The Romantic Dominant

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The Romantic Dominant Page 15

by Maggie Carpenter


  “Of course,” he agreed, kissing her on the forehead and releasing her.

  She slipped from his arms and he ambled into his room, stripping off and stepping into the shower. As resilient as Gabriela was, she was still recovering from her ordeal and needed early nights and long periods of restful sleep.

  Standing under the hot stream of water, mentally running through his plan, he said a silent prayer, asking that luck would be on his side. Through his escalating career he’d learned that the best laid plans still required a certain amount of fortuitous bounces, like the fumbled football in the closing seconds of the game.

  Toweling off and walking from the bathroom, he found Gabriela already in bed waiting for him, her eyes closed, her breathing deep and even. Though the ebony sky told him night had fallen, it was relatively early and he wasn’t tired, but he turned off the lights and started a low fire, crawling gently between the sheets. She moved to nestle against him, her naked body immediately inspiring his cock to make itself known.

  “Zander,” she mumbled, “I am so tired.”

  “I know,” he murmured, “you need to sleep.”

  Barely had he spoken the words when he felt her drift away, and staring out at the night he thanked the heavens for her safe return, and hoped the same would soon be true for Abigail.

  The comfort of her soft presence allowed him to doze, and in the early hours of the morning, when her fingers slipped around his hand, and her breasts rubbed urgently against him, and her lips found his, and her quiet but eager voice whispered her need, he rolled her on to her side, sliding his quickly growing member into the warm inviting folds of her welcoming pussy,

  He laid buried for a while, nuzzling her neck, his fingers searching out her pulsing clit, rubbing and circling. She moaned softly before moving against him, thrusting back, asking for more. He rode her slowly, all the while massaging her magic button, bringing them to their mutual moment without pause, until they shuddered together, the tingling euphoria washing over them, leaving them spent and fulfilled.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Connor woke early, and while working out on his exercise machine he replayed the tape of Slut Abby from the previous evening. She’d been bound and spread, and after applying copious dollops of whipped cream across her marvelous mounds he’d hungrily slurped it up, then stretched alongside her and sucked on her nipples for a gloriously long time.

  While it was a satisfying replay, he wanted to start his day watching the recording of Slut Abby’s first night panic. There was little he found more empowering than the sight of a desperate, hysterical female. Searching out the scene he soaked up her piteous pleas, and when she began banging on the bedroom door begging to be released, he felt the power surge through his body.

  “Just what I needed,” he laughed.

  His exercise over, he froze the picture, relishing a particularly wretched look on her face, and was about to turn off the machine when it occurred to him that he should delete the recordings.

  Fuck it. I’ll burn the discs tonight and then delete it. What a fucking pain.

  Brushing off the irritation he dressed in his best Hugo Boss suit and walked the short distance down the hall to unlock Slut Abby’s door. He’d set her alarm clock and left instructions that she should be showered, dressed in the maid’s outfit, and waiting for him by 8:30 a.m. As he’d decree, she was ready and waiting, perched on the edge of her bed.

  “Time to make my breakfast, and then I’ll be taking you on a small, educational tour before you start your duties.”

  Stay calm, do as he says. Play the game.

  “Yes, Master,” she replied quietly, and rose to her feet, following him out of the room and down the stairs.

  “Two poached eggs on toast,” he ordered as they entered the kitchen, “and coffee with a splash of half and half, and two packets of sugar. Use the black mug by the coffee maker.”

  Without a word she set about preparing his meal, and after watching her for a moment or two he left to collect the morning paper from the doorstep. By the time he returned she had set his place and was busy buttering the toast and watching the eggs to make sure they didn’t overcook. As she served him the coffee, he looked up at her and frowned.

  “Remember, you stay next to me as I eat.”

  “Yes, Master,” she replied, dropping her eyes.

  “The eggs should be done. Fetch them, I have a very important meeting this morning and I can’t be late.”

