He had my hand pulled up over my back, my other hand trapped between his body and mine. I kicked my feet, but he wrapped a leg over my flailing legs, pinning me in place. His breathing came hard and fast, deep inhales thundered out of his chest. I twisted and fought, but couldn’t move. I had underestimated him.
“Punishment is a consequence of a failure to follow the rules. Let this be your first lesson.”
I squirmed in his lap as a whistling filled the air. The sound was followed by a crack over my backside. I howled at the flare of pain lighting my skin on fire. It hurt so damn much. Before I could take another breath, he struck again, and again, and again. He rained down a flurry of blows with that deceptive looking stick.
I found myself hyperventilating. Screaming was impossible as I had no breath to make sound. The pain cracked down to the bone. I had never felt something so intense and wanted to die. Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. He rubbed my bottom, soothing the ache. I was certain he had split the skin, but felt no sign that would indicate blood.
What I did feel was something much more concerning. Beneath me, the full force of his arousal pressed against my belly, but that wasn’t what I found mortifying. Wetness soaked the silk of my panties. A flare of desire curled in my core, sending tendrils of heat to my womb.
His labored breathing signified more than exertion from the strikes he’d given me. My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to put distance between us, but he held me down and he rubbed at my tenderized flesh. The burn began to ease up, but that only allowed a new heat to stir between my legs.
I needed off his lap.
“Let me go.” I pushed, earning me a strangled groan from him as I brushed against his erection.
He pressed me down onto his lap. “Do not move.” He sucked in deep breaths.
I wiggled, desperate to be free of him.
He slapped my ass. “Damn it, if you move again, I won’t be responsible for what happens next. Do. Not. Move.”
I bit my lip. Terrified by what he was admitting. I didn’t dare move.
Many seconds passed. Xavier took control of his breathing, even as his arousal continued to press against me.
Tears pricked at my eyes. My butt burned from that damn stick. Worse, he had ignited a slow burn in my core I did not understand. It fizzled away to nothing as I lay draped over his lap, but the memory of the heat left me confused.
Eventually, he lifted me off his lap and dumped me unceremoniously on the ground. As he stood, he adjusted his erection and wiped his brow. He stepped over me and took five steps before turning back around.
“You will be punished each time you fail to adhere to my rules.” He pointed to the door as he adjusted himself. “You need to leave…now.”
“And if I don’t?” Why the hell did I say that? I didn’t need to spend any longer in this man’s presence. What kind of spell did he have on me?
He captured me in his gaze, holding me prisoner by nothing more than the power of his presence. His Caribbean eyes shifted, turning a deep shade of blue. Darkness lurked there, along with an inescapable hunger. There were no illusions as to what that hunger might be.
I ignored the urgent message in his gaze, the one which told me to flee, transfixed as I was by his power. His magnetism pulled at me, the danger a potent drug.
He came at me, powerful muscles shifting and bunching as he descended on me, a ruthless predator coming for his prey. Calm acceptance overcame me as his gaze dipped to my lips and his mouth parted in anticipation. He gathered me in his arms, his touch electrifying my skin. Jolts of pleasure coursed along my nerves, twisting and shooting along a path headed to the core of my being.
He leaned in, mouth open, head tilted for a kiss, but he pulled back at the last moment, aborting the kiss. His hands shook where he held me, and his husky voice washed over me.
“If you don’t leave right now, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be responsible for what happens.”
The strain in his voice warbled in my ears, setting off alarms. I looked in his eyes, a direct violation of the first rule. Why was he letting me go?
Like a fool, I wanted to ask, but the warning in his eyes told me he had stretched his control to his limit. Despite my body’s response, I didn’t want him to touch me, not like that, not without my consent. The heat he stoked in my core made it blatantly clear he was not the only one affected. As twisted as this thing was between us, I had to admit a horrible truth. His touch electrified me.
I needed to restore balance, both for myself and to remind him of my defiance. I straightened my skirt and stared him in the eyes.
