by Ella Miles
Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. And all I can think about is what it would feel like to shove my cock into her glorious mouth. Her long pink tongue massaging me, bringing me to the brink.
“Caspian?”
She must have said something.
“Yes?”
She shakes her head. “I thanked you for saving me, or whatever it was when you took me from Dante. But that doesn’t make you a saint.”
“I never said it did.”
“Then let me go. You have no use for me. You are a good-looking man. I’m sure you can get plenty of women. You have enough money you can pay a nice woman to live out your fantasies. You don’t need me. Call my brothers. Tell them I’m safe and for them to rescue me. You don’t need the hassle. If Dante finds out you have me, your business will be ruined, and you will probably end up dead.”
I don’t disagree with her. She’s right. But again I think too much with my cock, and all I can think about is she called me good-looking. I think back to the day we first met. The look of lust in her eyes I thought I imagined. Was that real?
“No.”
It’s a simple word that answers her unspoken question.
She doesn’t react to my word. She knew it would be my answer. It’s why she never asked the question. It’s why she tried to sneak out in the middle of the night.
“I can promise you this, Gia. I won’t touch you. I won’t hurt you. Nothing. For one month.
“For one month you can move about this house as if you aren’t enslaved. For one month you can have as much freedom as you like within these four walls. Come and go in any room as you please. Ask Michi to make you any food you want. Ask me to do anything within reason for you in this house. Heal. Stop trying to sneak out.
“Then, after the month is up, you are free to try and run as much as you want. But when the month is up, attempting to run will be as useless as it is now. Your body can’t handle running now, but even if you were healed, I have the best security system installed in my house. Better than ones I install in any of my clients’ homes. You will never escape without my permission.”
“Why?”
I shake my head. I just told her she was safe for an entire month, and she asks me why. She’s too curious for her own good. She should accept my offer and work for the next month to figure out my weaknesses, instead of using all her strength to stand in this dark hallway and talk to me.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation.
“I don’t play with broken toys, even partially broken.”
She narrows her eyes into thin slits. Her eyes are the only thing I can see in the dark of the night, and now they are barely visible.
“I’m entirely broken.”
“No!” My voice is louder than I wanted when I opened my mouth, and her body jumps. I slow and calm my voice. “You are not broken. Just injured. You can heal.”
She shivers under my gaze. “When the month is up, will you hurt me?”
Yes. No. I don’t know. I can’t tell her any of those things. I don’t even know what I want myself. But the answer is most likely yes.
“I have a track record of hurting women. I’ve never failed.”
“Neither has Dante. Dante always ends the lives of the women he captures within a month. He failed.”
She’s hoping I’ll admit I, too, will fail. But hurting her isn’t my mission, unlike Dante. I will wound her whether I want to or not. Her being in my life will mean she will end up fatally injured, forever.
“Dante never played with your heart.”
She gasps. I got the reaction I wanted, now time to close.
“He fought to get it, but he never had it. You can’t take a heart by force. It has to be given, willingly. I don’t just want your body Gia. I want all of you. Your heart most of all. And I’m the type of man who won’t give up until I have it.”
“And if you claimed my heart?”
“I would never give it back. I don’t think you’ve ever lived without your heart. It’s like living in the dark shadows, never being able to step into the light. It’s not a particularly enjoyable way to live.”
She silently nods like she understands. She doesn’t. I’ve seen women lose their minds by the time I’m done with them. They leave me more broken than the woman leaving Dante’s side. Death is the only answer for someone who has lost the will to live.
“Hold onto your heart, Gia. Don’t give it to me. And don’t let me steal it. If you want to live after you leave here, then keep yourself guarded. And when the month is up, find a way to escape.”
8
Gia
A month is a long time, but at the same time, not long enough. Especially when I’ve spent most of my month in bed. I’ve never slept so much in all of my life.
When my body hits the bed, I’m out. It doesn’t matter what plans I had before. Once I’m in Caspian’s bed, I’m out.
When I leave, I’m stealing this bed. Caspian doesn’t spend much of his money on anything in his house, but he didn’t scrimp on this bed. It has the thickest mattress, the silkiest sheets, and the fluffiest pillow I’ve ever laid on. It makes it impossible to get out of bed. Even more impossible when my body feels like it’s gotten repeatedly hit by a truck.
Caspian spent most of his time away since he gave me his proclamation weeks ago. Most likely because he has a fancy house elsewhere, he enjoys staying at. But even this tiny cabin is beginning to grow on me. I might even fall in love with the simplicity of it, if it wasn’t just another form of a prison.
The forest surrounds the cabin on one side, with a small vineyard on the other. Nothing to hear but birds chirping for miles when I sit out on the small deck overlooking the forest and vineyard. But I can understand, if he has a larger, more extravagant house, why he spends most of his time there instead of here.
I don’t know what to think about Caspian. We spent a lot of time together the first day when he rescued me, but we haven’t spent any time together since. Michi takes care of my every need. He brings me food. It started out simple, just a broth or soup, but now he feeds me more extravagant meals like pasta and meats, both have put some much-needed fat on my bones.
