Sadistic Master Bundle (BDSM Billionaire Erotic Romance)

by Dalia Daudelin

  Cora knew that. There was nothing to worry about, but it didn't mean she didn't worry.

  "Now, we've got to go help Enoch get things ready, but we'll be around to make sure you're alright, okay darling?"

  "Thank you."

  Cora settled herself down in the bed next to the beautiful white dress. She could almost imagine her mother in it. Healthy, smiling, her eyes bright and her skin flushed with color and the excitement of the wedding going on around them.

  What was it going to be like? She didn't have any family in the area, and even if she wanted to invite them—which she didn't—there wasn't time before Harriett got bad. They couldn't afford to wait.

  Would it only be the ten of them? Or would there be other guests? What kind of people did a Devil know, anyways? He seemed like a strange Devil, to say the least, so it was always possible that in fact they hadn't done anything at all. but somehow, she doubted it.

  Cora wanted to know what she was supposed to do now. The other women, they all seemed to find ways to fill their time. They were reading from the absurdly large library, or doing needlework, or knitting, or tending the chickens.

  What was Cora going to do? What had her mother done when she was still feeling better?

  Cora laid her head back, a wave of tiredness hit her as soon as she felt the panic leaving, as if the nerves had been the only thing keeping her awake. She fought for a minute to try to keep herself awake. Long enough to move over to the room she had been staying in by herself.

  The wedding bedroom needed to be perfect. They always kept it that way, what would it look like if she fell asleep in it?

  Then, after trying to stay awake an instant longer, she decided that there wasn't much point in it. Tomorrow, everything would be busy. Crazy, even. Everything was going to happen tomorrow.

  An evening wedding, so that they would have the whole night to become husband and wife. Cora was used to morning weddings, but that wasn't something to write home about. She was just doing what she had to do, and she was willing to accept much more than have a wedding at a strange time of day to save an innocent woman's life.

  The idea of getting her mother back teased at the back of Cora's mind, but she tried to pretend that it wasn't there. This wasn't selfish. She was doing this because she needed to save Harriett's life, nothing to do with her own wishes or desires. It was the right thing to do, so she did it.

  It was that simple. She'd let herself rest, and rest as long as she liked, and in the morning, she would be getting ready for the wedding. That would be interesting. Almost fun, even, she knew. There was so much left to look forward to.

  Cora let herself drift off to sleep and hoped that her dreams weren't quite as enjoyably wicked as the last several had been.

  Thirty-Three

  They never questioned his route through the trees. Everyone there knew that Ashton wasn't going to get lost. He wasn't that kind. So when they broke into a thicket of trees and couldn't see more than a few feet in front of them for the thick bunches of pine branches coming together in a thick wall of green, they just trailed one behind the next and trusted Ashton to get them there.

  He hadn't taken this way on the way out from the house. It was a risk, he thought. Always a risk that something was hiding in there, but partly because he hadn't wanted to rely too heavily on his own sense of direction. It had never served him wrong before, and he could recall the surveyor's maps showing this little forest here just as well as anything.

  But it was the thought that this might have been the time that things went wrong for him that kept him from using the most direct path.

  Now, however, they were in a hurry, which meant that risks had to be taken. There was no other way, plain and simply. He already had a wrenching feeling in his gut that they were too late, but he'd had that feeling since the minute he left the estate. Now, the only question was whether or not something had changed since they were there.

  Ashton took a long breath and slowed his horse just long enough to confirm that his sense of location and direction lined up with the map, lined up with the few signs he could make out that might have been on the map.

  Then he kept going, as fast as he could pick through the trees without being knocked off the horse outright, until they broke through to the other side, a few hundred yards from where the mountain broke away into the basin that held the manor.

  He could already feel the cold wind whipping, could already feel the chill that the Devil brought with it wherever it went. He pulled the coat a little tighter around him, knowing that it wouldn't help him but doing it anyway.

  Then he started to pick his way down the narrow path into the basin and assumed that Hewitt and Samson would follow along behind. Not even once did he look back to check on them, and not once did they fall behind more than a few feet.

  They had worked together more times than Ashton could count, all those years ago when he was under apprenticeship with the old man, and in that time all of them had grown accustomed to working with each other. Ten years had changed a great many things, but it didn't change how they fit together.

