by Measha Stone
“Okay. I’m not a horrible cook, and I’m good at cleaning.”
“No.” He stood up. “Peter, show her around for me. I have a meeting this morning but will return for lunch.”
“No? I don’t understand. Then why would you want me here?” She rose as well, not liking him towering over her.
“Remember what the answer is to why?” He moved around the table, putting himself so close to her she could smell the musky soap he’d used in his shower.
“Because you want it,” she parroted his earlier statement. “But I want to know why you want it, what is it I’m going to be doing. You can give me at least that, can’t you?” The unknowing put her nerves on edge, and she’d had enough of uncertainty in the last few days.
His touch surprised her when he slid his hand beneath her hair and cupped her neck. He drew her to him, and his lips pressed over hers. Not hard, yet fully demanding. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and, before she could think to push him away, she parted her lips, accepting his presence. He deepened the kiss, pushing his body against hers while holding her against him. The tingles began at her lips but traveled with electric speed down her spine, through her core, and straight to her clit.
He left her breathless when he retreated, flashing her a cocky grin. The hard rod pressed against her told her he’d been at least affected a little by the kiss, if not as much as she had been.
“I want you here so I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, to you and this body.” He fisted his hand in her hair, yanking her head back and exposing her neck. He dragged his tongue up her throat and dropped another kiss to her lips. “Because I own this body. I own you.”
His eyes sparkled. His cocky grin remained while she tried to find words to reject him, to tell him no one owned her. Suddenly, he released her, leaving a chill to settle over the places he’d touched.
She heard him say something to Peter. The door to the dining room closed, and he was gone.
“Ellie.” Peter’s soft voice pulled her out of her stupor. “Let’s go for a stroll.”
# # #
The gardens stole her breath. Everything bloomed, lush and vibrant. Peter let her wander around without invading her thoughts with chatter, and she was grateful for it.
After she had her fill, she made to sit on a bench, but Peter stopped her.
“We have only a short time before you have to meet Ash for lunch.” He waved toward the path leading to the house.
She sighed. Peter had given her a quick tour of the main house, nothing out of the ordinary, before taking her outside.
“I’d like to speak to my father.”
“Not until Ash has given you permission.”
“Permission.” She stiffened. “Do I need permission for anything else?” She’d meant the question as a joke, but his serious expression told her there would be no laughing in her near future.
“Everything you do will need his okay,” he answered and led her into the house.
“Of course.” She noticed a doorway as they entered the mud room. “What’s that? There’s another wing, isn’t there?” She started toward the door, but Peter’s hand on her shoulder stilled her.
“Yes, but you aren’t to ever go there.” He waved her into the main house.
“What’s in there?” She took another step, but he gripped her elbow and kept her from reaching the handle.
“Not for you. Let’s go.” He towed her into the main hallway.
“Why?” she asked, yanking her elbow from Peter’s grip. He wasn’t as demanding as Ash, but she was learning they had similar qualities. Similar signs of dominance, and neither seemed to understand the word no, unless they were the ones using it.
“Ash will probably let you call your father in a few days. Once you’re settled in. If I were you, I’d just relax and obey him.” He arched a dark brow and smiled. “But you haven’t listened to any advice I’ve given you so far.”
“You were kidnapping my father,” she argued as they made their way through a long corridor. “Why would I trust you? You’re nothing but his hired goon.”
He only laughed at her insult. The man didn’t even know when to be offended!
Her entire life, she’d been responsible, in charge of making sure all the ends were neatly tied, but since getting off that bus two days ago, nothing had been neat. All the ends were frayed and misplaced. And trying to grasp control only resulted in being laughed at, or manhandled.
Though she could admit, just to herself, the manhandling hadn’t been too bad.
“I’m a bit more than a hired goon, but I get why you’d be confused. Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it? Just obey him?” She stopped and faced off with him. “I don’t know him other than he was going to kill my father. The man would as easily have me gang raped as he would feed me lunch. He’s a monster. A beast, and you aren’t much better.” After having her say, she marched off toward the staircase. Ash could have lunch alone. She wasn’t going to go along with him. Fuck him. She wasn’t going to act his sweet little captive any longer.
“He’s been kind so far, Ellie. Don’t push him,” Peter called after he as she made her way up the steps.
“Yes, he’s been a fucking gentleman,” she responded over her shoulder. “He will either give me an actual job, or he’ll leave me be. I’m sure he’s got a line of women waiting somewhere to be whatever it is he wants them to be.” She quickened her pace, fearing Peter might climb the steps and drag her back down.
She wouldn’t be able to stop him, or Ash for that matter. They were both so much bigger than her, stronger than her, had so much more power.
The door to her room was locked, so she went to his room, saying a small prayer he wouldn’t be inside when she entered. Empty. She quickly shut and locked the door and made her way to the adjoining one. A reflection from the mirror caught her eye, and she paused.
