by Terri Pray
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Hunted! [Celeste's Captivity II]
by Terri Pray
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Erotica/Romance
Copyright ©
ISBN
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NOTICE: This ebook is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Duplication of this ebook by beaming, email, network, disk, paper, or any other method is a violation of international copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment.
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CELESTE'S CAPTIVITY II
HUNTED!
TERRI PRAY
A Renaissance E Books publication
ISBN 1-58873-903-1
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2006 Terri Pray
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
For information contact:
Renaissance E Books
Email [email protected]
A Sizzler/B&D Edition
CHAPTER ONE
Leather clad fingers brushed against her cheek, tracing a soft line down to her chin before his strong hand cupped her face. “Have hope, my lass.”
Hope, how could she have hope? Her life, her freedom and her virtue had all been stolen from her in the blink of an eye. Yet there he stood, just as he had that day in Ireland, his face hidden behind the scarf yet a world of promise offered in his dark gaze. She could see the outline, just a hint of promise, of his lips beneath the scarf. Lips that she knew could light a passion within her soul at a single touch. “I'm a long way from home, Raven.”
“Look around you, what do you see?”
Her gaze tore away from his face, searching through the mist that clouded her thoughts. Just a dream, she knew that before he had even spoken. Sooner or later she would awaken in the cage Davien locked her in at the end of every night, or whenever it suited him to do so.
Home. Her mind showed her the home she had known, the world that had been her safety before Lord Blood and his random attack. The cage was gone, chains no longer existed, she even felt the simple dress caress over her body, wrapping her in a protection that had been denied for too long now.
The farm, the smell of the cows and the fields, even the distant sound of her sister. It was all here.
“I'm home,” she murmured.
“You always will be, my lass. Just as long as you don't give up. Keep Ireland in your heart, keep your family close, the memory of that single kiss and he will never truly win.” His thumb brushed over her lips, silencing her protests. “As long as you remember that then you will always be my moon touched lass. He's just an Englishman, not worthy of you.”
His dark eyes, the lilt behind his words, the hint of firm lips behind the dark kerchief. She had felt them once, dreamed about his touch time and again, each time she slipped into the welcome embrace of these images her mind added a little more to the fantasy world where she now sought sanctuary.
The kiss, her lips tingled at the memory of his brief touch. Such a small thing, the way he had held her, teased his tongue into her mouth, claiming her in a moment of passion that even now brought a heat to life between her thighs. She craved the tender, yet firm passion of that encounter. A man, a real man so unlike the one that now held her captive. For him, for this Raven, she would have gladly sacrificed her virginity. Yet, she no longer held such a jewel of a gift to offer him. Both her freedom and her maidenhead both stolen by the English Lord who had snatched her from the road.
Even his words felt right. So many of the men and women she had grown up with thought that about their neighbors and unwanted lords. Yet how many also signed up to serve in the English army? That part had never made sense to her.
“My moon touched lass.” He leaned close, the cloth of his kerchief brushed against her lips.
Had he called her that, in the brief moment of their meeting?
No, nor had he proclaimed her to be his lass.
This was nothing more than the dream of a beaten woman, an escape from the nightmare that her life had become.
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“Slave.” His voice broke through her dreams, forcing her mind back towards reality. “Wake up, it's time to greet the day.”
Just a little longer. The temptation to give her silent plea true voice grew and died within a heartbeat. No, if she had learned nothing else in the past few weeks it was Davien's lack of tolerance for disobedience. He gave the word, she moved, unless she wanted to taste the cane against the soles of her feet and be reduced, once more, to full animal status.
Not something she enjoyed, and avoiding it was for the best in both the long and short term. Even if he relished seeing her reduced to that state whenever possible.
“Yes Master.” She whispered even before she forced her eyes to open. Daylight speared a sharp path through the curtains, points of light on the cold stone floor. Chilled, even with the fire that crackled in the stone hearth, she shivered. No clothing, he still kept her naked and open to his view.
Would it have been so wrong to grant her a little something to wear, or a blanket in to cover her shivering form during the night?
Not that he would have thought she needed it with the fire blazing away in the hearth. It offered some shelter from the chill, but no where near the amount she would have liked. Her nipples had crinkled into hardened points, small goose bumps tightened her breasts and stomach as a soft shiver rippled through her body.
Bastard. Men like him needed to be killed, slowly. Handed over to a few of the locals and left to their devices. Slowly she moved to her knees on the rug at the side of his bed. A bed she had dreamed of sleeping in, even if it meant chained, but he had made it all too clear that animals, slaves like her, were never allowed to spend a night in his bed.
With a practiced ease Celeste settled back on her heels, parting her thighs as she tried to ignore the feeling of shame that grew instantly from the pit of her stomach. It didn't work. Flame danced over her skin, turning her a soft pink under his gaze. Her jaw clenched. She had to keep silent unless spoken directly to. The luxury of conversation denied her in the same way that the bed had been.