  She scurried away, fearful of his displeasure, and carefully placed the eggs on the plate with the toast. After setting the meal in front of him she remained by his side, silent and still.

  I have to find a way out of here. Once he leaves I’ll break a window and climb out, run to the neighbors, I’ll do whatever I have to. Zander, why didn’t I tell you exactly where I was going and when I’d check back in? Dear God, if you get me out of here, I promise I’ll never be so foolish again.

  “Follow me,” he quipped, chewing his last mouthful of food and downing the last of his coffee as he rose from the table.

  Marching out into the hallway he lifted his arm, pointing to a corner.

  “See that?” he asked gruffly.

  Abigail squinted, staring up at the dark recess.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “Exactly. In that corner is a hidden camera.”

  Before she had a chance to respond he abruptly grabbed her elbow and walked her briskly into the living room, pointing at one of the exposed beams high above their heads.

  “There’s another in that beam,” he exclaimed.

  “I don’t understand,” she stammered.

  “I will be monitoring your every move. I have a special laptop that goes with me everywhere, and I can switch from room to room whenever I want, and believe me, I will be watching you ALL the time,” he exclaimed. “I’m only five minutes away, so if you try anything smart, anything at all, I will be back here in minutes and your ass will feel my belt. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Yes, Master,” she whimpered.

  “I have spent a great deal of time and money making this house escape-proof,” he lied, “so sluts like you can’t get out of here unless I want them to.”

  “You don’t care about me at all, do you?” she whispered, the truth of her situation coming fully to life.

  “Ha! I only care about what you do for me, and girl, you make my juices run,” he snarled, euphoria flooding his veins as he saw her agonized realization, “and if you don’t do exactly what I say, there are many ways I can make you sorry.”

  As much as she tried to swallow the hot lump in her throat, it gave way, and the tears spilled from her eyes.

  There it is. The delicious despair, the misery, the fear. Oh, this is going to be a wonderful day.

  “I see you finally understand your situation,” he growled, puffing out his chest. “Now then, your chores for today. In the tall kitchen cupboard are all the supplies you will need to clean the wood floors. If they are not so shiny I can see my face in them you will clean them again and again, and then again until they are,” he warned. “Am I being clear?”

  “Yes,” she sobbed.

  “One last thing,” he said, lowering his voice menacingly and leaning into her, “if you don’t want your friend Jennifer to end up the victim of a nasty mugging, you’d best resign yourself to your fate. Even if you could find a way out of here, the detectives on the city police force are close friends of mine. They’ll bring you right back!”

  “You can’t do this,” she sobbed.

  He reached out, cruelly clutching her hair.

  “Yes, I can,” he snarled, then abruptly released her. “You behave, I’ll be nice, you be a disobedient bitch, and I’ll be nasty, very nasty,” he grunted.

  Standing back he studied her reaction, inhaling her glorious anguish. It had been much too long since he’d had a satisfying slut-slave under his roof, and for that he blamed the Brazilian Bitch.

  “T
here’s a frozen curried chicken breast in the freezer. I want that with some rice for dinner.”

  “Yes, Master,” she nodded, staring at the floor, but I will find a way to get out of her. I’ll never stop trying, never

  “I’ll see you later, and don’t forget, smile for the camera,” he quipped, and marched away, leaving her bereft and bewildered in the middle of the living room.

  Parked just down the block from Connor’s home was a black BMW SUV, and seated behind the wheel was Nick Cordova. A nervous Gabriela Costa was in the passenger seat staring into the side mirror, and when the gleaming black Porsche pulled out of the driveway, she ducked down as it sped past them. Nick smiled across at his passenger.

  “He’s turned the corner, you can sit up. How are you feeling?”

  “Weird,” she replied straightening up, “and nervous. I just want it to be over. I can’t wait to get the girl out. I wish we could go in right now.”