His room at first glance seemed just like her own. Sharp-edged furnishings gave it a more masculine feel than the room she’d been in, and the darker bedding gave it a more sinister one. As she let her gaze wander over the room, she found what had struck her. Black metal rings were mounted on the wall near the bed. Four—two up high and two toward the baseboards. She hadn’t seen them before. She’d been trying to get out of the room with him marching around naked and all.
The closer nightstand had deeper drawers than its mate on the other side of the bed. Curiosity getting the best of her, she opened the top drawer and sucked in her breath. Paddles, hairbrushes, and several strips of leather bindings filled the drawer. As though simply seeing them would poison her, she shoved the drawer closed and stepped away.
Was that what he had in mind for her? Would he torture her for his own pleasure? Was that what he meant by he’d do whatever he wanted to her body?
She had to get out, had to find a way to get away from him, away from this dark, scary place and keep her father safe at the same time.
Running into her room, she locked the adjoining door. She would find a way, but until then, she wouldn’t go willingly to him, or allow him near her.
She would protect herself against everything he stood for.
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CHAPTER THREE
Silly girl actually thought a lock would keep him out of her room. He had the key; she couldn’t think he didn’t. Why would he allow any room in his house be locked without a way for him—the owner—to get inside?
His morning meeting hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. The buyer wasn’t listening to the rules, was trying to make new stipulations not in the best interests of him or the product. And the product was too precious to be sent off with such a careless buyer. No, he had to release him from further negotiations and would have to start a new search.
It turned Ash’s stomach to let amillion-dollar transaction float out the door, even if it was for the best.
The all-knowing smirk on Peter’s face when he walk
ed into the kitchen while Ash was telling the cook what to make for the evening meal didn’t help ease his already sour mood. Worse, Ash recognized the grin for what it was. The man yearned to scream “I told you so,” but he wouldn’t. Not with Maria, the cook, around, anyway. No. His cousin would wait to gloat until they were alone.
“Komisky’s out. I’ll find someone soon,” Ash announced, deciding to get the gloating over with.”
Maria’s eyes darted between Peter and Ash before she picked up her pad of paper and left them alone in the kitchen. The cockier the smirk, the more Ash understood his cousin hadn’t come in to gloat about the failed meeting.
“What did she do?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d only been gone a few hours. How much trouble could she have caused?
“Nothing.” Peter shrugged. “She asked about the auxiliary building, though.”
Ash raised his brows. “’She would have found it eventually. You didn’t bring her in there.”
“Of course not.” Peter went to the fridge and helped himself to a bottle of water. “It pissed her off though.”
“Is she waiting in the dining room?” Ash glanced toward the adjoining door, wondering if she was sitting primly in her seat.
“Uh. No.” Peter twisted off the cap and took a long sip of water. “She went to her room. Said something about you either giving her an actual job or leaving her alone.” He took another sip, the bottle only half masking his grin.
Ash rubbed his forehead. One minute she conceded, the next she fought him. It was dizzying.
“I guess it’s time to let her know what her actual job here will be, then.”
“You’re keeping her for yourself. That’s new for you.” Peter put the water on the counter, giving him a serious look. Concerned. His cousin always watched out for him. It was why he kept him so close.
“I’m sure I’ll tire of her soon enough.” Once he had her, writhing and crying his name beneath him, he’d be able to push her from his mind. It was how he did things. He wanted them until he had them, and then they weren’t so exciting anymore. The fun of the chase, he supposed. And Ellie would give such a beautiful chase.
“Hmm. Well, she’s already tired of you. I don’t think she plans on joining you, or allowing you to see her. She locked the door to your room, and I’m sure the door joining the two.”
“You checked?”
“Of course, I did.” Peter’s eyes darkened. “She wants to talk with her father. Maybe if you—”
“No.” Ash pushed away from the counter. “She’s not going to get what she wants by demanding, or pouting. If she wants to lock herself away in her room, fine. I’ll have food brought to her, and if she doesn’t eat, I’ll force her myself. Make sure you tell Maria to let her know if her fucking plate isn’t clean when I see it, she’s going to be punished.”
“You want Maria to give that message?” Peter’s eyebrows rose, humor dancing in his tone. “Those exact words?”
He had a point. Maria, although aware of his business dealings and his private preferences, had never been involved. He wouldn’t make her party to it, now.
“You’re right. You do it. And inform her, if she doesn’t join me for her meals, then she won’t be let out of her room. Lock her in.”
“Ash—”
“Do it, Peter.” Ash stalked off. He needed space. He needed to find a new buyer, and he needed to get control of the girl upstairs thinking she could bar him from his own fucking room.
# # #
Remembering the door to her room was locked, Ash went to his nightstand to retrieve the key.
He had left her alone the rest of the day, spending his time working. Rejecting Komisky left him without a buyer, and waiting to find another would only decrease his return on the investment he’d made in the product. Less revenue made his head hurt.
When Maria informed him Ellie wouldn’t be joining him for supper, he hadn’t even batted an eye. He’d just told her to bring a tray up for Ellie.
But it was time to talk with her, to make her understand her place. Peter had said she was an innocent, but Ash could tell the difference between innocent and inexperienced. She was no innocent. Or at least she wouldn’t be by the time the night was over.
