I type in my answer and push send, leaving the phone on the table and walking quickly to get back to her.
I’m keeping her.
Catherine
After a minute of watching the door, I slowly rise and take a look around the room. It’s small and a bit cold. The only escape is the door he went through. The one locked with a keypad.
I can’t fucking stay here like a caged rat. My heart stills in my chest. That’s what I am to them. My eyes rise with defiance to the door. I did what I thought was right, and the only thing I could do to survive. They can all fuck off. I don’t deserve this shit. I’m not a mouse or a rat.
I picture that sexy smirk and hear the man keeping me here call me kitten. It sends a shiver down my spine. I’m not his fucking kitten either. Even if I do think that pet name is sexy as hell, and it makes my pussy clench.
I walk to the chair and imagine smashing it against his head when that fucker gets back in here. I don’t know the code to unlock the door though. I'd have to be on the other side of the room to get a good view of him punching in the keys. Even then, I doubt I’d be able to make them out; it’s too fucking dark. I need to get the fuck out of this room, and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do that unless he physically lets me.
I know pleading with him to let me go would be of no use, but maybe I can beg him to let me out of this room and into another. One without a fucking lock. I need to be smart about this. I grip the back of the chair wanting so desperately to just beat the shit out of him, but I can’t. First of all, I’m weak as shit. Second, no matter how much I don’t like it, I’m stuck here until he decides to let me out.
My body tenses as the door opens. I watch as he walks into the room with a plate balanced in his hands. Anger heats my blood. This is a game to him. He thinks he can play with me. He stops as the door clicks shut behind him and he stares at me. I try to school my expression to neutral, so I don't reveal how I'm really feeling. But then I see his expression, and he looks pleased. He’s happy that I’m angry. I release my grip on the chair and take a step back before I give in to the urge to pick it up and throw it at him.
“You look upset, kitten.”
My nostrils flare. I decide to settle on the truth. “I am.” I keep my hands straight so I don’t ball them into fists. It won't do me any good to fight a man like him head on. I need to save my energy for when I'll have to fight him off, since I'm sure that's coming. I should also be adopting a more submissive tone considering I’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s the only way I can get out of here. But I’m holding on to my anger. It’s better than giving into the hopelessness of the situation.
“With me?” He tsks and shakes his head as he takes slow and deliberate steps toward me. I take another step back as he sets the plate down on the chair. “Don’t be angry with me, kitten. I--”
“Stop calling me that!” I scream at him, hating how he’s talking to me. Like he’s placating a disobedient child.
His shoulders stiffen, and the soft angles of his face harden with anger. “Now now, you shouldn’t speak to me that way. You’re a smart girl, so you should know better.” His tone is soothing, like he's trying to appease me, but it's right on the edge of taunting me with condescension.
“What do you want from me?” I ask with a choked voice. I want to get this part over with. That’s really what I need to find out. I want to know what I have to do to get the fuck out of this room.
“I want you to submit to me,” he answers simply.
“Fine.” I whisper the word. I need to play along in order to get the fuck out of here. I relax my shoulders, trying to channel a softer side of me.
He tilts his head and echoes, “Fine?” A low chuckle rises in his chest, and I have to keep my eyes wide open and my lips slammed shut to avoid showing how much it turns me on. What the fuck is wrong with me? My breathing picks up and I take another step back, not trusting him or my reactions.
“Alright, then...kitten.” He stares at me, waiting for a response to his pet name for me. I don’t give him one. Instead I hold my tongue and push down my pride. “Come over here and get down on your knees.”
My heart sinks. I’m not doing that shit. He’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks I’m going to suck him off. As much as I want to obey him so I can get the fuck out of here, I’m not going to do that. I’m not a whore. I could bite his dick off though. I feel my eyebrows raise at the thought, and the tiny cellar fills with a deep, rough laugh from the man standing across from me.
“You’re adorable, kitten. But that’s not going to happen. Not yet.” He shakes his head with a small smile on his face.
“What’s not going to happen?” I play dumb, like I wasn’t that obvious just now.
“You haven’t earned my touch yet, and you don’t need it right now.” He picks up the plate and moves the chair so it's facing me before sitting down. “Now come here and get on your knees so I can feed you.”
I hesitate to move. I don’t believe him, not for one second. And kneeling before him would put me at an even greater physical disadvantage.
“Come on, I know you’re hungry.” He sets the plate on his lap and motions with his fingers for me to come to him. “It’s almost eleven, and you didn’t eat last night. You must be starving.”
My eyes narrow on him. I hate that he watched me last night. I knew it. I should have trusted my instincts. I knew someone was out there. “How long did you watch me?”
“I've been watching you ever since I got the hit on you.” He’s quick with his response, and it chills my blood.
“Are you a member of the mafia?” I ask.
He chuckles and says, “Which one?” The fact that he thinks this is funny really pisses me off.
“Are you a Cassano?” I ask with force.
“No. I’m not.”
“So why are you going to kill me then?” My heart sinks. I don’t understand. How many fucking people did I piss off?
