by Vonna Harper
Enslaved. Brought to her knees. Drawn into another world.
“I wondered…” she managed, before running out of thought.
“What? Whether we’d get to this? It was never in doubt.”
He came around her, trailing his fingers over her hips as he did and positioned himself so the window was behind him. She still caught glimpses of the storm-trapped trees, and the sound of the rain striking the glass was like drumming. Because she’d worked through countless Florida storms, she knew how hot and close the air out there was, how hard breathing could become.
“I have a test for you,” he said. “How you perform won’t change anything for me, but I’m curious to see how deep you are into what’s happening. Call it a measure of acceptance—or resistance, depending on your actions.”
She licked her lips. “Do you want me to say anything?”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “Not long ago it would have never occurred to you that you should ask that question. Most times I prefer silence, but it might amuse me to hear your observations.”
He hooked a forefinger through the collar ring and lifted it, making her arch her spine. “I’m going to untie your wrists, but there’s no reason for you to assume you’re anywhere near free. I simply want to give you the opportunity to participate more fully in your submission.”
She tried to nod—no easy task, considering he still had a firm hold on the ring. Arousal worked through her in waves, keeping her so off balance she could barely concentrate. One second she fought an almost desperate desire to run for safety, the next she longed to plunge fully into her new reality.
“Submission,” he repeated. “How does the word make you feel?”
“Nervous. Anticipating.”
“And that surprises you.”
“Yes,” she answered the non-question. “At least I, ah, guess it does. I wasn’t sure how I’d respond here.”
“No first-timer does.” The pressure on her neck eased until she no longer had to look at the ceiling. He still had hold of the ring and could easily reinforce his message of power. “Then, although you might find this hard to believe, eventually the thrill goes out of the game. What was once new and exciting becomes ordinary—unless…”
Maybe she should have been accustomed to how he seemed to lose his train of thought, but she couldn’t help wondering if it was a matter of him deliberately stopping himself from saying too much. Her family had always been straight shooters. They spoke their minds. A man who did the opposite confused and alarmed her.
But then she’d said damn little about what had brought her here.
“Let me see your hands,” he commanded and drew his finger out of the ring.
His nails left pinpricks of heat on her throat as she swiveled away from him. Teeth clenched, she presented him with her back. She wasn’t close to being comfortable with having her ass exposed, but awareness of how much he could see of her came in second to anticipating what he would do next.
“Don’t expect me to do all the work.” He lifted her hands off her buttocks. “Stay just like that.”
Keeping her arms elevated made her shoulders burn, but for reasons she only partly comprehended, she wanted to please him—if that were possible. When he was done untying the ropes around her wrists, he positioned her arms by her sides and reached around her. He looped the rope through the collar ring, leaving the ends to hang between her breasts. Then he again spun her toward him once more and laced his fingers through hers. She felt connected to him, the other half of something larger than them.
“Squeeze. I need to see whether you’ve lost strength.”
Barely caring, she complied. Not long ago she’d looked into his eyes and should have remembered everything about them, but there was nothing familiar about the black orbs. His nearness enveloped her, marched her toward the cave where he lived.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered.
“You should be.” He lifted her right arm and started wrapping the rope around her wrist.
Hyper aware of the flames trapped under the strands, she recorded his every move. When he’d finished, he seized her other arm and repeated the task. Both arms were now deeply bent with her fingers under her chin and her hands once more useless.
He pushed her back, folded his arms across his considerable chest and studied what he’d accomplished. “You’re so easy. There’s no fight to you.”
“Is that what you want, me struggling?”
“Maybe.”
Beneath the ‘maybe’ she heard yes. Her mind slipped back into the world of make-believe. She was a member of a rebel group determined to overthrow the ruling party, and her task had been to use sex to distract the guards. But she’d been found out, tied up and brought before the military leader. Instead of killing her, he’d declared she was more useful alive. He’d promised his men they could have her once he was done with her then dismissed the troops.
Now it was just the two of them. She was his prisoner.
Chapter Eleven
“You shouldn’t have come here,” her captor said. Like earlier, his words brought her back to reality. “You might regret it.”
Wondering if he’d tapped into her fantasy, she said the only thing she could think of. “I can’t leave. If I do, I’ll deal with the consequences.”
“Yeah.” He seized her elbows and lifted them. “You will.”
Suddenly he was propelling her backward across the room. He slammed her into a wall so hard she was stunned. “Too late. Too damn late.”
Don’t say anything to set him off. See if you can bring him back.
“I’m not just a Dom,” he told her. “Sometimes, I become a predator. This is one of those times. A predator takes what he wants and I want you.”
Thoughts of pacifying him evaporated, leaving her full of his words and strength. She curled her useless fingers tightly and fixed her gaze at the man who now put her in mind of a wolf.
“Naked.”
