by Devon Ashley
Awesome. He’d want to go to bed soon.
I stepped down the two stairs into the living room and turned right. I’d noticed before that he had a bookcase in the far corner. My feet were already leading me there as he returned to the end of the sofa, where a heavy metal reading lamp brightly lit up his book and glasses. He put on his glasses, so thin-rimmed that it didn’t even appear there was one, and opened his book. He stretched out over the length of the sofa in a way that screamed he didn’t consider me a threat. Though he angled his head to read the novel, I could still sense his eyes on me as I scanned his list of titles.
Seeing an entire shelf of popular classics kind of floored me. Captors-slash-killers read Ulysses, War and Peace and 1984? I couldn’t help but grin as I pulled out the first book on the next shelf down. Holding it up, I bit into my smile to keep it from growing too big. “You haven’t read this, surely?”
He lazily gazed over, dipping his head to see over his glasses, to see The Complete Novels of Jane Austen. He didn’t smile as he calmly replied, “No. That’s from your shelf.”
The smile fell off my face as I spun back to the bookcase. I had a shelf? As I scanned the spines, I realized they were all mostly classics too, but more appropriate for me than him. Titles like Anna Karenina, Jane Eyre and Vanity Fair. I turned back to him in shock, the book weighing heavy in my hand. He was watching my stunned reaction.
“Are the titles to your liking?”
Dumbfounded, I barely got out the yeah. I had read a few, but all were novels I had an interest in reading someday. And with the amount of free time I had in this house, I’d probably have this shelf done in a month. Jesus, a month. I took the book with me, but I doubted I was actually going to be able to read it tonight.
My shelf. My part of the closet. What else in this house was mine that I had yet to discover?
I found myself standing next to the fireplace, staring at it. After a moment, it whooshed and fire sparked to life from the gas burning logs. I stumbled slightly back because I wasn’t expecting that, and I when I peeked his way, I saw him placing his phone aside, already picking up his book again.
Was there anything that phone couldn’t do? I half expected Rosie from the Jetson’s to roll out and offer to make me a second dinner for tonight.
The fire burst to flames quickly. My eyes were hypnotized, my skin sensitive to the heat that pushed through the grate. Fire billowed on the ceiling, reaching down, down, down… The putrid air choked my throat, singeing my insides, licking its way down to my lungs. Acid bubbled and churned in my stomach, and heat rose up from the bottom of my throat. My lungs suddenly felt suffocated with heat, my pinkened forearm tingling. I stepped back, the book slipping from my grip. I tripped over the large square coffee table topped with multi-colored stones, my butt landing atop it, my arms reaching out to grip the edge tightly.
The flames withered away to nothing. My breaths were going through my mouth, my heart not sure whether to panic or calm. The fire had been real, but the images in my head were long over. I won’t burn…
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were emotionally sensitive to fire.”
Only my head turned, my body refusing to believe the danger had passed just yet. He was hitched up higher on the sofa, awaiting my reaction. He actually seemed…concerned. This was that moment when I should’ve rushed over and let him comfort me, to prove I was becoming his, that he was the one I needed to hold me. But I was frozen. Because that horror a moment ago was incredibly real to me, not something I was manufacturing to trick him into sympathy.
I wasn’t able to throw myself at him, but I did find the strength to stand and retrieve my book. Then I made my way to him, dropping to the area rug in front of him, lying my head down on the edge of his sofa cushion. Several moments passed in silence. He gave up on his book and tossed it to the table. What he did with his glasses, I didn’t know, but he didn’t toss them as carelessly as he did The Brothers Karamazov.
When he shifted sideways on the sofa and began rubbing my head, I softly asked, “Why wouldn’t your brother sell me to you? I was just a girl in a basement. Anyone could play that role. Why keep me if he knew you wanted me?”
I knew it was dangerous to bring up the subject of Charles, but with what just happened with the fire, my time in his brother’s basement had to have crossed both our minds. At first I didn’t think he was going to answer me, because it took so long for him to respond.
