Hyland's Property
Page 12
Once I was Mrs. Hyland, where could I go from there? There could be no coming back, no divorce lawyer who could wash away the stain of having actually been his wife. How could I go back to Saul’s organization, The Syndicate, after that? How could I go back to his bed? The short answer was, I couldn’t. If Sean insisted on this lunacy, he was forcing my hand into more than just marriage. He was imposing an entirely new life on me, a new job, a new social circle—if he ever allowed me out of this bloody room.
A shot of anger raced through me, my impotency swelling until it was difficult to take another breath. I still couldn’t believe this had happened. I’d been content with my life in a job I enjoyed with a decent group of friends. I’d finally found a man who respected me, a man I could envision a real future with, then this had happened. Now I was lucky if I could leave my damn chair, and when I did, Sean had me crouching over a bowl to relieve myself before I begged and pleaded for more of whatever pleased him.
If you’d have told me only a couple of weeks ago that this would be my fate, I’m certain I would have called you crazy, but not only was I Sean’s prisoner, in the haze of shadows and craving for the satisfaction he never offered, I couldn’t even contemplate how to escape. My head was a mess, spinning with every sound. Was that the creaking floorboard Sean approaching from behind the door? Was he about to arrive and turn my world on its head again?
Yes, he met my basic needs. He ensured I was fed and as clean as water and a sponge could achieve, but this neverending solitude was starting to drive me insane. Hours when only the noise of my frantic heartbeat kept me company, that and the slow progress of the slither of light—my only friend in this dark desolation. It had gotten to the point where I no longer knew what I wanted, wasn’t sure if I longed for Sean’s arrival, for human interaction, to be free of the chair at least. Or if I craved the boundless hours of seclusion, the time when I only had my thoughts for company.
Nothing seemed real anymore.
Just as the riddle burgeoned, threatening to implode in my mind once and for all, I heard the telltale sound of Sean’s imminent arrival, the noise of his tread reverberating until I swore I could actually feel the resonance.
Sean!
Once more, his approach brought with it an odd mixture of relief and trepidation. He was my only route out of this room. Whatever did or didn’t transpire—whether he compelled me to marry him, whether Saul came to my rescue, or in the short term, if I wanted to eat or ever get out of this bloody seat—I needed him in a very tangible way. Then there was the obvious reality of my predicament. Sean was the same man who’d snatched me from outside my home, pumped me full of sedative, and tormented me. There was nothing sane about being eager to see a man like that.
Just when I didn’t think the tension twisting inside could intensify any further, the key slid into the lock beyond the door. I’d heard the action countless times before, but still, each time it happened, my heart rate quickened, my throat drying as I tried to anticipate his next move. What mood would he be in when he opened that door? What would he want from me? Aside from the inevitable answer that he relished seeing me struggle, it was impossible to say, but knowing Sean, he wouldn’t keep me waiting long.
“There she is.” He threw the door open in triumph, my eyes blinking into the muted light it provided. “My bride-to-be.”
A shiver ran the length of my spine at his pronouncement. Frankly, I wasn’t certain I ever wanted to get married, let alone to some cocky criminal I didn’t really know.
“How have you been, gorgeous, a good girl, I hope?”
“Yes, Mr. Hyland, Sir.” I blew out a breath, the words he expected falling from my lips without a second thought.
Christ, what had happened to me? A few days in this anguished state and I’d ceded to his will, conditioned like an obedient pet to do his every bidding. The muscles at the apex of my thighs clenched at the debilitating thought. I loathed how he must perceive me—an easy blonde he could tie up and order around—but every time I tried to muster the energy to focus on who I really was, on the responses he deserved, Sean had an answer. An unceremonious trip over his knee for the type of humiliating spanking that left my head spinning and my arse in discomfort when he bound me to the chair again. A humbling request to demean me, often while he videoed the ordeal for so-called prosperity—he seemed to have a response for everything.
“Good girl.” He moved inside the room, closing the distance between us in a few strides. “Let me look at you.” One hand rose to my chin, pulling it north to meet his demanding eyes. “I have news, Hilary. News which may interest you.”
My belly tightened, anxiety pinballing. Anything that interested Sean was bound to mean more trouble for me, more reasons to worry, to cry, to be chastened.
“Want to hear my news?”
I blinked up at him, knowing there was only one acceptable answer.
“Yes, please, Sir.”
He lowered to his haunches, the hand at my chin grazing over my exposed breast en route to my knee. My breathing accelerated, my helplessness to prevent his exploration of my body arousing and vexing in equal measure, his sudden proximity doing nothing to assuage my apprehensions.
“It’s time to get you out of here.” He smiled, one side of his face eerily lit by the subdued light coming from the open doorway. “Time to clean you up. We’re going on a little trip tomorrow.”
“To get m-married?” I could barely get the words out, but I had to know. He’d repeatedly implied he wanted our nuptials to be as soon as possible, and despite my friendly slither of light, it was possible I’d misjudged the days, that this was it—my time was up.
“No, not yet.” He chuckled, tenderly patting my knee as if I said something amusing. “Though it’s good to see you’re excited about the upcoming big event.”
Excitement? Is that what I’d conveyed with my stammering reaction?
“This time, it’s a trip to see my legal man, a few documents for my new bride to sign.” He leaned closer, edging between my parted knees. “Before you get to sign the important one on the day itself.”
My brow furrowed. I still couldn’t believe he expected me to play along with this ludicrous plan to get married, but I knew countering him at this juncture wouldn’t help my cause. It wouldn’t get me out of this chair, or indeed, out of this blasted room, and from the things he said, there was a brief glimmer of hope that his plan might be a way out of here. In the end, I said the one thing I knew would please him, the only thing guaranteed to win his approval.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
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Also by Felicity Brandon
The Dark Necessities—Dalton's Tale
Tempted: The Dark Necessities—Dalton's Tale #1
Taunted: The Dark Necessities—Dalton's Tale #2
Tested: The Dark Necessities—Dalton's Tale #3
The Dark Necessities Prequels
Flawed
Fallen
Forbidden
The Gates of Fortorus
Her Dark Protector
His Dark Intention
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Her Dark Nemesis
The Kings of Dukes Series
The Bad Guy
The Rage and Revenge series.
Hyland's Property (Coming Soon)
Hyland's Consort (Coming Soon)
The Rule of Lawes
Captured
Countered
Watch for more at Felicity Brandon’s site.