Hyland's Property

by Felicity Brandon

  “Sir.” She added it just in time to save herself.

  “I found out you worked for Saul Morrison and allegedly have been fucking him.”

  Her pretty features screwed into a ball. “Yes, I work for him,” she hissed. “The rest is none of your damn business. I don’t even know who you are.”

  I reached for her, burying my fingers in her soft tresses.

  “Then you weren’t paying attention, little girl,” I murmured. “I already told you, and you should watch your tone.”

  Panic pinballed in her gaze as my digits tightened. “I-I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

  “The after-effects of the sedative, perhaps,” I mused aloud. “Okay, I will offer this one reprieve, Hilary, but think carefully before you speak to me that way again.”

  She nodded as best she could with my fingers buried in her hair.

  “I am Sean, and Zander Hyland was my uncle. The only reason I’m back in this shitty city is Saul Morrison shot him.”

  A glimmer of recognition flickered in her eyes.

  “What does that have to do with me, Sir?”

  “Everything.”

  I eyed her lips, considering kissing her, but thought better of it. This wasn’t the time for shows of ill self-discipline. Hilary was exhausted, dehydrated, and no doubt, confused as she attempted to piece together the jigsaw of recent events. There would be a time to claim her, to take the caress I wanted, but that time wasn’t now. My initial impulses had been to take her for the one thing I badly wanted, but having her gave me a new perspective. Hilary wasn’t going anywhere, so why not play the long game? I could take any woman and fuck her, but holding Hilary, I realized I could have much more than that.

  I could get inside her head.

  I could make her want me, too.

  I could truly make her mine.

  Wouldn’t that be the best dose of revenge as far as Morrison was concerned? To make it evident to him, I could not only make his woman my captive, but I could captivate her as well.

  It would be perfect.

  “You are everything,” I reiterated. “I thought I only wanted a lover, someone to amuse me while I’m stuck in London, but having you here has made me rethink. Maybe I need more than just a plaything. Maybe it’s time things got serious.”

  The words were falling from me now like rainwater from an open gutter, and even I didn’t know how sincere I was at that moment, but I liked the shocked expression on her flawless face, the way she struggled in the binds, and the desperate tone when she answered.

  “Wh-What do you mean, serious?”

  “What was that?” My tone was curt, though holding her head just where I wanted it, I grazed my mouth over her half-open lips. “I didn’t hear you, baby.”

  “Sir.” Her body recoiled to the back of the chair, but of course, there was nowhere for her head to go. She was trapped in the prison of my design. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I intend to make this a permanent arrangement, Hilary. The longer-lasting, the better. Morrison doesn’t deserve a woman like you, and a woman like you doesn’t merit scum like him.”

  “Scum?” Her brow creased. “He’s not scum.”

  “He killed my uncle.” I drew away from her, scowling at her response. “Shot him at point-blank range.”

  “I don’t know all the things that went on,” she mumbled, “but he always treated me well.” She glanced around. “He never tied me up in some crappy room.”

  “More fool him.” I rose to my full height, folding my arms across my chest. “Right now, you’re proving that’s precisely the treatment you need to rid you of this petulance.”

  “Petulance?” she hissed accusingly. “You kidnapped me! You stuck me with some goddamn needle!”

  “Keep it up!” My brow rose at her tone, fury simmering in my veins. Hilary would need to learn her place, and she needed to learn it fast. I had no idea what kind of shit show Morrison ran on the other side of the city, but I wasn’t going to stand for her insolence. “You’ll earn yourself even more time in my chair.”

  “Fuck you!” She pulled against the leather at her wrists, grunting with frustration. “You can’t keep me here. Saul will find me, he’ll find me, and he’ll come for you.”

  That was it. I had heard enough.

  Reaching inside the pocket of my Versace jacket, I fingered the outline of the ball gag, the smallest one on the market, but it would still do its job perfectly. Hilary might look great, but her constant whining was giving me a headache.

  “Is that right?” I took a step toward her, looming over her bound form. “You think lover boy will be able to track you down? You think he’ll give a shit?”