“I’m not going to kill you,” he says with a hard voice. His blue eyes turn dark and I can feel the weight of the conviction in his voice. “It took a lot for me to be able to have you. But I bought you from the Cassanos, and now I’m keeping you.” I can’t help that my pussy twitches at his words.
“Why?” my voice asks, without my conscious consent.
He leans forward slightly. “I’ve asked you twice now to come and get down on your knees. You need to learn to listen.”
My feet move of their own accord until I’m standing in front of him. My legs tremble as I slowly kneel before him. I swallow thickly. Finally, I sit on my heels and keep my eyes on the door behind him. I have to do what needs to be done. My heart sinks and I just want to cry.
“Look at me, kitten,” his deep voice commands me, and I look up at him reluctantly. I feel weak, and I hate it. Everyone assumes I’m weak. Now that I’m on my knees without a fight, it’s hard for me to disagree. I look at his gorgeous face with nothing but sadness on mine.
“Don’t be sad. You’ll enjoy this.” He leans forward and places a large hand on my shoulder. I fucking lean into his touch and close my eyes before I can stop myself. “Trust me.”
My eyes harden at his words, but before I can spit back that I don’t even know him, let alone trust him, he takes his hand away and says, “You’ll learn to trust me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and wait for his next move. My eyes are drawn to his fingers as he reaches for a chunk of what I think is tuna. My mouth waters as he dips it into some sort of sauce and brushes it along the side of the cup until none of the sauce is dripping from the chunk of fish. He brings it to my lips and I instinctively lean back and move my hands up in front of my face.
The man’s deep voice rings out. “No.” My body jumps at his disapproval, and my heart races as I look into his eyes. Half of me still expects him to be violent toward me, even though he hasn’t yet. “You know what I want.”
He seems to relax some as he registers my fear. “H
ands on your knees like they were, and mouth open. You were seated perfectly.”
I obey him even though my fear seems to paralyze my body. I’m simply moving to his commands in order to survive. I have to admit him saying I was “seated perfectly” gives me a small thrill. And I fucking hate that. I wish he didn’t have this affect on me.
“Open,” he commands, and I do as he says. He gently places the chunk of tuna in my mouth and as he does, my stomach grumbles from hunger.
He smiles down at me and dips another piece in the sauce. “I knew you were hungry, kitten.” He looks at me again with curiosity, holding the piece over the plate. “Do you like it?”
My heart beats slowly as I search his face. I wonder if he’s toying with me. If I admit that I like it, he might take it away and make me starve.
“I’d like you to answer me quickly and honestly, Catherine.” His voice holds a note of admonishment, and I feel compelled to apologize.
“I’m sorry, s--” Sir is on the tip of my tongue, but I pause as I realize I don’t know what to call him.
“Anthony,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “No need to be sorry.” His other hand grips my chin to get my attention. “You’re learning. I can be reasonable so long as you’re making an effort to obey. Is that understood?” he asks.
“Yes, Anthony.”
“Good.” His fingers stroke my jaw briefly. “Did you like that?” he asks.
“Yes...Anthony.” It feels odd saying his name again so soon. But I imagine it’s what he wants.
He smirks at me, the fucking bastard. “You don’t have to say it every time.” He holds the fish out and I open my mouth obediently.
It’s so fucking good. It’s not fair that I am fucking loving this fish. It’s sweet, with a hint of spice. I’d eat this every day if I could. My eyes widen. He knew I’d like it. He smirks at me again as if reading my mind.
“Open,” he says, holding out another piece.
I do as he says. And again and again. His fingers brush against my lips more and more. He puts a piece up to my mouth, and I take it and swallow before I realize his finger is still in front of my face.
“A bit of sauce, suck.” My core heats and stirs as I maintain eye contact and open my mouth. His lips part as he slips his finger slowly into my mouth. I gently suck and massage him with my tongue. His eyes go half-lidded, and his breath comes in pants. And that’s when I push my teeth down. Not hard, but enough that they scrape against him as he slowly pulls his finger free from my mouth. I know it didn’t hurt him, but he got the message.
Once his finger is finally released, he grabs my jaw forcefully. He shoves his thumb into my mouth, tilting my head slightly. I'm forced to remain still, with my neck bent at an awkward angle. “Be a good girl, kitten. I know you could hurt me if you wanted to.” He leans in closer and whispers in my ear. His hot breath sends shivers down my back. “Just remember, I could hurt you too, if I wanted.”
The threat makes me regret my action. My eyes fall, and tears prick the back of them as he releases me. My heart hurts, and anxiety races through me.
“Open.” I hear him give his command, but I can’t. I feel sick to my stomach. I fall back onto my heels and turn away from him. I can’t. I can’t do this. I back away slightly as he moves to the floor, setting the plate on the metal chair with a clink. Tears leak from my eyes.
