Gilded Cage: A Dark Romance

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Gilded Cage: A Dark Romance Page 14

by Zoe Blake


  Elizabeth’s back arched off the desk, as her hands clawed at the surface.

  “Too much! Take it out! Take it out!”

  Laying my flat palm against her already bruised ass, I barked, “You’ll take every inch.”

  She fell back onto the desk, sobbing as I pummeled her body. Ruthlessly thrusting my cock in to the hilt, feeling her womb tremble with each touch. I watched as her body rocked back and forth on the smooth, hard surface of the wood.

  Reaching around her thighs, I felt for her pussy, flicking her tiny nub of nerves with the tip of my finger.

  Elizabeth groaned. “Oh, god. Yes.”

  “Tell me, baby. Tell Daddy how you want it.”

  She moaned and shifted her hips.

  “Say it. Tell me what I want to hear.” My breath was harsh with exertion as I increased the rhythm of my thrusts.

  As if I were a priest who had just wrenched her deepest, darkest confession free, she cried, “Make it hurt! Oh, god, forgive me. Make it hurt!”

  Dropping the belt, I grabbed a fistful of hair as I pulled her head back, wanting to see her back bow and her body open wider for me as I drove into her even harder. Working my other hand furiously between her legs, I pinched and rubbed her clit, knowing she was close. I could feel her orgasm cresting as her body tensed and shook.

  Her cry was more of a guttural moan from her open mouth as I felt the rush of her final arousal coat my cock.

  Tossing her limp body back onto the desk, I dug my fingers into her hips and let out a primal roar as I wreaked havoc on her trapped body. Feverishly driving my cock inside her over and over again. Reveling in the thought she would be sore and bruised for days after my assault.

  Pulling free, I fisted my cock as I took a step back. “On your knees.”

  Elizabeth slunk to the floor, a limp doll.

  Seizing her by the hair, I pulled her head up. “Swallow every drop,” I snarled. Feeling every inch the rutting beast, I came on her face and breasts. Thick streams of cum coated her pretty pink mouth as her tongue swiped at her bottom lip.

  Crouching down, I ran two fingers through my still warm cum, which had landed on the top curve of her breast. “Open your mouth.”

  She obeyed. I placed my fingers between her lips and moaned as she licked them clean.

  Holding her desire-hazed gaze with mine, I warned her, “Remember, my little bird. We’re playing a game. You don’t know the rules and have no chance of winning. You can’t escape. You are my pawn whether you like it or not. Do you understand me?”

  A single tear escaped down her cheek.

  She understood.

  Chapter 20

  Richard

  After placing Elizabeth’s sleeping form in my bed with a note for her to dress for dinner when she awakened, I returned to my office.

  As I would have expected, all of my belongings were neatly arranged on the surface of my desk. My staff were paid extremely well to never be seen or heard and to keep their mouths shut. Picking up my phone, I dialed Harris’ number as I stepped out onto the balcony.

  Inhaling deeply, I tried to calm the beast that was still snarling inside me.

  If possible, I was obsessed with Elizabeth now more than ever.

  She was everything I had been searching for in a woman.

  I could see ever more extreme games in our future. With my money, nothing was beyond the limits of my imagination. I could create whole worlds for us to play and fuck in.

  Flicking my tongue over the small puncture wound on my lip, I smiled. The taste of a victory soon won. This game was merely a prelude, level one. Already I was anticipating the next level, once I truly had her mind and body in the palm of my hand.

  Perhaps I would try that memory drug on her? It would be an interesting challenge to see if I could seduce her all over again. Imagine that? Never losing the rush of a first lust. The relationship would always be new, yet different.

  Or perhaps I would have her kidnapped and dropped in the middle of nowhere. An island I own in the South Pacific maybe? Absently stroking my jaw with my thumb, I thought it over. The idea had possibilities. The beast inside me growled in approval. Instead of hunting my prey within the confines of a concrete jungle filled with civil society, I could do so in the wild.

