by Gemma James
I gritted my teeth and did the only thing I could think of to cool the fire. I thought of Rick. Replayed the day I escaped with Eve. I’d been two weeks postpartum when he’d beaten me in a drunken rage. Hours later, when I thought he’d finally passed out for the night, I’d grabbed Eve and hobbled toward the door. He’d come out of nowhere with the knife. Eve had been thrown into the corner, and I thanked God every day she hadn’t been seriously hurt, though a broken arm had been serious enough.
After a while Gage tensed and shuddered, and I knew it was over. For now.
He withdrew and disposed of the condom “You’ve got impressive restraint. Not many women can hold back so well, not that they come here under your circumstances. I suspect that might have more to do with it. You feel forced.”
My emotions were too close to the surface. On the heels of remembering in vivid detail how I’d escaped with my life—how Eve’s future had depended on it—my rage exploded. I whirled around and pushed him. “That’s because you did force me! Master,” I bit out the last word as if it were poison. “You might be able to elicit a reaction from my body, but you’ll never get the one you’re truly after. You’ll never have my eager participation.” I took a step forward, emboldened by the stunned expression on his face. “It was easy to control myself. All I had to do was think of my ex-husband and how he nearly stabbed me to death.”
Gage pressed his hand over my mouth. “I’d watch your tone. Don’t villainize me—you’re the one who stole ten grand. You signed the contract.”
I pushed his hand away. “What you’re doing is wrong, Gage. Punish me if you wish. Do your worst. You couldn’t possibly hurt me more than he did.” I turned my back on him, mostly because I figured it would piss him off.
I wasn’t prepared for his laughter. “I do love a challenge. Sleep well, Kayla.”
I hugged myself, and as his feet thumped up the stairs, I wanted to curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep. He shut the door, and the sound echoed through the basement, through the empty chamber of my heart.
5. INQUISITION
The following morning Gage ordered me into the bathtub. He sat on the edge, instructing me on how he expected me to bathe daily. The regimen he wanted me to follow would take a nice chunk out of my mornings, but I wasn’t about to negotiate with him, not so long as the hard glint remained in his eyes. The new day had dawned with clarity; I’d gone too far the previous night. Now I had nothing to do but wait until he decided to dish out my punishment. My ass still stung from the one he’d given the night before—a constant reminder to call him “Master.”
“I’m going to prepare breakfast. After you finish here, I expect you to wait on your knees until I return.”
I gulped. “Why, Master?” I stood on the bathmat, tightly clutching the towel around my body. It didn’t matter that he’d already seen me, had touched my most private places. I’d never be comfortable parading around naked in front of him.
“Because I ordered you to.”
He left, and I waited until the echo of the door rang through the basement before I dried off. I took my time blow-drying my hair and applying makeup, but eventually I couldn’t stall any longer. He still hadn’t returned. With nothing else to do, I moved to the middle of the room and sank to my knees.
My thoughts drifted to Eve. I wondered what she was doing—was she eating breakfast? I hoped they were able to get her to eat something. I also thought of Ian. Had he checked on her already? Suddenly, excitement fluttered in my stomach. If I behaved the way Gage wanted me to, took my punishment without complaint and sucked up to the bastard, maybe he’d let me call to check on her. I wondered if I’d get lucky enough to catch Ian at the hospital. Gage didn’t have to know that “Dr. Kaplan” was more to me than a doctor.
I jumped as the door opened. He leisurely strolled down the stairs and stopped inches in front of me. He had no qualms about displaying the bulge behind his zipper. I looked up at him as dread squeezed my insides.
“I expect you to greet me on your knees from here on out. Understand?”
“Yes, Master,” I answered automatically, though in reality I didn’t understand any of it. How could anyone treat another human being this way? Maybe I was the damaged one, and abusive men naturally flocked to me.
“Hungry?” he asked.
How did I answer that? My stomach growled, yet I feared he wasn’t talking about food. “Yes, Master.”
His mouth curved into a grin. “Seeing you on your knees, calling me Master . . .” He rubbed himself. “Do you know what that does to me?”
“No, Master,” I said, as if denying the evidence of his arousal would make it go away.
“You please me, Kayla. You’ve caught on quickly, faster than I thought you would.”
I lowered my eyes.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
There was no mistaking the authority in his tone. I raised my eyes and didn’t dare look away. Not with my ass still sore from the whipping he’d given me last night. Twenty-four hours hadn’t passed, and already I’d been reduced to a pathetic woman on my knees, my sole purpose to service and obey a man. Deep within, I silently screamed in rebellion and indignation. I hadn’t hated myself this much since before my divorce.
He held out his hand, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Come on, breakfast awaits.”
I couldn’t begin to describe my relief as I rose to my feet. Confronted with his arousal while on my knees made me ill. He led me upstairs, and I fought the urge to cover my breasts. I’d never walked around my own apartment naked, so the idea of walking around his home in the nude made me vulnerable on a whole new level. I suspected that was his intention.
We entered the dining room, and he dumped a bag of uncooked rice onto the hardwood floor next to the table. “Your punishment for getting mouthy with me last night.” He pointed to the rice. “On your knees again.”
