Dungeon Daddy

by Jane Henry

  There. He was nicely secured now, and I could watch for changes in breathing and alertness easily. It was a boring wait, so I grabbed my copy of Jane Eyre that had fallen to the ground when I grabbed the pillow, and flipped it open to the bookmarked page. I had just gotten to the part in the story when Jane arrives at Mr. Rochester's home. I was so immersed in my story, I didn't hear him stirring until I heard a gruff, "What the hell?"

  I dropped the book. “Oh, hi,” I said, crawling over to see him. "You really startled me. Are you okay?"

  He blinked, his eyes squeezing tight in pain, and he tried to move a hand to his head but they were still held together by the belt.

  "Am I okay?” I swallowed hard. His voice was low, deep, and a little husky, and his sharp tone did strange, wonderful things to my body. I drew closer.

  “I have no idea. What happened? Why am I on the floor? And why the fuck are my wrists tied like I'm some sort of criminal?"

  "You are a criminal."

  He frowned, his brows drawing together angrily. "What? No, I tried to rescue you!"

  "Rescue me! From what? I was reading by moonlight in the most comfortable seat in the house and the next thing I know you're scaling the side of my home like a—a—ninja!"

  He groaned and his head fell back. "Like a ninja. Jesus. I heard you scream and I was afraid someone had hurt you."

  I felt a teensy bit bad at that point. That was sort of sweet of him. "Oh. I tripped and it startled me and I fell."

  "Oh? What the hell did you hit me with, anyway? And why am I still on this fucking floor?"

  "You really should watch your language."

  "I'm on the fucking floor and you're holding me hostage like Misery or something."

  “Misery?”

  He shook his head, but the movement caused him to wince in pain. "Forget it. Listen... what's your name?"

  "Rae. Well my full name is Rowena, but only my father calls me that.” I couldn’t bear to be called Rowena.

  The words left my mouth before my father's admonition came to mind.

  Never tell a stranger your name.

  He'd ingrained it in my head from my youth, but I'd been secluded now for so long that I hadn't remembered to heed his warning. My cheeks flushed and I wished I could take it back.

  "Rae?"

  "Yes," I whispered.

  My father would lose his mind. He’d lock me in my room and call his guard to come, the men who carried guns and dragged full grown men into my father’s office.

  I chose to remain ignorant of what they did in there.

  “And your name?”

  He grunted. “Ryder. Nice to meet you, Rae. Now unfasten my hands. This is getting really fucking uncomfortable."

  "Language."

  "My goddamned hands!"

  I shook my head. "How do I know what you said is true? You trespassed on my property and I defended myself." I paused, and tried to look stern enough to cover my bluff. "Do you want me to call the police?" I wouldn't, but I wondered if the threat would help any.

  He frowned at me. "You do have a tendency for the dramatics, don't you?"

  I shrugged. "Comes from reading a lot, I suppose."

  His lips pursed. “I suppose. So tell me again why you’ve got me bound here? We’ve already established I’m not a burglar, right?”

  I squirmed. “Well. Not really, but okay.”

  “For God’s sake, I just came up to see if you were okay!”

  Now that he was no longer unconscious, I suddenly became very, very aware of the fact that there was a man sitting in front of me, an angry, very attractive man. He was older than I was, by maybe five or six years. He had longish chestnut-colored hair, sky blue eyes, and a short, dark beard, and a body much, much bigger and stronger than mine. His face looked both friendly and stern at the same time

  “I’m fine,” I said absentmindedly, trying to decide what to do. If I let him go, he could hurt me, though he didn’t really seem the type to hurt a woman. After all, he’d come up here to save me, supposedly. If I kept him, and my father found out I’d entertained a visitor—especially a trespasser like this—there would be hell to pay. But he was too big for me to move on my own, and he couldn’t exactly lie on the floor of my bedroom propped up on a pillow for the rest of his life.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll unfasten your hands. But if you do anything funny, I swear to God I’ll hit you with the iron again.”