“He was trying to hurt me.”
Curious, I twisted my head along the cushion, until I found the set of hazel eyes already watching me. “Why would your brother want to hurt you?”
“Because I hurt him.”
“How?” I asked, knowing I was walking a dangerous line being so nosy about such a touchy subject.
Our eyes stayed locked. The inner ring of fiery gold didn’t seem so heartless right now, the thick outer ring of green minimizing its flame.
“Our whole lives had been a competition, beginning with the love of our father. Which I won. Even though he was older, I was the favored, and most of his wealth was left to me.
“Growing up, it became one competition after another. Better grades. Getting away with punishable acts. Prettier conquests.
“The girl you resembled who he was so in love with?” I nodded, because he’d already told me that Charles took me because I looked like someone he once wanted but couldn’t have. “She wasn’t interested in him because we were already secretly together. I knew he loved her but I never told him she was mine. I left him wanting what he couldn’t have.”
“But he found out.” He had to have.
“I believe so, though it was never spoken between us. A year into our relationship she was mugged and murdered. And raped in between.”
Was that why he was so determined that what he did to me wasn’t rape? That I had to willingly choose the option to bed him? It was still a messed up obsession, but I tried to overlook it for the moment, seeing as how he was finally opening up. “And you think Charles did that?”
“He knew that I had a fixation with cutting. I didn’t feel the need to cut everyone, certainly not her. But he slashed her all over when he was done with her. I’m quite certain it was his way of telling me it was him.”
“Is that why you cut me? To get back at him? Because you don’t do it anymore.” Thank God…
“The first time he showed me his new prize in the basement… I just...” He shook his head. “He had killed the woman we had both wanted, just to find her doppelgänger and keep her unconscious in the basement. He wanted you to be brainwashed and taught to accept him, but he was too impatient to see it through. I suspect he was too eager to show me up. To show me that he ended up with her after all. I didn’t agree with keeping you unconscious in a dark basement, so yes, I offered to buy you. But he was never going to let you go. He only offered me the occasional visitation because he knew it would hurt me. He also knew I wasn’t strong enough to refuse it.”
“So that’s why you really cut me. To damage me for him.”
His hand reached down and cupped the side of my face. “To let him know I knew he killed her.”
“But you never really called him out on it, did you? Why?”
“Because at the end of the day, he was still my brother.”
I lifted my head from the cushion, but his hand stayed put, his thumb softly stroking my cheek. I took in a breath and released it slowly. “I’m sorry your brother died,” I told him. “I wasn’t trying to kill him. I just wanted to get out.”
I guess even his nonchalant expression held muscles, because I didn’t think it was possible for his face to slacken more without turning into a frown, but it did. “I know. But it was only fitting. He always said she would be the death of him. He took her life and then you took his. And I have the feeling that one day you might be the death of me as well.”
Something weird ignited within me. That knowing moment of when to strike. He was calm. Vulnerable. Needy. I mov
ed to climb up and lie beside him on my side, resting my head just inches from his. My right hand moved to caress the side of his face, gently stroking back and forth, like he’d done with me. If it surprised him or made him question my motives, he didn’t show it.
His face was softer than I imagined it would be, and his eyes lazily closed for a moment, as if my touch was seriously that soothing to him. Was this really the first time I had touched him like this?
There was no five o’clock shadow. In fact, his face was smooth every time he rained kisses down on me. Day or night. He must’ve shaved at least twice a day for that.
Did I just think rained kisses? I was transitioning so well into this new role that I didn’t even realize what I was thinking half the time. Nor did I realize I was staring at his mouth, which was just inches from mine right now.
“Is she the reason you want me? Because I look like her?”
“Initially. You were a good match several years ago, but you’re slowly growing into something different. If you’re asking if she’s who I think of when we’re together, then no. That was fifteen years ago. I let go of her, despite my curiosity for you.”