The drawer of his nightstand wasn’t closed all the way when he reached it. The top drawer of his toy chest was ajar. A smile tugged at his lips.
She’d been snooping.
He wondered if she had blanched when she saw the things inside the drawer. Or had her cheeks tinted in the pretty pink hue he had enjoyed the first time he’d seen it?
Grabbing the key, he stalked to her door. There’d been enough of her hiding and pretending she had any actual power in his house. Time for her to learn who made the rules and who obeyed them.
She sat on the bed, pushed up against the headboard with a book in her lap. He hadn’t barged in, though the urge had been there, so she didn’t lift her gaze until he said her name.
The book tumbled from her hands, landing on the mattress with the pages displayed. An art book. His mother had been passionate about artwork. A few of her books remained stashed in the bookcases of the adjoining master suite.
“Nosey, nosey,” he said, making his way to the bed and reaching for the book. Baroque. He’d gotten his love of the period from his mother. He slammed the book shut and dropped it on the end of the bed.
“I ate.” She pointed to the empty plates on the small table. Peter had delivered the message. Good.
“What else did you do, Ellie? While I was in my office working, what were you up here doing?”
“Reading.” She thrust her chin upward, tucking her feet under her. She hadn’t put on her nightgown yet, which worked for him, since after tonight she wouldn’t be wearing one anymore.
“Get up.” He grabbed her elbow and dragged her from the bed. She squirmed and pulled, but he maneuvered her into his room with little effort.
“Ash.” She yanked, but still she couldn’t get free.
He released her near the nightstand and pointed to his drawer.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” He raised an eyebrow, and cocked a grin at her. Her unease fueled him. “Maybe you wanted me to know you’d been naughty so you could have your first dose of the paddle in there?” He opened the drawer and fondled the leather paddle, but didn’t pick it up.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“An apology, so easily given? I’m a little disappointed, Ellie.” He pointed to her shirt. “It’s time for the rules. When you are in this room, no clothing.”
“I’ll go back—”
“Rule number two, you don’t tell me what you’re going to do, you ask me what you are allowed to do.” The fire lit up in her expression, and his cock reacted immediately to it.
“May I go to my room?” she asked.
He wondered how much pressure it would take before a tooth actually cracked when clenched together like she was doing.
“Take off your clothes, Ellie. Or I will.” He closed the gap between them. “And if I do it, you won’t like it.” He winked at her. Or, maybe she would. Plenty of time to experiment later.
She huffed but finally followed his directions and pulled off the shirt and shimmied out of the leggings. She’d gone without any underwear, which probably had everything to do with the fact he’d told Peter not to give her any.
“Good.” He swept the clothes up from the floor and went to his closet. After tossing the clothes down the laundry chute, he turned back to her and leaned against the closet doorframe.
“I didn’t mean to go through your things,” she murmured. “I’m sorry if it pissed you off. I won’t touch anything else.”
He remained quiet, taking in the gentle beauty of her natural state. Her hair fell loose over her body, almost long enough to cover her breasts. He’d have to keep it tied back if it grew much longer.
The creamy coloring of her skin ended at her neck. From there it took on a deep crimson. Embarrassed from
being nude or from being found out?
Time to get to know his captive a little better.
He stalked across the floor to her, keeping his eyes focused on hers. She hated it, he could tell, but she wouldn’t back down. No, she had more spunk than that. She may be well mannered, easily embarrassed, but she was no shrinking violet.
“Tell me what you saw in the drawer.” He trailed a finger down her arm when he reached her, delighting in the goose bumps littering her flesh.
She tried to turn away, but he tsked, and she managed to hold his gaze.
“Nothing.”
He shook his head. “Liar, liar.” He swatted her bare ass hard with an open palm. “Ass on fire.”
The surprised yelp she gave him wasn’t enough to appease the need bubbling inside him, but he would take his time.
“What did you see?”
She huffed. A few locks of auburn hair blew toward him with the heavy breath.
“Just stuff. The paddle, a strip of leather. It’s none of my business,” she quickly qualified.
He continued to study her. The quickening of her breath, the subtle dilation of her pupils. Peter was an idiot. This woman may not have experience, but she sure as fuck was no innocent.
“Are you—is that what you want me for, to do those things to me?” She kept her voice from shaking, but barely. Her body trembled, and it wasn’t from any chill in the room.
“Two lessons tonight, I think.” He nodded, decisive. “You’ll learn your first and, if you do well, you’ll learn the second.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you ever had a spanking before, Ellie? Were you ever naughty enough to earn one?” He left her standing beside his bed and picked up the leather paddle. By far the most innocent toy in the room, it would make a great introduction for her future.
“N-no. My father—”
He let out a laugh. “I doubt your father was ever the real parent in your house. No, I mean with your five boyfriends. Maybe one of the three who fucked you? Did any of them get irritated enough with you to reddened this luscious ass of yours?” He grabbed hold of her ass cheek, digging his nails into the generous flesh and inhaling when she gave him the delightful shriek he sought.