  He exhaled angrily and narrowed his eyes at me, his deep voice making me shiver. “I’m not going to do anything funny, but if you try to hit me with the iron again I’ll whip it out the window.”

  “That’s supposed to convince me to unfasten the strap?”

  His eyes narrowed to slits, his voice a low command. “Unfasten my wrists.”

  My hands shook as I reached for the belt buckle. I’d never been so close to a man before. My father was the only man I’d ever met, and he only spoke to me from a distance. We never hugged, and he never touched me.

  I wondered what it would be like to be touched by someone.

  “That’s a girl,” he said, as the belt fell away and he flexed his wrists, then he undid the belt at his feet. He was so big, so strong, that my mind immediately began to play tricks on me. What would it feel like if he… if he did overpower me? If he held my wrists in his strong grip, pinned me down, and took control?

  Oh, God. I had to get a grip. I swallowed hard.

  His murmured approval sent a shiver down my spine I didn’t quite understand. I blamed my years of perusing every romance novel I could get my hands on for fostering these romantic notions.

  Yeah, that was it.

  “Christ, my head hurts like fucking hell.”

  He sure had a mouth on him, but I didn’t admonish him this time. I did feel a little badly for the iron incident.

  “I’ll get you some pain relievers.”

  “Are you alone here?” he asked, stumbling a bit as he walked behind me, but he quickly righted himself.

  “Um. No,” I lied, badly. “I have a maid downstairs and a cook who lives here, as well as a butler, a driver, and a groundskeeper.” We’d had all those people over the years but one by one my father let them go and now I was often alone.

  “They all live here?”

  I nodded, not meeting his eyes, as I led him to the bathroom in the hallway. I hated lying, but sometimes it was a necessity. When you lived with someone like my father, you learned this.

  “They do, yes.” My voice sounded unnaturally high. “In fact, um, I’m quite surprised none of them came upstairs to see what the commotion was.”

  He didn’t respond, as I pushed open the door to the bathroom and retrieved the bottle of pain reliever from the medicine cabinet. He grunted his thanks, shook a few into his palm, and swallowed them dry. Yuck.

  “Would you—can you tell me why you’re here?” I asked, leaning against the sink. He owed me at least this explanation.

  He leaned against the wall, wrapping his hand around the side of his head as if to stop the pain. “I was traveling along the main road, and I got a flat tire. Couldn’t see a damn thing, and my spare was flat. I had no cell signal. So I walked until I got here, and knocked and knocked on the door.” He frowned and his voice dropped. “Awfully strange with all that staff no one answered the door.”

  Oh. Oops.

  “They’re all asleep,” I said in a rush.

  He raised a brow. “All of them? Even the ones who guard your estate?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I really just need to get out of here,” he said. “Can I just use your cell phone?”

  “I have no cell phone.” Another lie but with a thread of truth. I had one, but he couldn’t use it. It was only to be used in case of emergency, and my father would track any call I made or received.

  He blinked. “No cell phone?”

  I shook my head.

  “Do you have… a landline?”

  “I… we have one, but it’s in my father’s
office, and I’m not allowed in there unless it’s an emergency.”

  His brows shot up and his mouth dropped open, then after a moment he closed it and stared at me. “Okay. So. What exactly would constitute an emergency?”

  It was a good question. “I suppose if I needed to reach my father.”

  He nodded slowly. “And my car being stranded by the side of the road isn’t an emergency.”

  “No.” Any calls made on my father’s line would be tracked by him, and he’d know I had

  someone over at the house. I didn’t want him to know… yet.

  He frowned. “So what exactly am I supposed to do? No one on your entire staff has a cell phone? No one has any way of reaching civilization?” I watched as he scanned the bathroom, looking over the pile of plush towels, the huge oval mirror over the sink. “A place like this, and you guys don’t have a phone?”

  I shrugged. “Would you like something to eat?”

  3

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ryder

  What kind of bizarre fucking place had I found myself in?