  A primal, no holds barred game.

  It had potential.

  That was what was so exhilarating about my little bird. Soon I would completely clip her wings and then nothing would be off limits.

  “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Harris. How is my construction project coming along?”

  “Very good, sir. The contractor says he’s having a hard time finding enough twenty-four-karat gold to overlay the entire cage and wants to know if he can lower the quality to fourteen karat?”

  “Absolutely not. Only the best for my girl.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you’ve made sure the dome is not taller than seven feet?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about the velvet swing?”

  “Ready to install as soon as the cage is finished.”

  “Excellent. Tell the contractor I’m going to need it by next week. I’ll double his fee but I want it finished.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tossing the phone aside, I placed my hands on the iron railing and looked out over the Thames, a rare feeling of quiet satisfaction engulfing me.

  It really was nice when a plan came together so perfectly.

  Lizzie

  Hands were holding me down. I struggled, twisting and turning my body, crying out. Opening my eyes, there was only darkness. My hands sawed the air feeling nothing. It was then I fully awakened to see a black silk sheet twisted and wrapped about my naked body. Snatching the sheet up high, my head turned as I searched my unfamiliar surroundings.

  The bed was impossibly large. Swiveling around to look at the headboard, I realized it was a massive mahogany sleigh bed. I had seen them before in furniture stores but never one so big. Stretching my arms wide, I realized the mattress continued on for several feet on either side, way bigger than a king-size bed.

  Did they make beds just for emperors? No, Richard wasn’t an emperor, maybe a czar; that name implied wealth and ruthlessness. But no, he was neither. He was, however, a very rich and powerful duke and I was firmly in his clutches.

  Lowering my head to my hands, I tried to make sense of the last few hours, from the kidnapping to allowing myself to be whipped and fucked over a desk.

  This had to be another one of his games, right?

  He was just keeping me off tilt, like the time in the restaurant where he made me believe I was sucking his cock in front of a room full of people, when I wasn’t, not really.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to remember our conversation but all I could think about was the feel of his belt on my ass, the way his cock filled me to the point of pain and my incredibly intense orgasm.

  Flopping back onto the bed, my hand closed over a piece of paper. Opening the heavy cream envelope, I read his note.

  We dine at eight p.m. Everything you need is in the dressing closet.

  —R

  My heart skipped at just seeing his familiar, confident black scrawl. Fuck, this man had me tied up in knots. I literally didn’t know my own mind anymore.

  Pulling the top sheet free from the rest of the covers, I wrapped it securely around me as I rose and went in search of a bathroom.

  The room was dripping in sensual luxury from its red silk fabric walls, to the black crystal chandelier, to the red velvet matching chaise lounges in front of an elaborately carved black marble fireplace so large I could stand in it.

  Despite the luxury, all I could think was it made for a perfect villain’s lair.

  There were two doors on either side of the fireplace. Picking the one closest to me, I swung it open and gasped.

  It wasn’t a bathroom but rather a massive walk-in closet, but unlike any closet I had ever seen. The room was bigger than my d
amn apartment! Backlit shelves lined every wall. Rows upon rows of designer clothes with matching shoes and purses.

  Walking slowly, I ran my fingertips over the dresses as I pulled out each one to examine it. A red velvet dress with thin straps and a deep plunge, a silver corset dress with full skirt, champagne silk under intricate black lace, all beautiful beyond my imagination. I couldn’t decide if my favorite was a Victorian riding habit-style dress with a gorgeous ink black taffeta skirt paired with a cream lace front blouse or the stunning emerald green silk with the tight bodice.

  Fournié, Gaultier, Valli, Sorbier, Chanel, Dior, Givenchy, Margiela, Vauthier.

  Each and every designer from the Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture was represented here. Dresses and designs I thought I would only be able to see in my textbooks and magazines, let alone touch and admire.

