Hyland's Property
Page 8
“I’m serious.” Her jaw tightened, and I half expected her to stamp her foot like an irate schoolgirl. “What will I do with my life?”
“We’ll find something for you,” I soothed, sensing I needed to iron out these creases in her concerns. “But in the short term, your focus will be on me. On pleasing me, on making me happy.”
“Sex, you mean?” She searched my face, I assumed for some sign of ill-intent. “I thought you weren’t going to force yourself on me.”
“No, not just sex,” I lied, though my cock swelled in my pants at the alluring imagery playing out in my head. “And I meant what I said, Hilary. I won’t take you by force.”
“So, if I refuse, you’ll respect that, Sir?”
I bit back on the small snicker that threatened to rise at her plaintive comment.
“Oh, you won’t refuse me, sweetheart. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be purring like a pussy cat, begging for my cock.”
Her brow furrowed, but before she could offer a smart-arse reply, I reached for the gag still hanging around her neck.
“Let me help you,” I murmured, easing the ball and strap back into place. “Let me stop that pretty little tongue before it gets you into trouble.”
“No, please, Sean!” She pulled against the cuffs, trying to twist out of my embrace, but the hand on her delicious backside grabbed the metal at her wrists and held her in place with comparative ease, ignoring the way her feet sought to retreat. “I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet!” She was turning her head side to side in a vain attempt to defy me, but it was hopeless. The leather strap was already in the right position at the back of her head, and with a practiced hand, I lifted the plastic ball into place just in time to cut off her latest impassioned plea.
This time she did stamp her feet, scowling at me as the consonants continued to try to bleed from her tempting lips. Leaning closer, I ran my hand through her hair, eventually pulling the length back roughly.
“Behave yourself,” I reminded her with a playful snarl. “Remember what happens to naughty girls who piss me off. I can protect you from the rabid mob and still have a little fun at your expense.” My brow rose at the threat, and right on cue, she started to pant around the ball gag. “All you have to do is be good. Walk when I tell you to walk. Stop when I tell you to stop. Look smoking hot and blush when all those hungry male eyes crawl over your skin.”
Her eyes widened at my inference, a desperate mewl escaping her gagged mouth.
“Exactly.” I cajoled. “You can do all those things for me and survive, can’t you, sweetheart?”
Releasing her hair, I pinched one, then the other tantalizing nipple, reveling in the way she fought for composure. Hilary might have been afraid, but there was more than terror going on in her sweet head. There was good old-fashioned lust as well. That was her Achilles heel, as far as I could see. She might want her freedom, but she’d learn to desire the things I could give her even more.
Chapter Thirteen
Hilary
IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO say what was going through my mind as he drew away. My head was spinning, the intensity of his fervor merging with all my frustrated fears to make me giddy, but the bloody gag meant I couldn’t even protest or let him know what I was feeling. My breathing was ragged as he pulled the door open, that slit of light I had previously longed for only heightening the ricocheting tension in my body. He was going to make me do this! He was going to make me walk from this room in only my panties and pantyhose in front of God knows who, and he was only doing it for kicks—to show me who was the boss and hammer home the point to any of the horrible men who worked for his organization that I was somehow his property. His to keep tied in here. His to degrade. His to display. Panic spiraled at the thought, but it was too late—too late to placate him, too late to plead my case, and far too late to get away. I dismissed the notion I might not even want to. Surely, that was folly. However deep and alluring his eyes were, how enticing his words could be, his actions spoke of his true intent, of the man who had captured me.
I might have been Saul’s girl when I’d awoken in his expensive pad this morning, yesterday morning, or whenever the hell that was, but I was somebody else now—a woman cuffed and terribly vulnerable.
“Come on.”
Sean turned back to meet my gaze, tilting his head to indicate I should follow, and against all my better impulses, I stumbled forward. I had no choice but to obey him, an image of what he might do to me if I refused surfacing in my head as I reached his shoulder. But my forced circumstances didn’t mean I had to fucking like it. I didn’t approve of the way he was treating me, and I didn’t appreciate it. He might be able to keep me here, but Saul would find me. I had seen the way The Syndicate had tracked down its people before, and one thing was for certain, I was one of its people. I remembered the way Dalton and the others had found his girlfriend, Delilah, when Dalton had been in trouble with Sean’s dead uncle. They were rabid in their dedication to the cause, and there was no way Saul would give up on me. Not once he’d figured out what had happened. Not once he—
“I need your attention.”
I blinked, his words puncturing my internal thought process like a pin to a balloon as I turned my head in his direction. I hated not being able to speak, and the way I knew the plastic ball shoved between my teeth looked, but there was nothing I could do about that. The cuffs meant I was powerless to prevent its intrusion, just as I was helpless to stop the way everyone we met would stare at my exposed breasts. I would just have to bear that burden, tolerate the intensity of the humiliation, and pray to God, it didn’t arouse me the way it had before. I definitely couldn’t dwell on that now.
“Good.” He slid one hand around my left arm and led me out the doorway, the change in lighting making me flinch before the new landscape came into view.