“Hush, kitten,” he says as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. “I understand, I do.” He rubs my back gently and it calms me. I lean into his touch, loving the warmth. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been held. Once I went into hiding, I was always alone in that house. It’s made me weak.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to enjoy this, and I don’t want you to be sad. But I don’t want you to push me either. Not unless you want to be punished.” I bury my head deeper into his chest, trying to resist how everything he’s saying is making me want to play. This isn’t pretend though. There'll be no stopping this once it’s started, and that terrifies me. But as much as I’d like to tell myself it hasn’t started, I know it already has. And I’m playing into his hands.
The realization sobers me. I slowly back away and get back into a submissive position, although my eyes aren’t on him at all. I stare at the floor and try to gather some kind of composure. I quickly wipe the tears away and chance a look at him as he sits back on the chair. He looks uncertain. It’s an expression I haven’t seen on him before. It makes me fucking terrified. He’s quick to adjust the look on his face.
“Come,” he says with a firm resolve. He pats his left leg. “Let’s try this again.” He waits patiently as I stand and sit awkwardly on his lap. His left arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me closer to him. Even though he’s so tall compared to me, his head is nearly level with mine with us seated like this. He rests his left hand in my lap, dangerously close to my pussy. My nightgown has ridden up some and I feel exceptionally vulnerable. I’m stiff on his lap, and I can’t relax with his hand where it is.
He waits a moment before saying or doing anything. It’s awkward as fuck.
“You need to relax.” He dips his finger into the sauce and brings it to my lips. He stares into my eyes rather than giving me the command. I do as he wants and open my mouth. He slips his finger past my lips. His eyes are drawn to my mouth as I gently suck his finger clean. When he pulls his finger away, he gives me a satisfied look.
“Good kitten.” He puts another piece of the tuna tartare to my lips and I accept it. Seeing his approval eases something in me. I know so long as he’s pleased, I’m safe with him. And so far, pleasing him is simple, but I don’t know what other terms he has.
On the next bite, I find myself leaning into his fingers. He tsks and pulls the piece away from me. My heart rate speeds up until I realize what I’ve done to upset him. I swallow and sit back on my heels, exactly the way I was positioned before. His left hand runs along the thin fabric of my nightgown, just above my clit. “Good job, kitten.” My pussy spasms around nothing. I close my eyes, hating how my body is betraying me. My nipples are hard, and the light brush of the fabric against them only turns me on even more. Other than his hand edging closer and closer to my pussy, he shows no signs of his own arousal.
“Eat until you’re full.” He grabs another piece, and we continue like this. Each time he feeds me his fingers brush a little closer to my throbbing clit, until finally his deft fingers are massaging small circles over my clit. I’m soaked for him, and primed for him to fuck me. And I fucking hate it. He’s playing me and using my body against me.
He leans into my neck and whispers with his lips barely touching the shell of my ear, “I knew you’d like this. You just need to admit that you want it.”
I’m not sure what angers me more--that I’ve allowed myself to be such easy prey for him, or that he’s right. I want him to fuck me, and I fucking hate him for it. But I’m not going to let him reduce me to nothing but a whore.
I push away from him and kick the plate off his lap while I fall to the floor. The dish smashes on the ground as I fall backward.
He rises quickly, somewhat bracing my fall. The anger washing off of him is so strong that I scoot backward on my ass without even realizing at first. My heart races in my chest, and my blood rushes in my ears. Fear consumes me.
Making Anthony angry is something I shouldn’t do. I know this as a truth, but I pissed him off anyway. I was going to play along. Why couldn’t I just do what I needed to?
I expect him to hit me, or to grab me like he did earlier for my outburst. Inwardly I’m cursing myself for not just going along with this. But I can’t. I’m more than that.
I anticipate his aggression. He doesn’t get violent. Instead, he turns his back on me.
“I’m disappointed in you, kitten,” he says as he carefully picks up several pieces of thick porcelain. He’s slow to pick them up, and for a moment I imagine myself grabbing a single piece, the one closest to me. But I don’t. I�
�m frozen with fear. After a moment of him cleaning up the mess I made, he looks me in the eyes as he picks up the last shard.
He turns to the door with an expression of discontent and that’s when I realize he’s leaving me.
My racing heart tries to leap from my chest. I can’t be left here. I need to get out. “Please don’t leave me here!” I scream and beg. I didn’t want to, but I have to try. I don’t want him to leave me here alone. I can’t sit here with nothing. No plan, no hope, fucking nothing.
“I’m sorry, kitten,” he says as he turns his back on me. “Tonight training will begin. It’s best that you put this rebellion behind you. You won’t enjoy being punished.”
Tonight? How fucking long will I have to wait in this room alone?
“I have a life! Please just let me go!” I feel weak and hate what I’ve become.
“I know you do, kitten. And I would provide for you in every way you need.”
“I want my life back!” I don’t want to be his version of a pampered pet. I want my job and my friends. I worked hard to create this new life for myself, and I want it back. I don’t want it torn from me.
He turns back to me with anger sparking in his eyes. It's enough to make me retreat until my back hits the wall. He strides toward me with a dark aura surrounding him.
“You want an office? You want to go online so you can work? Do you want your books, kitten?” I stare at him, not knowing what to say.
“I told you to answer me when I ask you a question,” he says with barely contained anger.
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