  What was even more astounding was each looked to be my size.

  Before I could even entertain jealous thoughts of other women, I could see from each hanger small handwritten tags in different inks and penmanship with my name and measurements.

  These were purchased and tailored just for me.

  An entire closet full of couture gowns.

  Turning, I began to pull out the drawers from the large dark wood island in the center of the room. Each one contained elegant gloves, Hermès scarves, Gucci belts, and every other imaginable accessory.

  Picking up the emerald green dress, I walked to the end of the closet to a small platform surrounded by ceiling-high gilt mirrors. Dropping the sheet, I held the gown before me. Imagining a strand of perfectly matched pearls at my throat and long silk black gloves stretched over my elbows. The gown would cinch in tight around my waist then flare around my hips to create the perfect hourglass shape.

  Dropping the gown, I turned my back on the mirror and looked over my shoulder. My ass was striped with several fading red welts from his belt.

  Evidence of our violent coupling.

  Reaching back, I traced one of the welts, hissing as it stung.

  There was no question I was in over my head with Richard. He was playing at a level far above me. The real question was… did I dare keep playing? Looking back down at the faint marks on my ass, I realized I probably didn’t have a choice.

  After all, I wasn’t the one making the rules.

  Chapter 21

  Lizzie

  “I haven’t seen you in ages!” exclaimed Jane as she entered our flat and came running over to give me a hug.

  I had spent the last two weeks over at Richard’s.

  His home was a beautifully restored Victorian mansion right in the center of Mayfair with an amazing view of the Thames. It wasn’t exactly a hard sell to get me to stay for a bit.

  It had been like a dream. Willfully forcing away any lingering questions I might have had about that infamous day, I focused on our future. Thankfully, he agreed and there was no more talk of when or how we met. Instead there were dinners, parties, trips to the museum, and nights filled with ever more increasingly kinky sex games.

  Unfortunately, he was still a very busy man with numerous companies to run, so most of my days were spent curled up on a large floor cushion at the end of his office reading as I watched him work. It really was thrilling to observe him take the helm and command his countless employees. I could easily see how someone as confident and intelligent as he had amassed so many billions.

  Eventually, I convinced him to let me return to classes but only until he could arrange for private tutors for me. He was in the process of hiring some of the best designers to come and personally teach me. I couldn’t say no, even if I wanted to. The fact was no one said no to Richard.

  It had taken longer to convince him to let me stay at my old flat a few nights a week. He finally capitulated after I agreed to a bodyguard who would be stationed outside the door at all times.

  Still, I was enjoying my small breath of freedom.

  The further away from him I got, the more space I felt to think over our relationship and all that had transpired. It was if a mist was slowly dissipating before my eyes. Once more those nagging questions began to creep forward.

  Who was that woman?

  What did he mean about us meeting much earlier than that day with the cab?

  Even further back questions began to surface.

  Just how did he know where I lived? Or what school I was enrolled in? I was absolutely certain I hadn’t mentioned those details to him.

  As Jane stepped back from our hug, her shirt caught on my pin. It was another jewel-encrusted bird pin. I couldn’t remember what designer. He had given me so many at this point. It seemed like every day I was finding one on my pillow or resting on the book I was reading or presented to me over dinner.

  I now had a small menagerie of birds, each with cold black diamond eyes.

  “Oops! No, I got it. Just twist. There you go!” Smiling, I walked over to my bird’s gold cage and cooed to Dior and Coco. I missed their pretty morning songs these past few weeks. “Thanks for taking care of my birds.”

  Jane waved her hand dismissively. “No problem. I’m actually getting to like the little stinkers. I’ve even let them fly around the room a few times each day.”

  Jane flopped down on the sofa and patted the cushion near her. “So how is life among the rich and famous?”

  “It’s pretty amazing. Crazy really,” I answered as I sat on the sofa and settled against the throw pillows.