Michi brings me clothes. The small closet now contains almost half as many clothes for me as it does for Caspian.
And he brings me pain medications when I can’t take the pain in my legs any longer.
Most of the bruising and swelling is gone. If I wear pants and long sleeves, no one would realize what I have been through. And my leg has healed, mostly. I can walk, but I have a limp. Michi brought me a cane, and that makes walking more comfortable. But I don’t want to be using a cane the rest of my life.
It’s only been a few weeks, I tell myself. My leg will continue to heal. Even without a doctor.
My month is almost up, and I have no idea what awaits me when my time is up. More importantly, I don’t know how to escape. I’ve tried not to obsess about escaping as I did with Dante. It made it so much harder when I realized I would never escape on my own.
I haven’t found a phone or a computer. I have no way to contact Matteo or Arlo, but surely they are looking for me by now. They have limitless resources. They will find me. I just need to give them more time. And in the meantime, pretend I’m in a quiet spa. That’s all this is. A peaceful, secluded spa where I heal, uninterrupted.
I hear a door shut, and I quiver. I can never get used to the loud unexpected sounds. Michi is good about trying to be quiet. I don’t know how he lives here by himself in the silence. It’s nice for a while, but I’m not sure I could live here indefinitely.
I hold my breath and pull the covers up tighter against my chest. I’m wearing yoga pants and a tank top, but I need more protection against whatever is lurking in the hallway.
Caspian is here. He’s only come home a handful of times since I’ve been here. And he’s usually pissed. He yells and stomps like he needs a break from the world and uses this place as
his escape.
As long as he doesn’t use me as an escape.
He treads heavily through the house, not hiding his anger, while I can barely breathe. All I can do is focus on his footsteps and hope they stay away from this bedroom.
They grow closer, and my heart is in my throat. Caspian may have been nothing but sweet to me when he stole me, but that doesn’t mean he will continue to be kind to me. He belongs in Dante’s fucked up world. I know what that means. I know what he meant when he said he would break me when Dante didn’t.
Caspian is better looking than Dante. Caspian has a charm Dante doesn’t. Caspian has a sadness I can connect with. Caspian will still rape me, but when he does, I will make excuses for him. I will want him because sex with him will be better than Dante. I’ll fall for him in the same way Beauty fell in love with the Beast. But unlike the Beast, Caspian won’t turn into a prince.
Caspian’s footsteps get louder, until I know he is pacing outside my door, trying to decide if he will keep his promise to me or not. He’s pissed and probably wants a release. He promised he wouldn’t touch me for another week, but his reserve seems to be slipping. Whatever happened today has pushed him over the edge.
It wouldn’t matter if he broke his promise. I don’t get anything if he breaks. I just lose my ability to trust him. Not that I believe him anyway.
I can’t do anything but wait and grip the sheets to my chest like holding on and sinking heavy into this bed will save me.
I wait for him to burst through the door and beat me.
He doesn’t.
I wait for him to rip off my clothes.
He doesn’t.
I wait for him to thrust his cock into my unwilling cunt.
He doesn’t.
Nothing happens. I don’t know why he made the promise not to touch me for a month. Maybe he was testing his ability to control his urges. Or maybe, he’s breaking down my walls so it will be easier to hurt me when he finally does touch me.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. He won’t touch me. I know that now. Even though he’s still pacing, his steps have slowed. He’s calmed down. He won’t break his promise.
Slowly the door opens, and Caspian enters.
His shirt sleeves are rolled up haphazardly. His blue tie hangs loosely around his neck, and the first few buttons of his once crisp white shirt are undone. There is a hint of red on his shirt, not enough to be blood. Or is it?
I continue my scrutinization of his body. His pants are slightly wrinkled from wearing them too long. And his body hunches slightly, like he doesn’t even have the strength to stand upright anymore.
His hair is disheveled. He usually styles his hair in a purposefully tousled way. He’s got the perfect bed hair down. But this is more. It’s not styled. Just messy. It matches the chaos in his eyes.
He looks like a disaster, but despite whatever he went through to make him look like this, his mouth and body don’t give away any distress.
He hasn’t said anything since entering the room. He puts his hands in his pockets, most likely to remind himself he can’t touch me.
I let go of the sheets and toss them down to my waist. Caspian both scares me and electrifies me. His eyes travel to my breasts, and I ache for more. I see the promise in his eyes, that he will do more if I say the word.
I don’t.
I won’t give in to his steamy stare. He saved me, but I’m still not free. I will never let a man touch me again until I’m free.
“What happened?” I ask, after several minutes pass of nothing.
He stares, and I see everything. It was bad. Blood everywhere. But he’s used to seeing blood and death. The same as me. He lost someone. Not a close relative or friend, but someone he was responsible for. He never fails.
I see it all in his eyes. I’m used to not being able to read people, but Caspian reads like an open book. I’m not sure if I’m not usually observant, or if I prefer not to know. Because if I were able to read the people in my life, I wouldn’t like what I found.
Caspian doesn’t answer, except with his eyes.
