There was the sardonic tone again, the one that made me want to fucking kill him.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
He nodded, reaching into his jacket and producing a tiny silver key.
“Time to set you free.” He sounded almost disappointed as he rounded my body and lifted my wrists higher behind my back. “Let me remind you, one false move, and I will have you chained to me permanently.”
I heard the lock turn, and a moment later, he eased first one, then both of my wrists from the cuffs. I brought them up to my face, assessing my flesh for evidence of the bondage.
“I mean it.” Sean completed the circle and was back in front of me in a heartbeat. “I won’t hesitate to keep you that way, Hilary. In fact, I’d rather enjoy it.”
I swallowed at the surety in his voice and believed him. No doubt, he did want a woman chained to his side—one he could flaunt and humiliate on demand, one to keep his cock hard and well-polished—but I wasn’t that woman. Even if I had been insanely turned on by some of the outrageous things he’d done to me, that didn’t mean I was his. It didn’t mean I wanted to be his.
“I understand, Sir.”
That knowledge didn’t help me. I was still here, locked in Zander Hyland’s old office, at the beck and call of his nephew. I had to play the long game if I was going to get out of this. I had to be smart.
“Good.” He slipped the cuffs and key back into his jacket pocket. “Would you like a drink?”
My brow rose at the query. It was about the first normal thing he’d said to me since the coffee house.
“Yes, please, Sir.” I never got that glass of water earlier, and frankly, the dehydration was starting to show. My head ached, and I was absolutely exhausted.
Lifting his index finger, he pointed it in my direction. “Stay.”
I wanted to balk at the derisory order, but I pressed my lips together, watching him as he moved to a nearby dresser.
“Zander had the most rudimentary taste in alcohol, I’m afraid. There’s neither a bottle of fizz nor a decent wine selection, but I can offer you a bourbon.” He glanced back to me with a half-smile. “I brought this bottle myself.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “Can I have a glass of water as well?”
He poured the liquor into two glass tumblers, presumably taking his time while I was compelled to await his verdict. Once he’d placed the bottle back on the counter, he lifted one tumbler to his nose and inhaled.
“Ah, that’s just what I need.”
Lowering my gaze, I didn’t reply. I was unsure what he wanted me to say.
“Come over here on your hands and knees, and you may have some.” One dark eyebrow rose at the command, and he beckoned me forward with his free hand. “Once you please me, you may have your water.”
So, this was the new game then? The public disgracing might be over, but now it was time for Hilary to jump through new hoops for Sean’s pleasure. A complicated myriad of emotions knotted inside me as the instruction registered. In isolation, I coped with any part of what he’d suggested. I could kneel and crawl for him. Hell, I’d enjoyed doing some of those things with Saul, but it was the fact Sean was the one asking—he’d taken me without my permission, and there was an underlying assumption I’d just roll over and do every fucking thing he demanded, including marrying him—that was what riled me, and that was what was on my mind as I fell to my knees.
“That’s it.” His handsome features shifted into a smirk. “Good girl.”
I ignored the debilitating fury that wanted to rise at his condescending tone, dismissing it along with the way my clitoris throbbed at his praise. This was just fucked-up and ridiculous. I couldn’t get angry and lose my shit with him, but equally, I refused to believe I was finding anything about this sexy. Being kidnapped was not arousing. Being forced into a life with this monster of a man was nothing but immoral lunacy. Perhaps it was testament to how long I’d spent in Saul’s company that I’d survived what had happened so far. Maybe that was the cause of my perverse responses. I couldn’t accept it was only me—that I was just the twisted woman who got her rocks off, degrading herself for the likes of Sean Hyland.
Pressing my hands into the worn carpet, I tried not to think about his arrogant expression or what else had transpired in this same spot over the years. In fact, I muted all my responses, thinking only of moving one hand and knee at a time as I moved in his direction. By the time his shoes came into view, the motion had become a little easier, though the embarrassment of being made to crawl this way for his pleasure had not.