He gave no indication of what he had in mind when he turned his back on her and walked out of the room. She stared at the open doorway with her senses straining, trying to determine what he was doing. She thought about leaving the wall but didn’t take the chance.
Naked, he’d said and naked he’d do.
When he returned, the scissors he’d used on her earlier dangled from fingers that dwarfed the tool. The way he was regarding her, she wasn’t sure he was aware of what he held.
“You should have run. Shouldn’t have let me capture you,” he said.
“I couldn’t help it. You were faster and stronger, well armed.” She couldn’t say whether she was playing along in an attempt to placate him or had become a willing participant in this rainy day’s scene.
“And I’m experienced in not letting the enemy escape.”
She’d become the enemy in his mind? Something about seeing him as an opposing force kicked her libido up a notch. This wasn’t a stand-off between equals. They’d been at war until he’d rendered her helpless. Now she was his.
Belonged to him.
She gnawed on her lower lip. “What are you going to do with me?” she finally thought to ask. “Maybe hold me for ransom?”
“I’m not sure you’re worth anything to your tribe.”
A tribe? Where had he gone mentally? “I’m the chief’s daughter and a warrior in my own right. Of course I’m valuable.”
His chuckle held no warmth. “A true warrior wouldn’t have let herself be caught so easily. It’s time for you to learn what happens to those I don’t see as my equal—those I’ve enslaved.”
Concerned the game might have taken a dangerous turn, she pressed herself against the wall. If he tried anything—anything he hadn’t already, that is—she’d knee him where a man hated being kneed. Hopefully, that would bring him to his senses.
“I don’t want to be your slave. Untie me.”
“No.”
“Why not? Are you afraid I might do the same to you?”
“That’ll never happen.” He extended the scissors toward her.
Driven by self-preservation, she lowered her head and charged. She slammed into his chest, rattling her mind.
“I don’t like this!” Fighting to stay conscious, she continued to push at him.
He took a backward step then planted his feet against her middle, easily shoving her to the wall. She fought the ropes rendering her arms useless as fiercely as she did his greater strength.
“The prisoner believes she can escape. Time to teach her how wrong she is.”
She didn’t recognize his voice. Caution argued with instinct, telling her to give up and go along with whatever his plan was, but maybe he hadn’t planned any of this.
Maybe he’d changed more than his voice had.
“You can’t do this!” She tried to kick him, but he easily swept her foot aside. “You have no right.”
If he heard her argument, he gave no indication. After letting her struggle to free herself from his all-possessive hand and the damned wall until her muscles trembled, he grabbed both wrist ropes in one hand and hauled her over to the bed. He half-lifted her and threw her face down onto it.
“I like a fighter. Makes it all worthwhile.”
Wondering what he meant distracted her from everything except making sure she could breathe.
“I’ve drawn this out long enough,” he said. “Deprived myself too long.”
He was going to rape her, turn what had started out so exciting into something awful. She grew weak at the understanding that begging him not to continue on this path wouldn’t change anything. Not sure what she had in mind, she tried to lift her upper body.
“No, slave.” He planted his hand on the space between her shoulder blades and pushed her back down. “Not until it’s what I want.”
This was all wrong, an abomination, the start of a nightmare.
She was still trying to wrap her mind around that when he took hold of her T-shirt’s hem and pulled it away from her waist. A snipping sound, along with the loss of tension against her breasts, left no doubt that he was cutting the garment off her. He pulled the two halves from her back. As long as she remained on her belly, her breasts were safe. He severed her bra along her spine and at the straps.
“Get it.” He slapped her buttocks. “Message delivered.”
“I get it,” she retorted through clenched teeth.
Her words filled her with resolve not to become a blubbering mess. Besides—and who knew whether he was aware of it—the most recent manhandling had gotten her juices flowing again. She really was a slut, a submission-loving slut.
As long as it didn’t go too far.
He dropped the scissors onto the floor and grabbed her destroyed bra. He pulled it off her and placed it near her body.
“The woman warrior should have come dressed for battle. You’ve made it too easy for me.”
“Would it have made any difference? Now that you’ve captured me, you can do whatever you want.”
When he didn’t agree with or deny her comment, she decided to continue to play into his delusion. “Who are you? Maybe a war lord? Do you have any code of honor or do you believe all spoils belong to the victor?”
A strong, broad hand rested on the base of her spine. “You belong to me. That’s all you need to know.”
As if that wasn’t enough.
Her arms couldn’t have been any more useless, and she knew better than to try to get off the bed—a bed that was supposed to play a major role in the MSDB experience. Maybe to give herself something to focus on so she wouldn’t go mad, she thought back to when she’d naively believed she’d wind up having consensual sex with her Dominant. She’d grown wet thinking about how he’d guide her into submission, imagined herself kneeling at his feet with her lips around his erection while staring adoringly up at him. He might slap her face a few times or place a strip of leather around her neck. They’d call each other ‘Master’ and ‘slave’ while trying not to laugh at the words of pretend.