  “That would be a big mistake. We have to know he’s well on his way to the building site,” Nick declared. “He could just as easily turn around and come back. I’ve seen it happen.”

  “You’re right,” she sighed, reaching for her phone. “I’ll call Zander and let him know Connor just left.”

  Outside Connor’s headquarters, Zander was drinking a cup of takeaway Java and reading the newspaper. He thought he was calm until the ringing of his phone made him jump, causing him to spill his coffee.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed, but staring down he was relieved to see the newspaper had caught most of it, and placing the cardboard cup in the car’s holder he grabbed his phone.

  “I was getting worried,” Gabriela declared. “What took you so long to answer?”

  “Sorry, I spilled my coffee.”

  “Ooops. You okay?”

  “Fine. What’s going on?”

  “He just left his house.”

  “It’s too early for him to be headed to the site so he must be coming here first.”

  “This waiting is so nerve-racking,” she complained. “I can hardly stand it.”

  “I’m sure Nick has many stories he could share with you to help kill the time. Ask him about his stakeout at the brothel on the outskirts of town,” Zander chuckled, hoping some levity would ease her nerves.

  “I might do that,” Gabriela smiled. “Sounds interesting.”

  “Oh, it is,” Zander replied. “I’ll call you back when he leaves here.”

  “Okay,” she sighed, ending the call.

  “Time for me to call my buddy,” Nick remarked. “He’s going to be as shocked as I was. Mind you, I never liked Connor. He was too smooth, something about him didn’t ring true.”

  “This buddy, you can trust him? For sure you can trust him?”

  “Yes, for sure. Don’t worry. Okay, here we go,” he announced, and reaching for his cell phone, dialed the police station.

  As Nick asked to speak to his friend, Detective Steve Cobin, Gabriela stared out her window at the innocent looking house, knowing that inside was a terrified, abused young woman who thought there was no way out.

  “Steve, hey, it’s Nick.”

  The words interrupted her thoughts, and she turned her attention to the all-important phone call.

  “Nick, what’s happening? How’s the Chief Of Security for Zander Davis?” Steve asked.

  “Great, listen, do me a favor. Take a walk and call me back. I’ve got a hell of a story for you, and a case that will blow your mind and make you a hero.”

  “Two minutes,” the detective replied.

  Nick closed his phone and peered at the house, just as Gabriela had done moments before.

  “Is he going to call you back?”

  “Of course,” Nick smiled. “Don’t worry, this will all go just as Zander planned it.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” she sighed.

  Nick’s phone jangled, and as he answered the call he gave Gabriela a reassuring wink.

  “Hey Steve, I’m going to put you on speaker. There’s a woman here who will need to contribute to the conversation, and you’ll probably want to ask her some questions as well. Steve, meet Gabriela.

  “Hi, Gabriela. You’ve both got my attention. What’s this all about?”

  “What if I were to tell you that Connor Matthews held a woman against her will for several months, she managed to escape, and now he’s taken another?”

  “I would say keep talking, and I assume, Gabriela, you are the woman who got away?”

  “Yes, detective I am, but this is the second time. The first time I went straight to you guys and-”

  “You can stop right there. I remember this. It was all over the station for about a week. A woman in a blond wig burst in the station claiming Connor Matthews had abducted her. Apparently she was Connor’s cousin, a schizophrenic. Was that you?”

  “Yes, that was me, and I can assure you I’m neither schizophrenic, or his cousin.”

  “Tell me everything,” he said urgently.

  It was fifteen minutes later that the call ended, and Detective Steve Cobin was on his way to join them.

  “My heart is beating so fast,” Gabriela breathed.

  Revisiting much of the hell she’d endured had left her shaken. The thought that she was about to enter the house in which it had all transpired did nothing to calm her nerves, but when her phone rang it shifted her focus and gratefully she answered.

  “Hi, Zander, I’ll put you on speaker.”

  “Connor just left with some blueprints,” he declared. “I’m sure he’s on his way to the site. You can go in the house any time.”