“Beautiful.” He sounded pleased and lifting my head, his face wasn’t half as smug as I’d expected. “Here.” He reached for the second tumbler and thrust it at me.
I took it in my hands, my gaze following it as I contemplated the amber liquor inside.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Take a sip, then give it back to me.” There was excitement in his tone, and already, I knew he was concocting something even worse for me—something awful.
Unthinkingly I obeyed, pressing the glass to my lips and inhaling. The scent of alcohol was intoxicating, sending messages to my brain—this would either give me the confidence to endure whatever was to come or make me hurl. I tipped a small quantity into my mouth before I had time to consider which would win, then handed it back to his outstretched fingers as the drink burned a path down my parched throat.
“Now for water.” Sean turned, opening a wood-paneled door to reveal a small refrigerator. Choosing another glass, he collected the spring water from the chiller and poured some. “You may have some when you have paid homage to your husband to be.”
Resting on my haunches, I gazed up at him, uncertain and confused. The liquor had sent my senses reeling, and while the initial reaction to be sick had passed, even the tiny amount I’d swallowed had left me heady.
“I don’t know what you mean, Sir.” My cheeks burned at the admission, and I wondered if this was all part of the game—how to belittle the blonde further.
“It’s easy,” he answered, though I refused to meet his gaze this time. “Get down there and kiss my feet. It’s been a few days since those shoes were buffed, but I can assure you, they’re very expensive. Your mouth can do the job for me while I enjoy my bourbon, then once your mouth is full of leather and polish, you can wash it all down with both drinks.”
I froze at his words, hearing them, but somehow, unable to comprehend the things he suggested. He wanted me to polish his shoes with my tongue—was that what he was saying?
“You may as well get used to it,” he told me with a dry laugh. “You’re going to be my wife, and that role will require regular devotion of this sort. When you get good, I might even ask you to do it in front of the guys. That way, you all get a reminder of who’s in charge.”
Anxiety twisted in my belly, merging with that hot, twisted need that rose from my core and seemed impossible to ignore. He wanted me to degrade myself, which was terrible enough, but for some crazy reason, I responded not only with shock and disgust but with slick, irrefutable need. I wanted to do the things he commanded. I wanted to humble myself for him, and once it was done, and he was happy, I wanted him to put me out of my misery and fuck this burning desire out of me.
I might never be able to look myself in the face again, but there was no point denying what was patently true. Lying to myself wouldn’t get me out of this place. It wouldn’t get me away from Sean, Saul, and all the other fucked-up immoral men I’d met over the years. Only my compliance would buy that chance. If I did as I was told and earned his trust, maybe, just maybe, my opportunity would come.
Chapter Fifteen
Sean
MY BALLS ACHED AT THE sight of her on her hands and knees, gazing up at me through those damp lashes, breasts exposed, and fucking tantalizing. Hilary was a walking wet dream.
“If I have to ask you again, there will be consequences.” I glanced away, running my
gaze over the terrible furniture. I really had to redecorate this place as soon as I could. I loved my uncle, but jeez, his taste was awful.
“I can’t do this.” She coughed the words between my shoes. “Please, don’t make me, Sir.”
“Of course, you can do it,” I coaxed, wishing I could adjust my shaft again. Being this hard all the time was proving to be difficult. Not only was it clouding my judgment, but it made basic things like sitting comfortably impossible. “You might not want to do it, but that’s not the same thing. You’re going to have to do a lot of things you don’t want to do to live with me.” She trembled at the threat, pulling in a deep breath before her face lowered toward my shoe leather.
“I don’t want to do this.” Her voice was choked with emotion.
“I know.” By contrast, my tone was clipped. “But you’re still going to, darling, and that’s the point. I am your world now, Hilary. It’s time to pay the piper.”
Hilary blew out a breath before she pressed her mouth against the expensive Italian leather. Fleetingly, my mind flitted to the Milan store where I’d bought the pair and the pretty little brunette who’d served me, but the groaning blonde at my feet soon drew my attention back to the present.