I sank down, gritting my teeth as the grains dug into my skin.
Gage sat in a chair and began feeding me fruit. He fed breakfast to me bite-by-bite, and by the time he spooned up some yogurt, I wanted to slather my burning knees with it.
“I want to talk about your previous sexual experience.” He fed me another spoonful of yogurt. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” he continued, “and I want your complete honesty. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Have you ever had anal sex?”
I lowered my head without thinking. What the question implied terrified me; I couldn’t breathe.
“Kayla? I won’t remind you again to look at me when I’m talking to you. Next time it happens, you’ll be punished.”
My gaze immediately shot to his.
He smiled. “That’s better. Now answer the question.”
“Once, Master,” I said, my voice so low that he asked me to repeat myself.
“Did you like it?”
I shook my head, my throat constricting as the memories I’d worked so hard to bury burst through and flooded my mind.
“Why not?” He sounded genuinely curious.
“I-I . . . he forced me.”
His face darkened. “And now you think I’m doing the same.” It was a statement rather than a question.
I narrowed my eyes. “Because you are. You blackmailed me.” I tempered my tone and added, “I had no choice, Master.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I know I crossed a line with you, Kayla. I’ve had many women, and to be perfectly honest, they bored me. I wanted a woman who values self-respect, who is classy enough to refrain from bedding every man she meets. I wanted you.”
I wanted to ask how I’d gotten so unlucky to be wanted by him, but remembering my hope to call the hospital, I bit my tongue.
He held out a hand. “You can get up now.” I grabbed his hand and stood, then wiped the rice from my knees. Gage gestured toward the chair closest to him. “You can sit.”
I sat down and didn’t think twice about cros
sing my legs and arms. One look at his heated expression reminded me of his rules. I let my arms fall like noodles at my sides, then uncrossed my legs and opened them several inches so he could see all of me.
He gave an imperceptible nod of approval and pushed my plate in front of me. “Finish eating. I have a few more questions.”
I remained silent and bit into a piece of toast.
“How many men have you slept with?”
“Two, Master,” I said, then immediately shook my head. “I mean three . . . since you . . .”
A smile teased his lips. “That’s what I thought. I respect you for abstaining from the slutty behavior of most women. “Who were your lovers?
“My ex-husband and . . .”
Gage tapped his fingers on the table. “And?”
“A guy I knew in college, Master.”
He frowned. “Sounds like there’s more about this guy from college than you’re letting on. Did you love him?”
“That’s none of your business!”
His mouth flattened into a line, and I immediately regretted the outburst. “That’s where you’re wrong. If I say it’s my business, then it is.” He pushed his chair back and stood, his hands bunching at his sides. “Were you in love with him?” There was no bend to his expression, no room for sympathy. Certainly no room for compromise. I was his, and he’d do with me as he pleased. Even if it meant making me answer what should have been a simple question.
“Yes, Master. I loved him.” My rebellious nature rose, but I squashed it.
“Are you still in love with him?”
Oh shit. Would he believe me if I lied? Probably not. “It’s been years, Master.”
“That isn’t what I asked. Answer the question, Kayla.”
“Why does it matter to you?” Smooth move, idiot. Keep pissing him off and he’ll never give you access to a phone.
He jerked a chair out from the table and sat. “Come here now.”
I inched toward him. With swift agility, he reached out and pulled me over his knee.
My body tensed as his hand came down. “Are you in love with him?”
“Yes!” This punishment was more humiliating than painful.
“I want you to say ‘I will not backtalk my Master’ after every swat of your ass.”
Smack!
“I will not backtalk my Master.”
Smack!
I was wrong. Every strike of his hand grew more painful, and he didn’t stop after just a few. He counted the spankings, his voice cool and mechanical. I was openly crying, struggling to recite the words with a semblance of coherency by the time he passed forty. He released me at fifty. “Sit down, Kayla.”
I staggered back, then eased into my chair with a wince.
“Don’t test me again. You won’t like the outcome.” He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. “Now, let’s see if we can have a civilized conversation free of outbursts.”
I was seething inside as I swiped the tears from my face. I scooped up a bite of yogurt before I lost my temper again.
“What is it about this man that has captured you so?”
I didn’t know how to answer. It’d been so long since Ian had been a part of my life, and we’d barely had a chance before a surprise pregnancy had tipped my world upside down and I’d made the mistake of going back to my ex. That mistake had cost me my first baby. “I can’t answer, Master. Not because I’m being difficult, but it’s been seven years. A lot has happened. I don’t know why there’s still a part of me holding on.”
“Did he satisfy you in bed?”
I felt my face grow warm. “Yes, Master.”
Gage went silent for a few moments, and I took the opportunity to broach the subject of a phone call. “Can I ask you something, Master?”
He considered me carefully. “Go ahead.”
“I’m worried about Eve. Would you . . . allow me the privilege of calling the hospital to check on her?”
“No.”
I jumped out of my chair. “How can you be such a cold-hearted bastard?”