  She rolled her shoulders back, glaring up at me.

  “Damn right, I do,” she snarled. “Saul cares about me. I’m not just a piece of property he can drug and contain. He respects me.”

  I laughed at that. Respect? What did the long-legged blonde know about respect? Hell, she’d been full of it from the first moment I’d laid eyes on her. There was little doubt—Hilary had this coming.

  “Well, good for him,” I replied, circling her body. “Tell me, how does he respect you?”

  Naturally, I didn’t give a damn how he treated her, but querying his behavior would give her another excuse to wax lyrical and me the opportunity to get the ball gag where it needed to be—shoved between the teeth of pretty little Hilary.

  “He asks for my opinion,” she started. “He takes care of—”

  She never had the opportunity to complete that sentence. Turning on my heel, I swiped the gag from my pocket, grabbing the length of leather in both hands and lifting it up and over her head. By the time Hilary saw it coming, it was too late—I had the gag in place, the ball sliding into her mouth as she screeched behind it. I smiled, tightening the buckle at the back of her hair before I wandered around to appraise her.

  “Very nice,” I cooed.

  Bound and gagged, Hilary looked seriously sensational.

  “Here’s the water.”

  I spun at the sound of Johnson’s voice to find the older man lurking in the corner with a glass. He took one look at Hilary, brow rising.

  “What the hell happened, boss? How is she going to drink like that?”

  “She’s not.” It wasn’t ideal, of course. Hilary needed the water, but then, I had needs, too. I needed to send a clear message about the rules, about what was acceptable, and mouthing off about her former employer while disrespecting me had overstepped too many lines. She could drink later. When I decided it was time. “Give it to me.”

  He walked over, thrusting the glass into my waiting hand, and I lifted it to my mouth before taking a large gulp. Hilary yelled behind the plastic once more, most of her consonants lost as she expressed her dissatisfaction with my decision.

  “What was that?” I probed sardonically. “It’s impossible to understand you when you’re gagged, baby, but that’s okay. I know you want the rest of the water, and don’t worry, I’m going to give it to you.”

  Stepping forward, I threw the remainder of the glass’s contents at her chest, the water soaking through her tight, thin shirt. She shrieked at the drenching, her stunned gaze lowering to her chest at the same time mine did—just in time to notice the material become translucent, soaking through her bra and revealing her pebbling nipples. My cock swelled at the blissful sight.

  “My my.” I cooed. “It’s like a wet tee shirt competition in here, except there is no competition, darling. You win.”

  She narrowed her eyes, all four limbs struggling against the leather.

  “Johnson.” I turned to see his grinning face. It seemed he, too, was relishing the show. “There should be some scissors in the cupboard over there. Would you mind grabbing them for me?”

  “Sure, boss.” He strode toward it just as Hilary began to pant, the unmistakable sounds of pleading coming from behind the plastic ball.

  It was too late.

  Far too late.

>   Little blondes who upset me paid the price, and as Hilary was about to find out, the cost could be high.

  Chapter Seven

  Hilary

  WATCHING THE DOCTOR pass the scissors to Sean, my insides tightened. The son of a bitch had me tied to a chair, and now, just to exacerbate my circumstances, he’d gagged me as well. There was nothing I could do to fight back—no way of resisting. I struggled against the plastic in my mouth, pulling hot ribbons of air through my nostrils. To think I’d actually been curious when Saul had suggested we play with a gag. I’d been horny at the idea, but now that there was one shoved unceremoniously between my teeth, things were different. There was nothing sexy about this. Nothing good about the way I couldn’t vocalize my concerns, nothing alluring about the way my chest was freezing with cold water, the fabric sticking to my skin, and even less appealing about the way Sean towered over me, scissors in hand.

  “What are you going to do, boss?” The doctor sounded almost excited, but Sean’s expression remained solemn.

  “I told you, anything I fucking like.”

  My heart hammered at his verdict, but I fought to control my responses. Whatever he was going to do, I didn’t want to give the satisfaction of knowing I was petrified.