  As they got close to the cabin, Ashton could feel himself getting light in the saddle as the wind picked up to the point where he had to hold onto the saddle to stop himself being blown over. He pulled the amulet from his bag again, held it out for the others to see, and put it on. Behind him, the other did the same thing.

  Ashton tied his horse off loosely. If something was going to go wrong, this horse had no reason to be killed because it couldn't leave, but that didn't mean that Ashton wanted it wandering all over tarnation, neither.

  Once he was sure that Sam and Hewitt were down and ready, they stepped inside. The place stank. Before there had been little more than the scent of old, musty wood. Now there were a mix of dozens of smells, fine or foul, that mixed into a horrible concoction. Ashton put a gloved hand over his nose, trying to counteract the scent with the proximity of leather. Ash took a deep breath to test it. The biggest scent he noticed, as he hoped, was oiled leather. The rest fell into the background.

  Ashton's hand dropped to his gun. There wasn't a Devil in the world created just that smell, and that meant there would be trouble. More than one in the area, something must have been going on. They didn't gather like this. In fact, they explicitly stayed away from each other.

  That meant that something unusual was going on. Something that would bring them all together, and that was exactly the situation that Ashton had hoped not to be walking into. Well, now that they were there, the damage was already done. He forced himself to focus. The first thing they needed was to find Cora. Then they needed to find the Devil that had taken her. The others could wait.

  He went down the doors, same as he had before. They were only on the right for a ways, with stairs to the left. There had been a time when they might have considered splitting up to cover more ground, but that idea had been ground out of them by King Peters before he let any of them go on a mission with him.

  Splitting up was a great way to get yourself killed, and worse, have your body used as a puppet for some sort of sick Devil's tricks. That, in turn, was a great way to get all your buddies killed. Never split up, and it never turns into a problem. You see him go down, you know not to trust him when he shows up claiming that he's totally fine. If he was fine, you'd have picked him back up before you moved on. And even then, if he wasn't fine, you'd have gone back for him once the danger seemed cleared up.

  The rooms were the way he'd left them. Cold, dark, spartan. One body per room, starting very old and getting younger. There were six doors before the one he'd found Cora in the first time, but whatever she thought was going on in this house, she was probably able to leave it. He didn't expect to see her there when he went inside, and he didn't.

  The woman's body was, though. As cold, now, as ice. He slipped his glove back on. The doors on the left side had finally started, and he couldn't wait to find a room that wasn't just like this one.

  The ro
om on the other side, the one he'd put so much hope in, disappointed him. The same as the others. Except for one major shift. No body. The room didn't look much less glum than the others, but it showed signs of recent use. This was Cora's room. This was where she'd stayed.

  He knew it with a strange certainty. On to the next pair of doors. Another bedroom, this one empty. Then another. The place could have served as a prison if you weren't worried about the risk of escapees. The rooms were about the right size, and the place had space for what must have been hundreds.

  A hallway off to the right, so he kept up with the doors. Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom. Dozens of them. He finally got to the end of the hall, Hewitt and Burke still making cursory checks of the rooms behind him. Ashton waited for them to come behind him, and tried the door at the end. The handle wouldn't turn. He lifted a heavy boot and kicked it through the door.

  The half-rotten wood gave way easier than the lock had. Another damn bedroom, but at least this one showed something a little bit different. A master, four-post bed. There was even a little window in the side, the shades drawn shut.

  Ashton thought it was odd that there were no mirrors in any of the rooms, but then he dismissed it. This was a Devil's house. Whatever they saw in their reflections, they weren't going to like it. That by itself was enough to justify not filling the place with mirrors, and unless he missed his guess, he could put visions of whatever the hell he wanted in their heads.

  He gestured with the pistol to point them back, down the side hall. Stairs leading into a basement jerked off to the left, a closed door on the right. He checked it. Not locked. He had his pistol up before the door had opened more than a fraction of an inch. Ready for whatever was going to come. Empty. He wasn't surprised any more, but that didn't mean that he could afford to relax.

  The second that he let himself relax, that was the second he would walk right into a trap.

  Thirty-Four

  Cora had never in her life been happier. Surrounded by her soon-to-be sisters, finally doing something important with her life. It had taken twenty years, but there was finally something that needed her, something that called out to her.

  That it was a man—well, that was a surprise. Aside from the political marriages that her brother always talked about, she assumed her closest companions would be storybooks and the half-felt conversation at dinner parties. But now that was all gone. She had a library for the storybooks, certainly. The size of that library was such that she would never in her entire life be able to read one tenth of those books. That didn't mean she wasn't going to make the effort at it, once she settled in.