A single oil lamp had been lit at the side of his bed, and the fire burned low in the fireplace. Many of the rooms had fireplaces, a needed addition in the cold winters that could grip the land. Coal and wood had been placed within easy reach of the hearth. The wood in neat stack away from the flames and the coal in a brass bucket with an ornate lid, most learned quickly not to leave uncovered sources of fuel near a fire place. Not without a covering that would prevent a spark from starting an uncontrolled blaze. More than one home had been lost to a careless owner that way.
“You don't like this, I'm well aware of that, but then again your likes and dislikes don't actually matter in the grand scheme of things.” His lips turned upwards into a cold, heartless smile. Davien had learned all too well how to read her body language since he had snatched her from the side of the road that cool afternoon. “However much you dislike it, still you obey me. Why do you think that is?”
“Because I do not wish to be punished, Master,” Celeste answered quickly. No, she did not want to be punished by him again. Davien had a way of seeking into her heart and finding the right words, the actions that would send a cold hand to grasp about her stomach turning it into a piece of lead. Mental and physical combined where the tools he liked to use and she hated him for it.
“And is that the only reason?” He took a step closer to her, his gaze fixed on her kneeling form. “Think on this before you answer me, slave.”
“Yes, Master.” For the first time in her life she knew hate, in its truest form. No man, living or dead, before him had inspired Celeste to dream of interesting ways to see his demise, yet he only had to walk int
o the room to do that. Yet at the same time something else happened. A heat built between her thighs, a low tingle brushed over her naked flesh, teasing coral tips into crinkled beads on her firm breasts.
Confusion might as well have been his name for what he caused her to feel.
For a moment he didn't speak, but watched her intently as her skin crawled beneath his gaze. “In time that will change my pet. You will eventually seek to obey me not just to avoid being punished but to please me. I've seen the way you look at the clothing the servants wear, the longing stares at my bed, these are but some of the luxuries you crave. The only way to get them is through devoted service, yet you fight against that knowledge even now.”
Her hands tightened into fists on her thighs, until she forced them flat. Devoted service. What nonsense. Did he really believe she was that weak? She wanted nothing to do with him, except to find a way to break free. He would lose track of her at some point, then she could break free, find a way to escape his touch.
Davien leaned closer, brushing his fingers over her cheek in the same way the Raven had done in her dream. “It will come in time my pet, my little slut. You can fight it all you want, scream deep in your mind, form plans to defy me, perhaps even to escape, but in the end you will crawl willingly to my feet, seeking a way, any way to gain some measure of approval from me.”
Bastard. Lying, cheating, no good son of a bitch. How dare he say such things to her?
“You'd like to tell me that I'm wrong, or better yet, to go to hell, wouldn't you?” His fingers tightened on her chin as he forced her to look up at him. Strange, he dressed the part of a gentleman, the right cut of cloth, good linen shirts, but lacked the frills she had associated with courtiers from the few newspaper articles she had read. A man like Davien Blood could easily be mistaken for a handsome soul, his body well built beneath the linen shirts, but he lacked any form of softness. Every move he made was calculated, and aimed at providing himself with pleasure with little or no care for anyone else around him.
Did he play a role in the King's Court? She could almost see him there, working his way through the crowds of well to do Lords and Ladies, seeking out those weak enough to bend to his whims. Yes, that fit him well. She could imagine how he would walk, stalking, no, hunting through the packs of well dressed animals that ravaged her home at every given chance, finding the stray ones, the weakest and preying on them.
Or the ones that offered him a challenge. Like she did.
“Yes, Master, but there would be no point. You know what I feel about this, how I loathe you, putting my feelings into words would, at best, result in a new reason for you to punish me.” Celeste shifted a little on her knees. She could still feel the welts from three days earlier when she had made the mistake of speaking out of turn. Oh he was careful enough not to break the skin, not to mar her skin with scars. Instead he preferred marking her with welts that would rise on her pale flesh and leave her in pain for several days after the beating.
Yet they still burned and pulled with each slight move she made.
“Smart slave, almost too smart at times but I will teach you to use that intelligence in serving my needs.” His fingers tightened further on her chin, threatening to leave small bruises behind. “I've seen the way you miss very little, that calculating look in your gaze. Oh, I know sooner or later you will try to run for it, perhaps sooner than even I expect. You'll seek a way to break free of my hold over you. Run for freedom, look for that one soul who might be daring enough to help you for little more than a touch of your soft lips. You wear the face of an angel, but I and I alone know the true wanton desires that even now start to find their voices within your trembling soul.”
Celeste shivered under the cold caress of his ice-touched gaze. He knew far too much about the human body, where to strike, how to bring cries of pain into life and she was at his mercy. At least for now. He was right, the moment she found his weakness, a way to break free then she would take the chance and run. No matter the risk. She had to if she planned on remaining true to the memory of her Raven.