We turned left, Sean leading the way, and as my eyes adjusted, I finally took in the scenery, not that there was much to see. We were in a long corridor lined with the doors to cells presumably similar to the one I’d been held in. The dirty walls reached high on either side, but there was little in the way of natural light on offer. That was probably a reprieve, based on the smell of the place, and as I scuttled to keep up with his long strides, I tried not to think about what might be dried all over the walls we passed. It took a few moments to reach the end of the dank hallway, each moment laced with paranoia, someone could come out of one of those doors and see me, but as we approached, the metal doors of an elevator slid open in front of us.
“In we go.”
I let him guide me in with no resistance. The floor in the cubicle looked decidedly cleaner than the ground I’d just been walking on, but as I stepped inside, I was greeted with the mirrored image of my own reflection on all three sides of the unit. Panting, I absorbed the look of the woman staring back at me. Her blonde hair was a bedraggled mess, hemmed in by the black leather strap wound around it, securing the plastic ball into place at her mouth. My eyes lingered over the thing, taking in the way my lips were stretched wide. It was every inch as excruciating as I’d imagined in my head, my inability to communicate only exacerbated by its prominent look. Its message was clear—the woman wearing it was not permitted to speak. She didn’t get to decide when to do that anymore—those things were above her paygrade—but worse was the rush of desire that tugged keenly at my core as I registered the thought. I liked it. God help me, there was something about the look and the objective of the thing I really craved, though I’d never admit such a thing to Sean.
I caught his smirking expression in his reflection behind me, and when he turned to hit the appropriate button on the control panel, I dragged my gaze over the rest of me. The first and most obvious thing that hit me were my breasts. Naturally, I’d been aware he’d cut the front away from my blouse and bra, but seeing the results for myself was something else. I looked like a sex victim, left strewn at the roadside, the jagged lines of his scissors still evident around the remaining fabr
ic that framed my breasts. Except I was no victim, was I? What kind of prey would thoroughly enjoy their captivity as I had done? What kind would still be wet with the excitement of the orgasms he’d torn from my body? I lowered my head with shame, catching sight of my nipples and noticing how, even now, they still budded at my predicament. My body was alive with my captivity, heightened by the mortifying things he had done, even if my other senses were not.
“Turn around.”
My gaze shifted at the order, catching sight of his knowing expression, but I complied regardless, hardly in a position to argue.
“You look lovely,” he assured me in a sardonic tone. “No need for further appraisal on your part. Needless to say, I’ll get you beautifully preened in time for our nuptials.”
He was still going on about that then, was he? This incessant fascination with marriage and the absurd idea I might want to legally bind myself to him might be amusing if I hadn’t been the one fettered in the arrangement. I had no desire to marry the man, and I’d be damned if I was going to let him compel me into the union. The sexual ecstasy was one thing but committing the rest of my life to him was quite another. I wouldn’t be marrying anyone, and unless the British laws had changed in the matter, there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Sean needed my consent, but more than that, he also needed me to sign the appropriate paperwork. I’d already decided he would get neither.
“It will get easier.” He closed the distance between us with one stride, forcing me to crane my neck to meet his eyes. Damn it, had he always been this tall, or had he just kept me bound in a dark room until now? “This thing between us, this push and pull you’re trying to fight.”
His smile was almost wistful, one of his fingers trailing a gentle line across my cheek as the elevator lurched into action. I lowered my gaze, suddenly unable to meet the ferocity of feeling there. What did he expect me to say to that? But then, with the gag in place, there was nothing I could say, was there? Perhaps that was the point. This was the lesson he wanted to reinforce.
“I will make it good for you, Hilary.” There was a flicker of emotion in his gaze, though God knows I couldn’t hope to decipher it as I glanced back to meet those burning blue eyes. “I’ll take what I want, the way I always do, but I want it to be good for you, too.” He paused, leaning closer, and for one heart-stopping moment, I thought he was going to kiss me, but how could he with the blasted plastic in place. “One day, when all this shit has been cleaned up, I’ll take you back to Nice. I think you’ll really like it there, the chateaus, the champagne, and the sunshine.”
What was this? Was he flirting with me—with the woman he had gagged, bound, and forced to climax to within an inch of her life?
“We’ll have a good life together.” His lips curled. “If we’re lucky, we might even make each other happy.”
I exhaled through my nostrils, uncertain how I’d respond to that ludicrous evaluation even if I could.
“But first we have to get through this episode.” He glanced around as the elevator chimed to indicate we’d reached his desired floor. My insides churned, the realization we’d arrived at wherever he wanted to show me off blooming within me. “I have to tidy up the streets my uncle vacated and deal with The Syndicate, but then, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, gorgeous?” He winked at me before grabbing my arm again and spinning me around just as the metal doors slid open.