  The chick was lying about the staff. I was pretty sure she was the only one here, at least for now. I felt like I’d wandered onto some sort of sinister B-level horror flick. Just about the only thing that didn’t creep me the hell out was her. She was weird as fuck, but it was a sort of endearing. She was also absolutely stunning.

  I took a moment to really look at her as she led me downstairs. A full head of very, very long honey blonde hair hung past her waist, twisted into a thick braid. She was petite, with a slender waist and full hips that swayed while she walked, and a gorgeous, heart-shaped, very spankable ass. A cute little pair of glasses rimmed in gold perched on her nose, and her lips were lush and full. She wore a pair of faded jeans that flared at the bottom and a faded dark purple tank top, her feet bare, her entire presence reminiscent of some sort of hippie. And yet, it was cute.

  “So who’s your father?” I asked.

  She didn’t respond at first. Her voice was lower than I’d expected, a bit husky when she spoke, edgy even. I had a feeling when push came to shove, the girl could hold her own. “I’m not really supposed to talk about him.”

  Creepy.

  “Alright, then,” I said, annoyed at her evasiveness and how powerless I was in this situation. “You seem sort of alone here.” She froze on a landing between the first and second floors and swung her gaze to meet mine, her full lips parted a bit. “I don’t talk to anyone. He says the outside world is a terrifying place to be, filled with strangers who will hurt me.” Her brow furrowed. “Will you hurt me?”

  “We’ve covered this,” I said, annoyed now. “No. I won’t hurt you. He tells you lots of people would hurt you?”

  She blinked. “Most.”

  Most? Christ.

  “This way,” she said, her voice hushed as we padded down the carpeted stairs. I followed. I’d find the phone.

  I surmised she was some sort of homebound chick. On a whim, I decided I’d probe. “Are you here against your will?” I asked her. I had to. I couldn’t leave things well enough alone. I needed to know.

  She paused and tipped her head to the side. “You mean… like a prisoner?”

  I nodded. I expected her to deny it, so her response took me off guard.

  “Well, I’m not allowed to leave.”

  What?

  “Do you want to?”

  Her eyes quickly glanced away and her head dipped down. “Sometimes, I do. Most days, yes. But I can’t, Ryder. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  I closed my eyes briefly. “Tell me what you mean.”

  “How’s your head?” she asked, evading.

  Seemed I wouldn’t get very far questioning her. “Still hurts like hell.”

  She didn’t respond, just pushed open a large door to the dining room, which housed a long table with chairs flanking either side.

  Part of me wondered how the fuck I’d get out of here.

  But another part of me didn’t feel right leaving this girl behind, knowing she was being kept against her will. My years of training as a dominant made me want to protect her, keep her safe. But I’d have to observe carefully. She was like a wounded animal, and I wondered how she’d react if she felt cornered.

  She fiddled around in the kitchen, pulling out mugs and heating up a saucepan with cocoa, milk, and sugar, whisking away. “What do you do for work, Ryder?” she asked, as steam rose from the pan. I’d never had cocoa made with anything other than powder from a packet.

  “I own a club.”

  “Oh. Marshmallows?”

  “No thanks.”

  She sat across from me, her long braid swinging in front, as she sipped her cocoa.

  "What’s your father going to do when he finds out I was here?” I asked. I knew the answer. I hoped the reminder of this fact would get her to find me a way to contact someone who could help me.

  She looked away and didn't respond at first. Finally, she placed her mug on the table and slid it away from her, then she ran her tongue over her top lip, cleaning the little hot chocolate moustache she'd managed to give herself. I swallowed hard, my cock twitching as I watched her. God, what I would do with that pert little mouth of hers.

  “I…we need to make sure he doesn’t find out.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “I know you can’t use his phone,” she said. “And you have to be gone when he comes home.”

  “What will he do if he finds out?” I repeated. She was naïve to think he didn’t have this place tricked out with surveillance cameras.