I slowly leaned the last few inches separating us. My lips leaned against his as my face angled between the pillow and his head. I kissed him once unopposed. When he didn’t respond, my fingers crawled their way over to the nape of his neck and combed back and forth through his hair. I kissed him again. This time his mouth opened in response and his hand slid up my neck to rest at the back of my head. He kissed me tenderly, over and over again for the longest time. It was easy to get lost in the moment, because he never once tried to take it any further than just the mouth-to-mouth attention. I thought I’d have an epic battle raging against me in my mind, but for once it stayed quiet, non-resistant to my strategy of being everything he needed.
I didn’t mind that his hands kept my body secured against his. I didn’t mind that I found myself straddling him instead of the other way around. I didn’t even mind the way his kisses electrified my senses, for once making me want to go further, despite the way he kept us grounded and clothed.
It was a long time before I came back up for air. I was stretched out on top of him, his hands drawing circles on my upper back, the pain killers working wonders for the lower portion he was careful to avoid. But the way he gazed up at me unnerved me a little. Everything about him tonight was soft and vulnerable and caring. I just made out with him for twenty minutes and didn’t even remember who he was or what he’d done. He was just a man with lips that felt warm and sumptuous against mine. Nothing possessive or demanding. Just sweet, simple and dare I say, loving. Being wrapped up in his arms right now was hardly difficult.
And that was so fucking wrong I hated even thinking it.
My left hand reached over and played with a lock of his hair. “You’re different.”
Without changing the coolness of his gaze, he replied, “I’m very much the same.”
“No,” I rebutted quickly. “You were never like this with me. You were harsh and mean and rough. But lately, there have been moments when you came across more reserved. Sometimes kind. Am I wrong?”
“No. There have been times when I needed to be what you said. Harsh. Rough. Because I needed you to understand the way I rule my home. But that’s not who I am. Who you see now is who I am when I’m comfortable and unchallenged. Mind my every word and this is who I can always be for you.”
I frowned and sulked to the side, leaning my head on the front of his shoulder.
“But I was minding you,” I said softly. “And you whipped me.”
He let out an extended exhalation, his right hand moving to rub first his eye, then his temple. Good. I hope I guilt-tripped his ass right there. “I know you think I’m a monster. I don’t like beating you, but I will if it’s necessary. I’m sorry it had to be done. I told him I’d hurt you if he stepped out of line and he did. You’ve done nothing wrong since you came here. You’ve acclimated quite well actually.”
“Please don’t do it again.” I struggled with the words, the pain very real in my memory, my back suddenly lighting up with intense aches. “It hurts,” I choked out, a few tears making a run for it. “I can’t go through that again. Why did you even bring him here?”
After a long moment, he said, “I thought you would need…encouragement to bend to my will. Like with Veronica.”
“I don’t. I didn’t. I knew what it meant for me the moment I discovered you in my house. I knew you were going to bring me here. I knew that you were capable of hurting me if I didn’t obey. I also knew you wouldn’t hurt me if I did. So I obeyed you. Right from the start. Before I even knew Nick was here. So please. Send him home. You don’t need him to keep me in line.”
“Given our situation, I’m going to need a better reason than that to let him go. It poses a huge risk.”
“Do you want the truth or the reason you want to hear?”
“The truth. Always.”
I closed my eyes and let the thoughts flow through me. “Because I love him. And because I know what it’s like to be kept alive and drugged. Keeping him here, making him live like that, will only make me miserable. I’m not entirely sure what it is you want me to be for you, but I’m willing to bet miserable and depressed isn’t it. At least if I know Nick is alive and free of this, then I can learn to accept this life and move on. But I can’t do that while he’s locked up in the next room over. So please, let him go. This show of good faith has to go both ways in order for this to work.”
The silence that followed was excruciating. I didn’t dare interrupt it though, especially since he could seriously be considering it for me. I just wiped my tears away and snuggled back in on his chest. I had to admit, it wasn’t the worst place I could be right now.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally told me, and I breathed a much needed sigh of relief, the smallest smile turning my mouth upward.