“I’ll consider your rules, but you need to reconsider number one…” My voice was a breathy whisper as I gave my concession. Then I sprinted out of the aviary.
I was terrified he would chase me, half hopeful he would try, and sick to my stomach that I cared at all.
Chapter Eight
Bay and Chad greeted me outside the aviary rather than Mel and Ben. I suppose their shift had started and Bay and Chad were now in charge. I wiped tears off my cheeks as I barreled out of the glass doors, leaving the beauty of the indoor oasis behind me and the monster inside.
“Easy, kitten.” Chad’s easy eyes softened as he witnessed my flight. He put out a hand.
“Stop calling me that! I’m not your damn kitten!”
He held his hands up and backed away as I brushed past him. My fingers curled and clenched as I stomped away from my guards. My backside throbbed from Xavier’s punishment.
Bay’s phone beeped. He read a text, answered, and waited for the reply. Then he looked to Chad.
“We’re to take her to the kitchen for food.”
“I thought Master Xavier was having breakfast with her,” Chad said.
“Plans changed.” Bay gave a shrug.
I came to an intersection of hallways and pulled up short. This place was a maze to me. I had no idea where anything was in relation to my cell of a room. I failed in my escape plans because I should’ve been paying better attention. My confusion forced me to wait on my jailers to catch up, and I realized how dependent I was on them for everything.
Wasn’t there a psychological paradox prisoners went through? Some identification and association they had with their captors? Was I falling for Xavier? I wasn’t fighting Ben, Mel, Bay, or Chad. They led and I followed, and I didn’t want to think about my reactions to Xavier.
My guards made it difficult because they’d been nothing but polite, almost as if they were going out of their way not to hurt me. They used words to subdue, rather than force to coerce. Other than the initial takedown, they’d been surprisingly gentle.
My reaction to Xavier opened thoughts I didn’t want to face. Did I deserve what was happening to me because of some sickness in my head? Did I crave this darkness? Self-loathing and doubt filled my soul.
I wrapped my arms around myself and held back a sob. Self-doubt filled me with recrimination and I hated how my body came to life around Xavier. Pain lodged itself at the base of my skull, a headache in the making. I wanted to cry, but I’d done enough of that. What I felt was hollow and lost. I was tired of feeling powerless and victimized.
My expectations weren’t fitting with reality. I expected Xavier to rape and abase me, to strip and torture me, force me to commit unspeakable acts, and violate me in every way imaginable. Instead, I’d been pampered, given my own room, and met with the man who claimed me twice without the rape I feared. I suffered his kisses, and endured the traitorous reactions of my body. He melted me from the inside out, and whatever had happened inside that aviary left me reeling. Instead of assaulting me, he had forced me from his presence, almost as if he was terrified he would cross a line. Why was he leaving me alone?
Even his guards handled me with kid gloves. There was more going on here. Discover that and maybe I wouldn’t feel powerless.
Bay and Chad led me in silence, winding through corridors as I drifted inside my mind. We passed through the stark
white opulence of Xavier’s home, giving me a glimpse into my captor’s personality. What appeared to be understated decor on first blush was really an eclectic collection of the most amazing works of art and sculptures. Sunlight streamed through the open plantation styled shutters, casting a warm glow to the expanse of white inside and made the sculptures shine.
We traveled over Egyptian marble, Travertine stone, and thick Persian wool. Each room’s dominant color was a shade of white and gray, which subtly accentuated the art displayed on the walls and in specially designed niches dispersed throughout the estate.
Did he decorate the house himself? Is what I saw a reflection of his unique touch?
Soon the sounds of cutlery clinking, and plates clacking, sounded down the hall. The aromas of a kitchen coaxed me forward. My stomach rumbled. Rich coffee blended with the billowing flavors of bread baking. My mouth watered and I realized I had not eaten last night. I had been put to bed without supper. Had that been intentional? Or was Xavier not taking good care of his new pet. From what little I knew, I had no doubt it had been intentional.