  “It’s time to help Hilary out of those wet clothes.” Sean smirked, opening the arms of the scissors as he moved toward me. “After all, she’ll get cold in this state.”

  My gaze followed as the blades approached my left shoulder, tension peaking in my body until I felt as if I might burst, but other than thrash around in the chair—a deed which clearly entertained both of them—there was nothing I could do to halt the attack, no way of saving myself.

  “Don’t worry, baby.” Sean’s tone was a soft, annoying purr again, the one that meant I could happily throttle him. “This isn’t going to hurt.”

  He pinched the edge of my blouse, where the bodice met the sleeve, and snipped into the material. A part of me was horrified at the criminal damage, but another, larger facet was simply relieved as he angled the blades down the hem and proceeded to remove the sleeve from the rest of the top. Of course, the sleeve still encased my arm, but it was no longer connected to the rest of the shirt. Panting, I watched as he ambled to my other arm and began the process again. In a couple of minutes, neither sleeve was attached to my blouse.

  “Almost there.” Sean smiled down at me, revealing a row of pearl-white teeth. “Just a few further adjustments to make.”

  Leaning over me, he grabbed the drenched fabric clinging to my left breast, easing it away from my skin from the hem he’d just created at my shoulder. He slid the scissors a few inches beneath the material before pushing one blade up through the fabric. My gaze darted to his face as he slashed the thing, angling the blades until he cut a semi-circle. It took a few seconds for me to understand what he was doing. My attention was fixated on the scissors cutting so close to my skin, but he never hurt me, working meticulously until a complete circle had been cut around my breast. Snipping away the final piece of fabric connecting the circle to my blouse, he grinned, lifting the wet material to my face.

  “One.” His eyebrow arched, and he threw the cloth to the floor with a laugh before he edged closer to my right shoulder.

  This time, I knew precisely what he was going to do, but bound and gagged, there was nothing I could do to prevent the hooliganism. Forced to be passive, a submissive observer, I watched as he recklessly attacked the other side of my shirt until finally, there were two large circles cut from the front. I stared down at myself, close to hyperventilating as my gaze absorbed the sight. My lacy bra was visible on both sides, my buds still aching from the cold.

  “And two.” Sean smiled, stepping away as if contemplating a piece of artwork. “Beautiful, but I think it still needs improvement.”

  Waving the scissors in front of me, he approached again, a diabolical grin on his face.

  “No!” I screeched around the gag, but all he did was shake his head, tapping the plastic ball before pressing his index finger against it.

  “Hush,” he warned. “You don’t want me to find a bigger gag for you, baby.”

  His large fingers landed on my breast, caressing a gentle line over my sodden skin before one, then two, hooked beneath the lace.

  “No!” I couldn’t help calling out again, my gaze flitting north to meet his arrogant expression.

  “Yes, darling.”

  Sean held my gaze for a moment longer before his focus fell back to my bra, then wordlessly, he sliced the lace away to reveal my breast—damp, exposed, and utterly vulnerable.

  “Beautiful.” His tone was almost reverent as he grazed a thumb over my goosing skin. “Just as I knew you’d be.”

  “Fuck you!” I snarled, gag or no gag, and based on the way he flinched, I reckon he deciphered the words.

  “Language, Hilary.” He tutted, gaze narrowing before his fingers rose to my defenseless nipple and pinched.

  I gasped at the sudden hurt, trying in vain to shrug him away, but it was futile. Sean had access to my body, whether I liked it or not, and to make matters worse, the smirking doctor was a witness to my ordeal. Sean had inferred he should leave, but the doctor was still there, grinning behind him. Indignation burned in my veins, the emotion almost as incessant as the burgeoning dread. The hand that violated me skimmed a line up my flesh until it cupped my throat. Long fingers grasped at my windpipe, the pressure mild but insistent.

  “You don’t want to get on my wicked side, little girl. That would be a bad idea, a very bad idea indeed.”