“Thank you,” I replied softly. It was the best I could hope to achieve with my first attempt. “Can I speak freely?”
“Haven’t I let you all night?” His right hand came up to lie flat over the one I had on his chest.
“What is it that you expect from me? You’ve never actually told me what you want me to be for you.”
“Fair enough.” He blew out a quick breath before angling his head my way. “I want you to be my companion. Someone who does exactly what you’re doing now. Someone who shares my bed at night and fills my day with her company.”
“You mean like a wife.”
He nodded, nothing more. I rose from his chest and hitched my body up on my elbow.
“But you could have that with anyone. Why want me when you can have all that without feeling the need to lock her away from the world?”
His eyes took on a curious expression. Like he couldn’t believe I didn’t already know the answer to that. “Because you’re the one I want. And this was the only way I could have you.”
I couldn’t hide the aghast expression my entire body seemed to embrace. “But you didn’t even know me. I was just some doped up look-a-like in your brother’s basement.”
He shrugged. Jesus, sometimes I just wanted to smack the nonchalance right out of him. I knew he was capable of anger and aloofness, but was there anything in between?
“I wanted you. And when you went missing, I felt compelled to find you and take you for my own.”
Dumbfounded, I tried to make sense of it. My hand slipped out from beneath his and I sat completely up, waving it frantically around. “Do you know how asinine that sounds? Jesus. You don’t steal me, you date me!”
Sitting up, he twisted around me and sat down normally. His hand reached beneath my neck and grasped my lower jaw, guiding my body to sit on his lap. It wasn’t painful, just his way of being silently authoritative, though he did look slightly irritated with my choice of words, the gold in his eyes firing back up again. “I was being honest. You asked me why you? So I told you. I saw you. I wante
d you. I took you. You’re mine now. Did you miss the sign on the door? It says ‘Welcome to the Rest of Your Life, Now Bend Over.’” He released my jaw then, but I was still transfixed on his dominating stare. “I’ll hurt you if I have to, but I don’t want to.” As if to reiterate that, he tenderly tucked my hair behind my left ear. “And yes, you’re right. Dating would’ve been the better way to go. But you already knew me through Charles. You weren’t going to accept me any other way.”
Hell, whoever said I accepted him this way?
I felt the need to swallow several times. His gaze was seriously intense.
“Now it’s your turn to be honest. I want to know why you’re being so submissive this time. It’s not in your nature to just give in.”
“With all due respect…” Did I seriously just say that? “My mouth isn’t exactly being that cooperative.”
One side of his mouth hitched upward, the sassiness that he seemed to secretly adore about me lifting the playfulness of his expression a bit. “True. I’ve merely become more tolerable of it.”
I leaned in closer and draped my hands around his neck. Dragging my tongue an inch across his neck, I kissed him twice on the way to his ear. “I think you’re more than tolerable. I think you get rather turned on by my mouth.” My hand slid up his neck on the opposite side, gently scratching his nape with my fingernails. I had just begun necking him again when both hands slowly blocked and pushed me away. His smile hadn’t disappeared though.
“While I applaud your evasion techniques, this is exactly what I’m talking about. The last time I had you in my possession, you fought me all the way to the auction floor. Once you got here, you went on the defensive the opposite way, by giving me everything I wanted. So I’m curious? Why the change up?”
I reluctantly sighed. He was never going to let this go. Couldn’t say I blamed him. I doubt I would’ve if the roles were reversed. “What I told you before... About how I didn’t want to be beaten or manipulated or forced to play those awful games anymore?” He acknowledged my question with a curt nod. “That was only partially true. The other reason I’ve been so…forthcoming, is because I know how much you get off on manipulating me. And if I was going to have to be your prisoner, then I wanted to take away as much power from you as possible.” I tensed, because my brutal honesty could very well get me smacked. But when it didn’t, I added, “And if giving myself to you took a piece of the thrill away, then that’s what I was going to do.”