, he had her out of the curled-up ball she'd huddled herself into, flat on her back. He straddled her, staring her down, a hand wrapped around her throat. He wasn't squeezing, just holding her there. But he could squeeze. And they both knew it.
But despite their positions, she got the strangest feeling that Ari didn't truly want to hurt her. He wanted things from her, but he didn't want to damage her in the process. She was beginning to realize his motivation for taking her hadn't been revenge.
She gasped as he held her, her body arching toward him even as she knew a smart woman would be pulling away or struggling or pleading for mercy. She'd only thought she was wrung out. That aching pulsing throb started between her legs again.
Claire's gaze was held hostage in his.
“This excites you, doesn't it? Tell me the truth.”
“Y-yes,” she gasped.
Ari stroked the side of her face. “Good girl. I want you to be excited for me.”
She whimpered and leaned into his touch. She could feel herself falling. She imagined the shattered pieces of herself drifting off into the wind somewhere. And she didn't have the will or energy to chase after them. She just watched it happen. It was easier to give in.
Already she felt more peace as Ari's slave than she'd felt since the moment she'd decided to capture him. Everything that had been wound so tight inside her just released in the face of this new reality.
Ari's voice broke through her thoughts. “My first rule. From now on, every morning when you wake up, you will make yourself come. And you will be loud about it. I want you to moan. I want to hear your release. Every. Morning. Do you understand?”
“I can't... unless I...”
“Unless you let yourself have those fantasies. I know. You will let yourself think those thoughts, and you will come. Every morning. It's the first thing you do from now on when you wake up. Do you understand, little one?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.”
Why did that soft murmur of approval do things to her? Why did she crave hearing it over and over?
Ari got off her and off the bed.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because I need it. And you clearly do, too.”
“But it's so wrong.”
Claire wanted him. She wanted this... whatever this was. But could she really just go along with it? It was different last night when she'd been so afraid he would hurt her. Everything she'd done was for survival. But more and more she felt that he didn't actually want to destroy her. And if that was true, could she let herself... want this?
Ari laughed. “What you did to me was wrong.”
She looked down at her hands. “So is this payback? I hurt you so you hurt me?”
He shook his head. “No. This is me taking what I want and giving you what you need. Fuck morality. It's just you and me now working our fucked-up shit out between us in our own way.”
She wanted to retort that he meant his way, but if that were true, her body wouldn't be crying out for his.
10
Ari pre-heated the oven and put in the leftover pizza from the night before. It was better in the oven on a baking stone. While their food heated, he put a coat on and went out to the garage. He removed the license plate from Claire's car and cut it into pieces with an electric saw, obliterating all the identifying information it contained. When he was finished, he dropped it into one of the trash bags he'd taken from her place and put them in the trash cans. He took the cans to the end of the vast property for pickup.
The long walk gave him time to sort through his thoughts. Ari was pretty sure the place he'd been kept in wasn't her actual home. The whole vibe of the space had seemed far too utilitarian and temporary to be her home. There had been no art or pictures on the walls, no decorative flourishes. It was all too sterile.
He slipped his fingers underneath the collar of his shirt to feel the bandages from the last time she'd whipped him. She was lucky he wanted to save her more than he wanted revenge... despite the payment he intended to extract from her. The plans he had for her were far more merciful than most would offer.
The two of them existed separate from society now. They'd both moved so far outside the realm of the polite rules of the social structure that the law or morality hardly even mattered anymore. None of the carefully crafted rules made sense for them. He felt suddenly like a very alien creature as though he didn't quite fit into this world anymore. He wasn't sure if it was his brief time as a powerless captive or his own actions since then, but the world felt somehow unreal. He felt disconnected from everything but her.
Claire was real in a way not even the biting cold outside could compare to, and he needed to be near her. If he lost her, he might also lose himself. Something had been forged between them in the scars he now carried for her.
He wouldn't abandon her to the world or let her carry the shame she felt over her needs. He could take care of those needs, and he could remove her guilt for needing it in spite of all the events that had led her here.
By the time he returned to the house, the pizza was done. He took it from the oven and put a couple of slices on a plate for his new
pet. The kitchen was extra warm from the heat of the oven. He took off the coat and shirt he'd been wearing and hurriedly ate his own food, leaning over the counter. He had so much work he should be doing right now with the club plans, but Claire was a tempting distraction.
He couldn't believe she'd been wet when he'd touched her. And not just wet, dripping. It had been years since he'd been with a woman that aroused. She wanted him. She'd begged him. Ari had always hated subs who begged for pleasure. He'd always thought it was like a dog begging for scraps—whining and wheedling to get their way. It had annoyed the shit out of him whenever Holly had done it.
But then Holly had done it to manipulate him and distract him from punishments. She was a brat for the attention, but then when she got it, she didn't want the attention she'd earned. She just wanted him to make her come. And he'd far too easily given in to it. It had gotten to the point where all her needs were met, but none of his were. Holly had been the one in control in that relationship, collar or no. There hadn't been any true submission in her. And yet Ari had continued to indulge her—maybe out of boredom or the fear of never finding the right girl.
But when Claire begged for pleasure? Ari bit back a groan. His jeans tightened uncomfortably at the memory of what had happened between them. He wanted Claire to beg. He might have to insist on it.
He grabbed another water bottle and the food and went back to his room. She was lying on her bed in the nook where he'd chained her. She was covered with blankets. Her gaze was filled with hunger when it met his—and not just for food. The wariness was still there though, combined with an uncertainty.
This time she didn't kneel. He found himself disappointed, but she'd been acting from fear before, and he hadn't truly laid out his expectations beyond her daily morning self-care. And she no doubt felt more self-conscious after her first orgasm in three years.
“Kneel,” he said softly.
Claire pulled back the blankets and crawled over to him, stopping on the floor next to his feet. She'd just been waiting for direction, for parameters.