This was no pretend. He wouldn’t have destroyed her clothes if it had been.
“You’ll never stop dreaming of getting free,” he said from where he loomed over her. “No matter what your captor does to you, your spirit won’t let go of that faint possibility. Thoughts of freedom will keep you alive. They’ll also give me what I want to play off.”
When she’d first landed on the bed, her legs had been apart. She’d brought them as close together as she dared without drawing attention to what she was doing and had forgotten about her lower body. Awareness of that part of her returned in a rush as he eased his hand between her ass cheeks.
“What are you—?”
“Nervous, slave? You should be.”
Was she a slave or a captive? Maybe it didn’t matter.
“You came here full of yourself. You thought everything would be designed for your pleasure. Unfortunately, you failed to take me into consideration.”
“I didn’t,” she insisted as something, his thumb maybe, pressed against her anus. “I—oh please—I assumed you’d get off by—”
“But it didn’t really matter.” The pressure increased. “You put yourself first. The bitches always do.”
If that was how he saw the women who paid for what MSDB offered, why was he working for the organization? She couldn’t imagine being associated with a group that had no consideration for—
“Nowhere for you to go, is there, slave?” He punctuated his question by barely slipping his thumb into her back end. Thank goodness he’d coated his digit with her juices before forcing the semi-invasion. “Out of options.”
She’d never consented to anal sex because she hadn’t found a man she trusted to take her like that. Master was right. She had no options, nothing she could do except lie there while he explored her. She couldn’t stop tensing or trying to pull her hands free. At the same time, having that part of her invaded by this man sent her to a place defined by hues of red and black.
His thumb advanced and retreated, plundered and withdrew, each time taking her deeper into the journey. It hurt and yet it didn’t. Against all reason, she bent her knees and lifted her lower body off the bed.
“Down into my cave.” He blew a hot breath over her spine. “Down to a place of darkness and longing.”
Longing. The word expanded and became reality. Much as she hated herself for giving in so easily, she had no choice. His thumb continued to plug her rear opening. At the same time, the fingers of his other hand were on the move, slipping ever closer to her pussy.
Somewhere, the warriors of her clan were talking about what might have happened to the woman who’d fought beside them. They wouldn’t believe it if they could see her now, might have believed a witch or evil shaman had cast a spell over her to turn her into this wanton, helpless slut.
“Not ashamed of yourself?” He flicked a finger over her clit. “You should be.”
Heat roared through her and threatened to throw her into the flames he’d created. Suddenly scared, she dropped back down on the bed.
“Don’t. Oh please, don’t.”
“Too late, slave. You’re mine.”
Chapter Twelve
Shana tried to separate her legs, only to stop when the ropes now around her ankles dug into them. After demonstrating his power over her rear opening, the man who’d called her slave had left her to open the small window. Energy from the warm, electricity-filled storm circled the room and pressed against her skin. Now that he’d finished changing her restraints, he stood staring at her. She knew what lust looked like in a man’s eyes, but his expression went beyond that. There were added layers and a glimpse of something inhuman.
Despite that, she wasn’t afraid. She should’ve been. After all, she’d never been more helpless or alone.
No, not alone, because Master stood over her holding the vibrator he’d presented at the beginning of whatever this was. After tethering her ankles with soft cotton rope, he’d again tied her hands behind her. The
whole time he’d worked on her, she’d lain there trembling and excited. Probably out of her mind.
Neither of them had spoken.
He extended his hand and rested the vibrator between her breasts. Her shaking increased.
“My clan attacked yours,” he said. “A few died, others were wounded. When your chief knew his people had lost, he agreed to talk to my clan’s leaders about putting an end to the hostilities.”
Play into his fantasy, if that’s what it is. “What were they fighting about?”
“Land. Access to water.”
That made as much sense as anything in this crazy scenario. “My people had staked a claim to that land and refused to let yours use the water? Why wouldn’t they share?”
He raked his free hand through his hair and moved his gaze from her breasts to her eyes and back to her breasts.
“They insisted the lake was sacred, a gift to them from the spirits,” he said.
“Oh.” What was she supposed to say, that she understood? She didn’t and yet his explanation was as logical as anything else given—given what?
“Your chief didn’t want to anger the spirits by allowing unbelievers to spoil the water, but he no longer had a choice. He didn’t want any more warriors to die so he agreed to listen to the terms of peace. My chief made demands. They included you.”
“Me?” The vibrator was now the same temperature as her body. She could almost dismiss its presence. Almost.
“You’re the chief’s daughter. My clan’s leaders know they’ll be safe as long as you’re with them. Your father had no choice but to turn you over to us. You became our prisoner.”
“Where are the rest of your people?” Maybe logic would get through to him. She at least had to try. “Where did they take me?”