  Her eyes widened. “He can’t find out, Ryder. I – I don’t know what he’d do. He’s never touched me. But the people he’s brought into his office…” She swallowed. “They scream,” she whispered. “They make terrible, horrific noises.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve never seen any of them leave.” She drew in a breath and opened her eyes. “He doesn’t know I’ve seen any of this, and I choose to remain ignorant.”

  A cold chill crept up my neck, the hair on my arms standing on end.

  "Don't get the wrong idea, Ryder. He's... he loves me, he just wants what's best for me."

  Bullshit.

  Still, I nodded. What kind of sick fuck was this guy? Was she saying this because she had some sort of twisted Stockholm syndrome?

  She looked away and cleared her throat. "How's your cocoa?"

  "Great, thanks." I finished it in one final gulp and slid the mug over to her. She took it silently, stood, and padded softly to the kitchen. I heard her open the dishwasher, and place the mugs in before she clicked it shut and came back out to me.

  "Where's the rest of the staff?" I asked her. I needed her to tell me the truth. I needed to know what the fuck was going on.

  She looked away. "You'll see them in the morning, I guess. Maybe… I will show you to your room. My father won’t be back for a few days, and you can find your way home in the morning.”

  My room?

  "Yes, that'd be great."

  I'd wait until she fell asleep, and when she did, I'd find out where the fuck I was. I'd get onto a computer or phone that would get me in touch with Seth, and I'd get the fuck out of here.

  She led me back upstairs to where her room was, and opened the door next to it, a small room with a few bookshelves and a single bed, simply furnished. “What’s this room?” I asked.

  “This is just the guest room, not that we have any guests. Make yourself at home.” She frowned. “I’ve never really dealt with a guest before.”

  “You’re doing great.”

  Her eyes lit up then, full of life and hope. “You think?”

  “Oh, can you come here for a minute?” she asked, and then before I knew what she was doing she was right up in my space, standing in front of me, her large brown eyes looking into mine, her finger on my chin. My pulse spiked. I inhaled deeply, my cock hardening. Fuck. She was too damn close and s
melled so good it killed me.

  “Rae… what are you doing?” I asked her, completely taken aback.

  “Checking your eyes,” she muttered. “Need to make sure it’s okay for you to go to sleep. Need to look at your pupils”

  “Right.”

  “Stay still.”

  Her breath stirred across my neck. I covered up my shiver of arousal with sarcasm. “Hardly doing a jig here.”

  She snorted and lost her balance, falling straight into me. I caught her, her soft body pushed up against mine, and after I gently righted her, I stepped back.

  It was dangerous here. I couldn’t get close to her. Fuck, I wanted to, though. It’d been a whole year since I’d had a full-time submissive, and maybe six months since I’d taken a woman to bed. I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering as the faint scent of lilacs and freesia enveloped me.

  “So what’s the prognosis, Doctor Rae?”

  She snorted again, and I braced myself as if to catch her, which only made her laugh harder, a musical, contagious laugh that made my lips curl in amusement.

  “I think you’re fine, patient Ryder. But we have to be sure—”

  A loud crash made us both freeze in place, a bang followed by a thump.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “He isn’t supposed to be home yet. He’s supposed to be in Ontario.” Her hand splayed across her chest as she took in a shuddering breath. God, the girl was scared shitless.

  “We don’t know it’s him,” I said, my jaw set as I watched her reaction. I didn’t care who the fuck this guy was. He wouldn’t hurt her on my watch. “Let’s go find out.” I started to walk toward the doorway, but she yanked me back so hard I almost fell.

  “No!” she said, her eyes so wide and panicked now I felt my own stomach clench in fear. My hands fisted, ready to protect her from whatever dangers threatened to hurt her.

  “Relax, Rae, it’s going to be okay. We can’t exactly skulk around here when someone could have—”

  “No. Please!” Her gaze flitted away from mine, taking in the room. “God, oh God. Where can I hide you?”

  “Hide me? I don’t think so.” I huffed out a humorless laugh. I was ready to defend her, no matter who or what posed a threat.