Displaying an irritating air of calm that nicked at my anger, Gage rose from his chair and crossed the dining room without a word. He halted in front of the tall hutch in the corner and withdrew something from a drawer. My stomach sank when I recognized the ball gag in his hands, similar to the one he’d used the previous night. He closed the distance between us and held it to my mouth. I clinched my jaw, displaying one last hint of fiery anger, then parted my lips. Fighting him would only make things worse—I was beginning to understand this game he played.
Gage grabbed my hand and led me back to the basement. He took a seat in an overstuffed chair and pointed to the floor. I gave him a questioning look, as I wasn’t sure what he wanted.
“I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you, Kayla.” He raised a brow. “You know your place by now, so stop being stubborn. Obey me.”
I dropped to my knees.
“We’ll discuss phone privileges another time, perhaps when you’ve found a way to reign in that mouth.”
He didn’t speak to me for the next hour. Drool trailed down my chin, dripped onto my breasts, and my knees ached and burned. He sat, a perfect picture of calm, reading a book while I suffered in silence. The stubborn part of me refused to give an inch. I wouldn’t move, wouldn’t shift and squirm or make a sound. I’d match him calm and raise him in strength any day.
6. FORBIDDEN RELEASE
Dinner went much more smoothly than breakfast. I managed to make it through the entire meal without a cross look from Gage or a punishment. Upon returning to the basement, he led me straight to the bench. My composure shattered.
“What are you doing, Master?” I resisted, which only caused him to firm his hold on me. “Why? What did I do?” I made him drag me across the room, thrashing the whole way.
“Knock this off right now!” He bent me over and spanked my ass. “Now crawl onto the bench before I issue a repeat of this morning.”
I climbed up and got into position, and like the night before, he strapped me in. My body shook, from the chill in the room, from my absolute vulnerability. I jerked when his hands kneaded my ass.
“Don’t hurt me, Master.”
His hands smoothed up my back. “You need to learn to trust me. I won’t punish you unless you deserve it. Have you done anything to deserve it tonight?”
I hadn’t thought so.
“Answer me.”
“No, Master.”
“This isn’t about punishment.” He swept my hair to the side, then trailed his fingers down my spine. “We’re going to explore anal play,” he said. “I don’t want this to be traumatic for you, so we’ll ease into it by using a butt plug, but eventually I want to fuck your ass.”
“Don’t do this.” My voice broke.
“If you want me to stop, you have the power in one little word, Kayla.”
I whimpered as he spread my cheeks. Oh, God, it was going to hurt. He was bigger than my ex, and when Rick had forced himself into that tight space, I hadn’t been able to sit down for days. I’d been a week postpartum, and he hadn’t wanted to wait for me to heal after giving birth.
He moved away and opened a cupboard, then returned a few moments later. His cool hands slid over my butt again. I felt trapped, absolutely helpless. I could do nothing to stop him, short of saying the word that would void our contract. We both knew that wasn’t going to happen. A squirting sound broke the utter quiet in the basement, and Gage applied a cold, jelly-like substance.
I automatically tensed as he dipped a finger inside.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
I gritted my teeth. “It burns, Master.”
“Relax your ass.”
I willed my mind past the pain and concentrated on releasing the tension in my body.
“Better?” he asked.
Surprisingly, it was. “Yes.”
He used his fingers for a while before introducing the butt plug. “You need to stay re
laxed. If you don’t it’ll only hurt more.”
“Please, Master, don’t. I’m not ready for this.”
“Yes, you are. You’re only fighting it because you’re scared. I won’t hurt you, but you’ve gotta loosen up.” He slowly inched in the plug, and I let out a screeching cry.
“Stop,” I sobbed. “Please . . . stop.” I fought against the restraints until the leather cuffs bit into my tender skin.
“Relax your muscles,” he said again. The pressure in my rectum increased as he shoved it all the way in. He reached between my legs and circled my clit. “Let your body adjust to it.” Something about the husky quality of his voice caused tingles to spread through me; I was stunned to find myself aroused.
What the hell was this man doing to me?
“How does it feel now?”
I wet my lips and tasted the salt of my tears. “Weird, Master.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“A little.” Not like it had when my ex had forced his way in there. Maybe the difference lay in the preparation.
He crawled onto the bench and straddled me from behind, and I heard him unzip his pants. Gage pressed against my back and whispered directly into my ear, “Are you turned on?”
“Yes, Master.” Humiliation washed over me.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
I gave him the answer he wanted to hear. “Yes, Master.”
Before I could take my next breath, he thrust into me. I was already wet and ready for him. The pressure from the butt plug heightened the pleasure, making each plunge a sensation that drove me closer to losing control. I moved with him as he pumped in and out, no longer caring if I was acting like a desperate hussy. The need inside me clawed to the surface; I could deny it no longer. I was on the verge of release, breaths coming in gasping pants, when he painfully fisted my hair.
“Not yet, baby. Not until I give you permission.”
“Gage—” I cried out again, barely managing to reign in my orgasm. “I can’t, Master!”
He groaned. “Yes you can.”
I dug my fingernails into the leather of the bench, groaned as the pressure built to the erupting point. “Please, Master . . . please . . .”