“Oh, God.” She sniffed. “Oh God, I can’t believe this.”
“Shhh.” I took a sip of my drink, reaching down to run my fingers through her blonde locks. Her hair was so soft, just like her skin, and my balls tightened in response. I wanted her, I wanted her so badly, but I wouldn’t go down that road yet. I wouldn’t take Hilary by force. She wouldn’t have my cock until she was desperate and begging for it, and ideally, once I had a ring on her finger. “You’re doing great, gorgeous girl. Just keep going.”
Her body stilled at my praise, her gaze rising to meet mine.
“It’s okay.” I smiled as I reassured her. “You’re going to polish my shoes for me like a good girl, and while you do, I’ll call the appropriate officials and get the wedding plans underway.”
“It’s really going to happen, then?” She sounded shell-shocked. “You still want to marry me?”
“Of course, beautiful.” I held her focus for a moment before my index finger pointed at the floor. “Now, get to it. Kiss the shoes of your master.”
Hilary swallowed as though the command was resonating through her.
“Yes, Sir.”
It took a few seconds for her to move again, but when she did, the motion was lither than before, swift, smooth, and if I didn’t know better, practiced. She lowered her mouth back to the leather and pressed her lips into it, kissing it over and over again. It was utter fucking perfection.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and dialed Cole’s number.
“Mr. Hyland?” His experienced tone echoed back at me. “How can I help you?”
“I need someone to make some arrangements for me.” I hesitated for a second, ordering my thoughts away from the sexy-as-fuck look of Hilary at my feet. “I know it’s not your remit, but I don’t have the right people in place yet.”
“It’s no problem, Sir.” I could hear the smile in his voice, the desire to please me, and at that moment, I was resolved. I’d promote Cole. He was far too good to only be a driver. A loyal man like him deserved more than just the interior of one of Zander’s cars. “I’d be happy to help. What arrangements can I make for you?”
“A wedding.” Hilary’s mouth paused at my shoe, her body tense. “I need someone to marry me and push through all the appropriate paperwork as soon as possible.”
“A wedding, Sir?” I could hear the surprise in his tone, but he did his best to hide it.
“That’s right. As soon as possible.”
“Very good, Sir.” In the end, it was Cole’s age-old professionalism that won out. “Leave it with me, and I’ll have details for you soon.”
“Perfect.” My smile widened at his cool composure. I needed more men like this. “Keep in touch.”
Hanging up the phone, I slipped the device back into my pocket. I’d call my lawyer and get the pre-nuptial papers drawn up soon, but now, there was a hot little woman demanding my attention. My concentration fell to Hilary, and I watched, mesmerized by her performance—the way she dragged her pretty little mouth over the shoes, her breath ragged, and if I didn’t know better, the way she wriggled her arse provocatively as she shimmied to pay homage to the other shoe. Was it possible she was enjoying this submission? Reveling in the act of denigrating herself for me?
Could I be that fucking lucky?
“Very nice,” I cooed. “Are they cleaner now?”
She drew away, panting as she regarded the leather. “A little, Sir.”
“Up on your knees,” I instructed, arousal ratcheting up as her breasts swung at my command. “Let me look.”
I forced my gaze down past her intoxicating body to the leather. It was slightly cleaner than before, the evidence of the places she’d kissed still visible in places. Not bad for a first attempt. “Good try, little girl.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
What was that purr in her voice? Was my precious little blonde bride-to-be flirting with me?
“I think you’re going to get very good at polishing these shoes for me.” I met her coy gaze once more. “Once we’re somewhere more private, you can show me some real devotion by kissing my feet as well.”
She pulled in a deep breath, shifting on her knees.
“I don’t know why, but the idea of those things makes me really horny. Sir.” Her focus fell with the confession, the blush at her face burning brighter.