  “You know I’m insanely jealous of you and have to restrain myself from killing you and taking your place, right?” she teased.

  Laughing, I nodded. I missed her.

  “You are back just in time. The auditions are tomorrow.”

  “What auditions?”

  “For The Lady Protests, that Victorian play I told you about. Remember, you were going for the part of the parlor maid?”

  I had forgotten all about it. Being kidnapped by your overly controlling possessive boyfriend will do that to you.

  “Don’t tell me your new man won’t let you audition,” she grumbled.

  Straightening my shoulders, I felt a rebelliousness uncurl in my stomach. Richard had been not only monopolizing my time but my thoughts as well. Dictating when and where we ate, and what I wore when we went out. Hell, he was even picking what I read. Each time I neared the end of a book, I would find another book resting under it. True, he always picked out the perfect titles for me but still.

  It wasn’t like I was going to get the part. I had very little acting experience. Before their accident, my parents were very much against me pursuing it as a career so they would never pay for lessons or allow me to go out for pageants or plays.

  Biting my lip, I stared down at my bird pin.

  There was no denying Richard would not want me to audition. I knew that without even having to ask, which is probably why I never broached the subject with him. A lie by omission.

  He would see this as a betrayal, pure and simple.

  Did I dare?

  Suddenly wanting to get a little of myself back, I decided I would dare to defy the beast.

  Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Of course I’m coming. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Jane interlaced her fingers with mine and bounced on the sofa as she squealed in delight. “Come on! Let’s go raid your closet for what I’m going to wear!”

  I wish I could feel her same enthusiasm. The moment I agreed to defy Richard, a cold sense of dread settled over me.

  The next day, I popped my head out the front door of my flat.

  Trying to keep my voice calm and casual, I said, “Hey, John. Just wanted to check if you needed anything. I’m going to take a long bath with the radio on so I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “I’m fine, Miss Larkin. Thank you.”

  “Are you sure? Because I’m going to have the radio on so I won’t hear it if you knock.”

  Stop talking! You’re going to make him suspicious.

  He nodded. “Thank you, miss.
I’m fine.”

  Closing the door, I leaned over and tapped my iPod player. I had queued up Guns N’ Roses’ Use Your Illusion album. It was loud and long. Not really bath time music but hopefully John wouldn’t think that.

  As ‘November Rain’ started playing, I crept back to the door and gingerly picked up the chain. Careful not to make any noise, I slowly slid it in place. If John were to come looking for me, the chain would slow him down at least for an extra couple of seconds.

  Well, the lying to Richard’s bodyguard part of the plan was easy enough.

  Heading to my bedroom, I picked up my backpack and put it on my shoulders. Going over to the window, I eased the frame open, cringing when it squeaked loudly. Holding my breath, I waited. No questioning knock from John.

  Pushing the old wooden framed window up higher, I crept onto the metal fire escape and carefully made my way down the steep stairs till I reached the street. Checking my surroundings, I quickly ran to the underground station.

  Hopefully by the time I reached the theater my heart would stop racing.

  Who knew disobeying Richard could be so exciting?

  “You’re late!” complained Jane as she paced in the theater lobby.

  Opening the door, she ushered us both into the dark back of the theater.

  “Sorry! Tube was running slow,” I whispered as there were two actors auditioning on the stage.

  There was no way I was telling her I had to sneak out of my bedroom window because I didn’t want my boyfriend to know I was here. It was awkward enough explaining our new friend and constant companion, John the bodyguard, to her last night.

  It felt odd calling Richard my boyfriend. It was too tame and too sweet of a word for him and our relationship. Boyfriends were the guys you dated in high school and college. The guy who bought you slightly wilted supermarket flowers when he screwed up and never remembered your birthday. That was a boyfriend.

  Richard was something seriously next level. Protective, possessive, intense, sexy… there should be a word to describe that kind of man in your life, except I was pretty sure there weren’t many men like Richard out there.

 

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