  He held me there for a moment, frozen in time as his gaze burned into mine. Exposed and humiliated, I had nothing to offer in return, the thrumming alarm and pounding of my heart the only reminders I was really alive, and this wasn’t one awful nightmare.

  Then, just as I was certain I couldn’t take anymore, the hand slipped away, his attention returning to my other cup, and silently, he worked to cut it, ripping the final part of the lace from my body to leave me bare and vulnerable.

  “Very nice.” The doctor’s voice floated through the air, but I couldn’t lift my eyes to meet his gaze. Embarrassment burned at my cheeks at the ignominy, the fact I was first bound, then gagged, and now, helplessly exposed blooming as a hot blush.

  “Better than that,” Sean countered, handing the scissors back to him. “She’s fucking amazing, and only one thing is going to make this picture better.”

  Reaching into his jacket pocket, a sudden wave of fury flowed through me.

  How dare he do this!

  How dare he take me and treat me this way. Saul was going to rip his fucking windpipe out and beat him to death with it when he found out. The thought was comforting, buoying me as his hand reappeared, this time with two wooden clothespins.

  “Know what these are for, beautiful?”

  I dragged my gaze to meet his smug expression. The arrogant prick might have me at his mercy, but my terror would be short-lived. I couldn’t wait to see what Saul would do when he found out about my kidnapping.

  “No?” Getting no response, he edged closer, one large hand closing around the clothespins. “Then let me show you.”

  Collecting one pin from the other hand, his fingers drew the wooden arms open and slowly pressed the thing toward my chest. With my nipple pebbled from the temperature and exposure, it was flagrantly obvious what he had in mind, but worse, I was powerless to prevent him from achieving it. There was no choice but to gasp as the wood closed around my nipple, the arms pinching it hard as Sean relaxed his grip.

  “Perfect.” He laughed, glancing over his shoulder at his odious friend. “At least it will be when the other one is in place.”

  I fought this time, struggling against the leather that held my wrists and ankles in place, even though I acknowledged it was futile. Even though I knew I could never overcome, somehow, it was too important not to try, but in the end, my attempts were met with failure. Sean attached the second clothespin to the other nip
ple, the initial burst of pain capturing my attention before I noticed what he was doing next.

  One more reach into that blasted pocket revealed his cell phone. He waved the device in the air mischievously before stepping back to capture the look of me.

  “Here she is, Morrison.” He growled the words while he hit record, sneering at me from behind the screen. “This is the fate of your lover, except by the time you see this, she won’t be your lover at all. She’ll be mine.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sean

  SHE WAS WONDERFUL, her features screwed into a ball as I concluded the recording, her body still fighting against the bondage, and every time she writhed, her breasts bounced delightfully in the underwiring of what remained of her underwear. Like every schoolboy’s wet dream, Hilary was bound in the gloom and entirely at my mercy.

  She was mine.

  “Now, now,” I purred. “Don’t be too hasty to judge me. I may not be your average host, but who wants to be average?” I smirked at my own joke, though her expression only hardened, a string of fresh mumbles coming from behind the gag.

  “You know I can’t understand you properly, darling,” I said with a shrug as I slipped the device away. I’d make sure it was sent to Morrison. Knowing he was aware of her fate would be the cherry on the already generously iced cake. “Let me put it this way. Yes, I have you. Yes, I expect you to obey me, but I am going to make it good for you.”

  I stepped closer again, dodging the clothespin and trailing one finger under the curve of her breast. I had always admired a pair of nicely clamped tits, and these wooden pegs were the perfect introduction. Soon, I’d introduce Hilary to my favorite crocodile clamps. My grin widened at the prospect of how fucking good they would look on her wonderful breasts. Full, yet pert, they were some of the best I’d ever seen, and God knew, I had seen a few.

  “I had the chair made specially for you.” Her enraged gaze rose to meet mine, her gaze widening ever so slightly at my admission. “Let me show you.” Glancing over my shoulder, I gestured for Johnson. “Let’s get some light in here. Hilary is going to put on a show for us.”