Bay, Chad, and I rounded a corner, and I halted as the kitchen came into view. Here, unlike the rest of the house, the dominant color of white disappeared. This place had a weight to it, full of roughhewn wood and stone, almost as if I had been thrown back hundreds of years into an old-world castle.
An open brick oven crackled with a wood fire raging inside of it. Shelves beside the oven held loaves of bread baking, while cast iron hooks suspended pots which bubbled over the burning logs. A massive plank table dominated the center of the room. Flour covered one end and several men stood around it kneading and rolling out dough. At the far end of the table, others perched on tall stools and chopped vegetables. A rack of copper pots hung over their heads casting a golden glow over the entire room. A smaller table stood to the side. Four men gathered around it with large carving knives. They hacked at the carcass of some animal, butchering it into smaller pieces.
Stainless steel appliances and gas stovetops blended in seamlessly with the fireplace and old world brick ovens. A miniature army worked at preparing food, but what amazed me most were the deep Caribbean blue tiles decorating the floor and backsplashes behind the counters. Even here, Xavier’s presence followed me.
To my right, floor to ceiling wooden shelving stood behind a wall of glass. Crates, turned on edge, held countless bottles of wine. A gauge mounted on the wall appeared to monitor the internal temperature of the wine cellar. In front of the glass wall, three bistro tables sat with matching chairs, a tiny oasis of calm in the busy kitchen. My stomach twisted at all the strangeness around me. I didn’t think I’d be able to eat, but my stomach growled at the wonderful aromas swirling around me and filled my nostrils with delicious scents.
Bay pulled me over to one of the bistro tables. “What would you like, little one?” His dark brown eyes looked on me with compassion and concern.
“What do they have?”
He smiled. “Anything you want. Master Xavier keeps a well-stocked pantry.”
My lips curled thinking of that man. “Does everyone call him master?” My stomach growled loudly, causing me to clutch at my belly.
“Yes.” Bay’s gaze flicked to my stomach and he grinned. “What do you usually eat for breakfast?”
“Coffee.” I wasn’t big on breakfast and Bay’s response had my stomach reeling. He hadn’t hesitated in answering my question.
“Coffee I can do, but we have orders to feed you, and you missed dinner last night.” His eyes returned to my stomach as if cutting off my refusal of food. “How about eggs and toast,” he offered.
Ugh, I hated eggs. “Toast? I’m sorry, but I’m not that hungry.”
“Your stomach says otherwise.” Bay said with admonishment.
Chad came over, balancing a plate of meat and cheese on top of a bowl of oatmeal.
I looked at the oatmeal and grimaced.
Chad placed his food on the table and pulled up a chair. “You need more than toast,” he said, and pushed the plate of meat and cheese toward me.
Bay left and returned with two steaming mugs. “I don’t know how you take your coffee.” He lifted one. “This one is black.” He lifted the other. “This one has sugar and cream.”
I reached for the first one and he lifted a brow. “Hm, guessed wrong.” Bay grabbed a stool and joined us at the table.
I picked at the meat and cheese while sipping at my coffee. Chad and Bay watched in silence. A short while later, an older man approached with a plate of toast, butter and jam. He put it down in front of me, and then placed a tray of cinnamon rolls in the center of the table. The heady aroma of cinnamon had my mouth watering and I looked at the plate.
Bay laughed as he reached over and separated a roll the size of his fist. “Thought so, little one.” He lifted the gooey mess and plopped it down on my plate. “Eat.”
He and Chad exchanged glances as my eyes fixed on him. I’d been outplayed and they knew it. Again, where was the evil in my captors? Were they planning to drown me in sweetness and fatten me up for slaughter?
Bay’s phone beeped. He read a text and his eyes widened. He turned the phone to Chad who read it with the same surprised reaction. “If that’s what he wants.”
“His orders,” Bay said, lifting his brows.