There was little time to muse this latest twist. Sean marched from the elevator, pulling me along with him into another corridor. It was still dark, just like the basement area I’d obviously been contained in, but the ambiance here was different. The floor was polished wood, my pantyhose sliding across it as he strode off, taking me with him, and the place had an executive feel. It wasn’t until we got closer, I noticed the two strapping guys waiting at the double doors beyond. No doubt they’d noticed me, though, their nefarious grins and the sickening wolf whistles evidence of that, as was the way their jaws dropped as Sean presented me.
“Good day, Mr. Hyland.” The hulking blond actually licked his lips at the sight of me. “Is she a little gift for our service?”
I recoiled at the statement as far as Sean’s grasp would allow, but his fingers tightened, holding me firmly in place.
“No.” His tone was emphatic. “Hilary is mine.”
“So, what’s with the show, boss?” The other one with the receding hairline asked, though his stare never left my breasts. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but it’s just unusual. Your uncle preferred to keep his women private.”
“I’m not my uncle.” Sean’s arms snaked to my waist, pulling me closer. “Hilary belongs to me, but it’s important she learns what that means, and if I want to display her, I will.”
I squirmed at his side, my face burning with embarrassment as the two men exchanged grins.
“We’re definitely happy to support you in that venture, Sir,” the blond retorted. “Anything else you’ll need for now?”
Sean glanced at him before his attention returned to me.
“No.” His lips curled with the reply. “I think I have everything I need for the time being.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sean
I WHISKED HER INTO the office, regretting the decision almost immediately. I loathed everything about this place. It was Zander’s signature all over the wood walls, not mine. The place was so smoke-stained and dated, it made me cringe, and that was before I contemplated the fact this was the precise place my uncle had been shot dead. My stomach churned, but I pushed the grief and anger down. I had something better to focus on, and she needed my full attention, despite the less than pleasing aesthetic of the environment.
“Stand in the middle of the room.” I barked, enjoying the way she scuttled into position while my gaze took in the look of her pert backside. I hadn’t had much opportunity to play with that delicious derriere yet, but I hoped there would be plenty of them coming. Chances to feel her, to squeeze her, and when she spoke out of line, which I knew she would, to turn her over my lap and tan that beautiful behind. “Good.”
I closed the door, turning to watch her for a moment. Was this really the same shrill woman who’d spilled coffee on me when I’d first arrived? That smart-mouthed little kitten was difficult to decipher from the messy, shell-shocked woman trembling in front of me, though I much preferred the way she was exposed and available to me now. I’d been hard for her for fucking hours, my arousal unbearable since that final orgasm I’d ripped from her had radiated between us. I still could sense it, still see her there, bound and quivering, her body spent and desperate for more. I could smell her arousal as keenly as I felt mine, her need to be dominated, oozing from her as deeply as my craving to take control. She was fucking incredible, and I was insatiable for her.
Eyeing her perfectly formed backside, I straightened my erection inside my pants. The things I was going to do to that fine arse. I’d spank her before I claimed it. I’d have Hilary every which way, and seeing her there, fidgeting and squirming, waiting for my next order, it all made sense.
This was what I’d been waiting for—she was what I’d needed. All those floozies in France had been fine, and they’d looked amazing at the end of my cock, beautiful on my arm even, but I’d never felt anything for them, not a flicker of real emotion. The feelings conjuring inside me now were something else. I actually felt a tug of real need when I gazed at her, and it wasn’t just lust. I might be a superficial bastard, but I wasn’t entirely one dimensional. I knew about emotions—how to identify them, play them, and exploit them—and the ones stirring in me made me giddy. There was something about Hilary. Yes, I wanted to tan that sweet behind and screw her senseless, but after, there was something that made me want to wrap my arms around her, pull her heat to me, and share a moment of intimacy. I shook my head at that startling realization—I wanted to be intimate with her.
Me, Sean Hyland.
What would the guys in Nice think of me now?
Her brows knitted at the marital reference, and her right foot stomped into the wooden floor, but I smiled at the display of defiance. I liked Hilary’s strength, I always had, and though I would tame the fire roaring inside her, I would never extinguish it completely.
“Settle down,” I growled, though there was no real intent in my tone. “Settle down, and we’ll talk.”
Hilary
“I’M SORRY ABOUT THE décor.” He proffered the apology as he slid the lock against the door behind him and came to join me in the center of the room. “It was Zander’s choice. Very...” He hesitated, his nose crinkling as he tried to think of the right words. “Seventies.”
I might have laughed had my mouth not been gagged, and I wasn’t reeling from the skin-crawling ignominy of being seen this way in front of those other guys. It was bad enough Sean had seen me this way and that unscrupulous doctor of his. I could scarcely even wrap my head around the way I looked, but now, another two strangers had completed my debasement. My shoulders fell at the thought.
As though he could sense where my muse was going, he reached behind me and tugged loose the buckle at the back of my head. The straps that had held the gag in place fell free at either side of my mouth, leaving only my teeth clinging to the ball.
“Drop it.” He held out his palm under my mouth, and acting every inch the obedient puppy he craved, I let the thing fall onto his waiting flesh. His fingers closed around the ball, and he threw it onto the huge desk behind him. “Better?”