  “My buddy’s on his way now,”

  “Fantastic,” Zander exclaimed. “Keep me posted.”

  They ended the call, and Gabriela reached for Nick’s hand.

  “You were so adorable that night at Willows,” she said softly. “I know we need to get moving, but you are so sweet, I have to ask, why are you a playboy?”

  “I was never a playboy, I just can’t seem to meet the right woman.”

  “It’s that difficult? I’m surprised. You’re attractive, successful…”

  “The women I meet spend a great deal of time trying to prove how independent they are,” he explained. “That doesn’t work for me. I want a woman who wants to lean on me. I guess I’m just old-fashioned.”

  “I read something once,” she replied thoughtfully, “that men need to be needed, and women want to be wanted.”

  He stared at her, nodding his head.

  “That’s profound, and for me it’s exactly true. I need to be needed. I’ve never thought about it like that.”

  . Gabriel stared at him, then pointed towards the Tudor house.

  “The young woman in there needs you right now, desperately.”

  “Are you ready to go in?”

  “Yes,” Gabriela replied, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready, and I know where he keeps the extra remote for the garage,” she replied. “We won’t have to bang on the front door.”

  As they stepped from the car Nick wrapped his hand around hers, and together they walked quickly down the block and across the street. Approaching the house Gabriela moved down the driveway, and as they entered the motor court she headed to a large rock sitting against the fence.

  “Need help?” he asked.

  “It’s plastic,” she explained, pushing it back.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” he remarked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I saw it out of my window one day, just pure luck,” she explained, pulling out the garage door opener. Pressing the button, they watched the door roll up.

  “Hmmm, this is interesting,” he declared, moving to the side of the garage.

  “What?”

  “This,” he said, pointing to the gap behind the white peg board.

  “I didn’t even notice,” Gabriela declared.

  “Detective’s eye,” he remarked.

  “Can we get to Abigail before we explore out here?” she asked.

&
nbsp; “Sure,” he nodded. “Just making a mental note.”

  Gabriela hurried to the back door, Nick close behind, and as she expected it was unlocked. Pushing it open she poked her head in.

  “Abigail? Abigail are you here? I’ve come to help you.”

  Abigail was in the main hall trying to clean the hardwood floors with a contraption she simply couldn’t figure out, and when she heard the female voice, she froze.

  Impossible. A woman? Here to help me? It’s a trap, it must be, he’s testing me.

  “I’m a friend of Zander’s” the voice declared.

  Zander?

  Dropping the hi-tech mop she let out a cry and ran from the hallway, almost tripping over her own feet. Bursting into the kitchen she saw a beautiful, thin, dark-haired woman with intense green eyes.

  “Abigail!” Gabriela exclaimed, a catch in her voice. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

  Abigail burst into tears and ran across the kitchen, hugging her tightly, sobbing piteously.

  “You’re safe now,” Gabriela repeated, shocked at the terrified state of the girl in her arms.

  Abigail heard a second set of footsteps, and looked up to see a very attractive man stepping in from the garage.

  “I’m here to make sure of it,” Nick said warmly, and found himself taking a second look at the young woman; she was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “I don’t know who you people are, but thank God you came,” she sobbed.

  “My name is Gabriela and Connor held me here for months,” Gabriela said gravely. “This is Nick, a former detective, and he works for Zander.”

  “Thank God you came,” Abigail repeated.

  “Abigail, I need you to catch your breath for a minute. Can you do that for me?” Nick asked gently.

  “Uh-huh,” she sniffled, choking back tears.

  “In a few minutes there will be a knock at the front door. It will be a detective and he’s a friend of mine. You can trust him.”

  “Are you sure,” Abby asked frantically.

  “Yes, it’s okay,” Gabriela replied firmly, her green eyes staring at Abigail purposefully. “We’re getting you out of here, but we need just a couple of things from you.”

 

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