“What do you want with me, Caspian? Let me go. Let me call my family.”
He doesn’t answer. He stares at me. His jaw eventually ticks familiarly. He does it to hide his real emotions. Because he doesn’t want people to know what he’s feeling. But I notice.
“Seven more days,” he says.
I stare at him, trying to decipher the meaning of his words. He’ll let me go in seven days, or he can finally touch me in seven days? He doesn’t clarify.
“What do you want with me, Caspian?” I half whisper, half scream.
I expect a smirk or a half-hearted grin. I expect him to think of some deliciously, naughty thing he wants to do to me that I only get a hint of in his eyes.
I get none.
His mind doesn’t leave the room. His thoughts stay in the present. And his quietness scares me more than any dirty thoughts ever could.
“Nothing, I should have never taken you,” he says so quietly, I’m not sure he said it.
Caspian turns and walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I will never admit my thoughts turn dirty when it comes to him. That Caspian stars in my fantasies. It’s just because I’ve been without a man for so long. It has nothing to do with the man, and it has everything to do with me.
One day left.
Days left in my month is how I keep track of time. It’s better than counting seconds, like I was doing before at Dante’s.
My body wants to spend the day in bed. It’s so comfy, and even though I’ve healed tremendously in the last month, I still have a long ways to go. Another day in bed would do my body good.
I won’t lie around my last day though. I need to get up and out. I need to enjoy my last day, if it is, in fact, my last day of ‘freedom.’
I stretch, before moving to the edge of the bed. I’m wearing pajama pants and a tank top. I consider changing, but I’m not allowed out of the house except to sit out on the deck, so there is no reason to change. I brush my teeth and comb my hair, which finally has all the knots out of it. And then I walk to the kitchen, smelling the delicious french toast cooking on the stove.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, before Michi realizes I’m awake.
“Wow, I wasn’t sure you knew how to get out of bed for breakfast,” Michi says.
I smile softly as I lift the coffee to my lips. I don’t know what Michi does to the coffee but every time is different and mouthwatering.
I take a sip. “Mmmhmm.”
Michi lifts an eyebrow as he holds a spatula in his hand to flip the toast.
“Good?”
I nod. “Delicious as always. Where is this roast from?”
“Hawaii. I thought you deserved a bit of a vacation. And since you can’t go to Hawaii, I thought I would bring a tiny part of Hawaii to you.”
“Thank you. Is that french toast?” I ask with too much excitement in my eyes and voice.
He nods. “Your favorite.”
I bite my lip. French toast was never my favorite. It’s always too sweet. But anything Michi makes has quickly become my favorite.
I glance out at the sunlight covering the deck. I want to eat outside, but I want to talk more with Michi first. I glance around the small house and open my ears as best I can, trying to hear if Caspian is here.
“Caspian is at work; you have the house to yourself,” Michi says.
I stare up at him incredulously. He can read my mind as easily as I can read the word on the side of the coffee cup.
Buona giornata; “have a good day” in Italian.
I warm. I will have a good day, whatever awaits me. It will be good.
“I put a copy of Treasure Island out on the deck for you to read.”
“Thank you.” Michi has gotten me countless books since I’ve been here. They are always amazing. Books about adventure or travel. Never about love or family. He’s careful with the books he chooses for me. He makes sure they are enjoya
ble, without reminding me of anyone I might miss.
I drink more of my coffee while Michi cooks. I usually eat my breakfast in bed, and then come out and talk to him for lunch. We never talk about anything serious. He takes my mind away from my life, but I’m running out of time if I want to know anything about Caspian.
“What is it like to work for Caspian?” I ask. I rarely even say his name in front of Michi, so it’s weird to say it now.
“He’s a good employer. I’m happy, and he’s more than generous.”
“You live here all the time?”
He nods. “I like the seclusion. I’ve only taken a handful of vacations in the five years I’ve worked for him.”
“Are you allowed to leave?”
He chuckles with his back to me as he flips my french toast. He finally turns back. “Of course I can leave, Gia. I’m not a slave. How do you think I get this tasty coffee and french toast for you?”
I blush. “What can you tell me about Caspian? How did he get into the security world? Does he date? Does he have any family nearby?”
Michi freezes. “I don’t think I should talk about Caspian’s personal life. Any questions you have about Caspian need to go to him.”
I frown, but I was expecting he wouldn’t say much about Caspian Conti. The man will remain a mystery to me, for at least another twenty-four hours.
“Why don’t you take your coffee outside and enjoy the sunshine?” Michi says, dismissing me. I don’t ask him if he also knows today is my last day of ‘freedom,’ but it appears from the sadness in his eyes, he knows.
I take my coffee and walk outside to my favorite chair, but it feels more like I’m walking to the guillotine. Or at least my last meal before death finds me.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings, but I won’t dwell on it. I’ll eat my yummy food. I’ll read my book. I’ll tan in the sun. And I won’t think about tomorrow.
My breakfast and lunch are delicious. Michi is an excellent cook. I don’t know why Caspian doesn’t have him cook wherever Caspian stays when he isn’t here.