“Is that right?” Placing my drink on the counter behind me, I leaned forward, reaching out to grasp her delicious nipples with both hands. I was Sean Hyland, used to getting what I wanted, but even by my own twisted standards, this was something else. This show of surrender and the way it made me feel was extraordinary, and the thought that Hilary was actually enjoying being humbled was too much—too flawless to be true. “How horny?”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Very.”
“That’s most pleasing to hear.” I leaned down, gently pressing my forehead to her temple. “I want to do really bad things with you, Hilary, but I won’t do any of them without your consent.”
“You mean it?”
She blinked at me, breathless and needy in that hedonistic concoction that made me want to pull her onto my cock and break the only rule I’d cemented in my head—I wouldn’t take her until the time was right, and in my heart, I knew that time would be once we were married.
“Yes.” My tone was emphatic. “I won’t force you into sex without consent.”
“But you’ll force me into marriage?” She arched a brow in that way I often employed. It was the first time anyone had used the gesture at me, and for a second, I was stunned. “You’re okay with that, though?”
How dare she look at me that way? How dare she use that tone of voice with me?
“It doesn’t seem like you’ve learned a great deal at my feet, young lady.”
She shriveled under the scrutiny of my gaze.
“I... I didn’t mean it like that, Sir. I’m sorry.” Her expression fell. “I only meant it doesn’t seem right to compel someone into wedlock. Marriage is a big commitment.”
“Yes.” I drew away, nodding at her sentiment. “It’s a lifelong one.” I pinched her nipples, my balls tightening at the tiny gasp that escaped her lips.
“And you still want to do it?” She lurched forward as I tugged on the sensitive tissue, pulling her closer to the place I was standing. “You still want to make that commitment to me—someone you hadn’t even met until the coffee shop?”
My lips twitched at her analysis. She was right, of course. On the surface, nothing about my plan made any sense, but it was what I wanted—Hilary, bound, naked, and subservient, the perfect, hot little wife I could control. Naturally, I’d still take other women whenever I wanted them. Fidelity was not for me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want
a pretty little thing to come home to. Or maybe I’d bring her to work every day and keep her chained at my desk for when my shoes needed polishing... or my cock.
“I do.” I smirked at the irony of my answer, releasing her nipples, and despite her predicament, she even managed a smile.
“Do you know how crazy that sounds?” Her gaze found mine, lingering for a moment. “Sir.”
I chuckled at her reasoning. It did sound insane, but there it was, my whole sordid plan laid out for all the universe to see. She would be my submissive, sexy wife, and I would be her rock, her husband—her world.
Chapter Sixteen
Hilary
TIME PROTRACTED, THE hours bleeding into days, though I had no conception of what they meant or how they were measured. I didn’t know where I was or how long I’d been here. I didn’t know if Saul was out there, looking for me, or whether I’d been forgotten, like so many women before me. I’d seen them come and go, the flimsy females who hung off the arms of the men I’d worked with at The Syndicate. They were disposable, just like the lifestyle, but I’d thought things had been different with Saul and me. Before this, before I’d been taken, I’d thought...
What did it matter anymore? Nothing made sense, except Sean, except the fire in his eyes and the way my blood heated at his touch, that and the constant battle playing out in my head. The woman I’d been before—with Saul—the one who liked to dress up, make the best of herself, work and play hard, warring with the submissive mess I seemed to have become.
I didn’t want to marry Sean. Of course, I didn’t. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t want to get married at all, but I couldn’t deny the electricity between us... perhaps that wasn’t true. Maybe it could be refuted, and I just didn’t want to. Trapped in the confines he set for me, I didn’t know anymore.
“Lost in thought?” I turned at the sound of his voice, my eyes adjusting as they searched the dark contours of the room.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought this was a penthouse, some expensive place he was renting—I thought that was what he’d told me—but I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t had a decent sleep since he took me, and the place was always in shadows as if he was intentionally robbing me of daylight and the sense of time it afforded.
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