Foolish woman, all he did was give you a single brief kiss. Not like he promised you a life with him, or a place at his side as his wife. Get over it girl.
The hope, however slim, remained one that she could cling to. How many other lasses from her home area dreamed of the Raven? No one knew much about him, save that he was a brave Irish lad that stole mainly from the English and those who served them. He always eluded the troops, no one knew how but the rumors abounded.
Perhaps he had some English lord's wife as his lover and used her for information. Her stomach clenched at the idea that another would be in his arms.
Snap out of it. Now!
Celeste barely managed to push the thoughts of the Raven from her mind in time to hear Davien speak again.
“We have guests arriving later this day, and a hunt over the weekend. A new set of rules for you to learn during the hunt.” His piercing gaze moved over her nude form.
Hunt? He had mentioned a hunt before, not long after he had captured her. Hadn't he? She wracked her brain, trying to recall the circumstances. A threat? Not to her though. The woman who served here. Alex. The pale faced woman who still filled some of Davien's needs. There had been a threat to turn her out for a hunt.
What would be the prey? Or rather who?
“You wish to know what a hunt is?”
“Yes Master.” She nodded quickly. The grip on her face hurt and she fought the urge to pull back from his hold.
“Then you will remain disappointed at least for now little pet. There are other matters to attend to first before you learn the rules of the hunt.” He finally loosed his hold on her chin. “Now, you will crawl to the door. I wish you on your hands and knees for the day.”
She barely bit back the growl that threatened to take control of her lips as she lowered down onto her hands and knees. Crawling. If there was one thing that was guaranteed to anger her it was that damned order to crawl.
Demeaning.
Degrading.
Humiliating.
Which is exactly why he did it.
Silently she moved fully to her hands and knees, fighting the urge to shoot him a harsh look. Soft strands of white blonde hair slipped over her face, brushing silken fingers over her shoulders, teasing the sides of her breasts as she crawled towards the door. Her fingers curled into the rugs beneath her hands and knees, nipples crinkled into hardened points of brushed coral, goose bumps rose along her back under his cool gaze. She had no choice but to obey, at least for now.
Davien pushed open the door, nudging her through it with the toe of his boot. “Crawl down to my study, slut. We will eat there this morning.”
Which meant from a bowl at his feet. Bloody sod, he was in a right royal form this morning. Her shoulders tensed, the muscles knotting across her back as she crawled towards the top of the stairs. Over the past few weeks she had become quite adept at crawling up and down the staircase, which at least cut down on the reasons he had to punish her.
Celeste looked down the length of the rug covered stairs. At least he had spent the extra money to have a carpet tacked to the center run of the stair case, that provided a little extra grip for her as she lowered her hands down onto the second step. As long as she took it slow and easy she should be able to crawl down without any true incident.
“Don't dawdle, I have a meal waiting and do not intend to eat it cold, slut.” He nudged the taut curves of her ass with his leather clad foot.
She could not hurry down those stairs, not and make it to the bottom without stumbling, but now he was putting her into a difficult position. Still, what choice did she have but to try and obey him? Celeste edged down the stairs, trying to keep her balance as she moved more quickly down the steep staircase.
One step, two, okay three, this was going well. If she could just keep up this pace and stop her body from tumbling down to the wooden floor below then everything would be alright. Six... seven... h
alfway there or so it seemed.
“If that meal is cold then you will feel the crop on your inner thighs.” He growled.
Damn him. Every time she found a way to cope with the orders he threw at her, he took it a step further, forcing her to try that little harder, to push further than she had been prepared to do.
The crop on her inner thighs? Shit. That would hurt. She had not felt the crop there fully yet. Just a few smacks here and there, but the thought of it being done as a punishment went beyond everything she had been put through so far. He might go further and strike down on her exposed mound. No. She could not let that happen.
Shaking she moved down the stairs and tried to keep her balance as she hurried towards the hall. It would take her much to trip or stumble, which he would enjoy if she guessed his mood correctly.
Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she lost her balance for a brief moment on the stairs. Celeste struggled to keep from sliding down the full length of the stairs, one nail breaking under the pressure, half forced into a quick crawl downwards in order to have any chance at keeping her balance.
With a long slow sigh of relief she felt the floor beneath her hands and knees. She'd made it in one piece.
“Don't just linger in the hallway all day, I told you what would happen if my breakfast is cold.” He growled, stalking ahead of her through the hall. Had he been hoping she would fail? Knowing Davien and his desire to cause her pain that would have been exactly what he had hoped for.
Her teeth ground in sheer frustration as she scrambled after him on her hands and knees. Before the day was over, he would find a way to trip her up, gain a reason to punish her, to make her scream in pain.