Chad shrugged. “Okay.” He pushed back from the table. “I’ll meet you in the library.” He swiped a cinnamon roll and shoved half the pastry into his mouth. His eyes closed with delight as he chewed.
Bay gave a nod and reached for a roll, waving as Chad disappeared.
I couldn’t refuse and took a small bite. Heavenly sweetness, it easily had to be the best cinnamon roll I had ever tasted in my life.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Bay’s mouth was full of dough and icing dribbled down his chin. He licked his lips and wiped his face. “Finish your breakfast, little one.”
“That was him, wasn’t it? That text?” I glanced at Bay’s phone resting on the table and pointed at it.
Bay stopped chewing and regarded me slowly.
“He gives you orders on it?”
He nodded.
“What did he say?”
The beat of my heart increased. Anything associated with Xavier that involved me terrified me. Only now, that terror combined with something I didn’t want to acknowledge. My appetite fled as queasiness replaced the growling of my stomach. I put the cinnamon roll down and fought against an acid burn rising in my esophagus. I had to take deep breaths, because I felt like I was going to throw up, and I didn’t want to do that in front of a kitchen full of witnesses. My terror stemmed from a growing sickness inside me. I wanted to see Xavier and I shouldn’t want anything to do with him.
“Finish your food, little one,” Bay said.
“I’m not hungry.” I pushed my plate away.
Bay arched a brow. He shoved the last bite of his cinnamon roll in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then he leaned back and crossed his arms. “My orders are to make sure you eat.” He pointed to my plate, to the one tiny bite I’d taken. “You’re not fed. Master Xavier will not be pleased with me if I don’t follow his orders, and you know what happens when he’s not pleased.”
“He’s going to spank me again?”
“Not you.”
I gave a start. Surely Bay wasn’t serious. “You?”
Bay laughed, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” Bay flushed, “but failure to follow orders carries consequences for us all.”
“What does that mean?” I didn’t understand the root of Bay’s embarrassment and didn’t care to travel down that path.
“Only that we’re not leaving until I’m satisfied you’ve eaten a proper breakfast. If you refuse, then you and I are going to have a conversation, one that won’t go well for you.” His arms remained crossed over his chest, emphasizing the expanse of his biceps and the difference in our relative sizes.
“You can’t m
ake me eat, Bay.”
He arched a brow. “I’ll do what’s required. As long as you obey, you and I will get along well; as we have been so far.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Things get complicated. None of us want that for you, little one.” Sincerity filled his voice. His smooth, friendly tones remained easy going, but I didn’t miss the threat implied. What surprised me was the regret in his chocolate brown eyes. Bay didn’t want to hurt me. He really wanted to make things as easy as they could be, given my circumstances.
In that moment, my heart warmed to my gentle guard.
My stomach rolled, however. There was no way I would keep something as heavy and sweet as that roll down.
Then I realized what the text must mean. “He’s waiting for me, isn’t he?”
Bay nodded.
The bite of cinnamon roll I swallowed tried to revisit my mouth. I gulped against the nausea threatening to bring everything back up.
“Bay, can you get me something else?” I pushed the plate with the roll on it away. “Something I won’t throw up?”
“Don’t move, little one. I’ll be right back.” His eyes softened and he nodded.
Bay was a saint. Not only did he get warm broth to soothe my rebellious stomach, but he cleared the offensive tray of cinnamon rolls off the table so I wouldn’t have to look at them while I ate. He brought the broth, plus a new plate of plain toast. Under his watchful eye, I swallowed every bite, wondering what punishment a guard would be forced to endure.
“Are you ready?” he asked, once I’d cleared my plate.
Ready for Round Three?
“Not at all.” I gave a curt nod and shrugged.
“It’ll get easier, little one. Just remember your rules and you’ll do fine. Master Xavier is not the monster you want to believe him to be.”
“He’s not? Then let me go.”
Bay shook his head. “That will not happen.”
“Then don’t tell me he’s not a monster.”
She’s Mine: A Captive Romance Page 6