  Still, it felt wrong that she was sitting here in her chair, her hair being brushed out and braided by the women who she would soon be married to. Was that how it worked? She wasn't sure, but she didn't think that anyone meant for her to be married to them in the same sense that she would be married to Enoch.

  Perhaps she was wrong, though. Perhaps she would be spending quality time with them as well. The thought rang a little bit strange to her, but who was she to complain? After all, they'd taken her in, and shown her so much affection. It was only natural that she should show a bit of trust.

  Delilah was humming softly behind her as the older woman brushed out her hair. A thousand brushes, and it would shine like the sun reflecting off the ocean, she said. It wasn't the first time that Cora had heard the idea. A thousand brush-strokes sounded right. The ocean comparison, though…

  "Have you seen the ocean?"

  "Where did that come from?"

  "I was just thinking about what you said."

  Delilah continued brushing. "Oh, that. Well, I suppose, to answer your question—yes. I'm from California, and I lived right by the ocean for most of my life. I came here a few years ago, but up until then, the ocean was just part of life."

  "That sounds… strange."

  "Why? Haven't you seen it?"

  "I'm from Michigan. My family has enough money, but I guess I just never thought about it."

  "No? Not even a little bit?"

  "I guess not."

  "Well, if you ask, Enoch might take you to see it. He can get around quickly if need be, you know."

  "I know."

  "It's going to be so lovely. Oh, there's so many people here. They're waiting for us. For you, Cora, and your beautiful hair, your beautiful dress. It's going to be…" She sucked in a breath. "Oh, it's going to be wonderful."

  Cora smiled sheepishly. She hoped it would be. She hadn't dreamed about marriage for a long time, but there had been a time once where it was all she thought of. Where it was all that she wanted to, all she could think of. She had thought those days were gone, but now it all seemed possible. Like she'd been given a new lease on life.

  Part of her worried about Ash. He had left on a bit of a disagreement, sure enough. But that didn't mean that he should be leaving her here entirely. She was thankful that he had, to an extent. It gave her the opportunity to save Harriett's life, after all.

  But leaving things the way that she had… she had wanted him so badly, and now he wasn't going to be a part of her life any more. He couldn't be, not any more. That didn't mean, though, that she could just turn off her thoughts. She wasn't like that, no matter how much she might try to do just that.

  Cora let out a long breath and let them continue brushing her hair out. It didn't matter. The fact was, Ashton wasn't there, and he wasn't going to be there. He wasn't coming back. The fact that he'd taken more than a week since she sent him out was enough proof of that. He was probably back in Cincinnati already, telling her brother some story. Ash didn't seem like the kind to lie.

  Maybe the story he told would be pretty much what happened. She doubted that he would tell anyone about what had happened between them. Whether that was to protect his own hide or to protect her reputation, she couldn't say. But she knew what she wanted it to be, because she didn't want to remember Ashton in a bad way.

  She didn't want to remember anything that had happened badly. If her mother was going to be alright, then the only little tinge of doubt that she had could be dealt with. That was the only thing that still hurt, maybe a little more than it should have.

  The sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall surprised her. Who would come here now? Who, wearing boots? She already knew the answer as soon as she asked the question. But that wasn't one set of footsteps.

  Cora's eyes shot wide open. "Delilah, you and the ladies need to get behind me, okay?"

  "What's wrong?"

  "Just do what I say, alright?"

  The handle on the door turned while she watched it. Then it came open, and Ashton was standing there pointing a gun right between her breasts.

  "Cora! Jesus!" He dropped the barrel of the gun until it was pointing at the floor, but he didn't holster it again. "Are you alright?"

  One of the men behind Ash asked "That's her?"

  "That's her."

  "What do we do with her? Do we take her with us, or do we leave her?"

  Ashton stared at her. "What are you wearing?"

  "Ashton, I—you need to leave. I'm sorry. I can't explain right now, but you need to put that away, and you need to leave."

  "I can't do that, Cora."

  "God damn you, Ashton, can't you just listen to me for once in your life?"

  "I'm sorry. I would if I could, but I can't, alright?"

  "Get the hell out of here! Can't you see you're scaring these women?"

  She looked over her shoulder at them, pointing with her chin. They had crowded together in a huddle, like she'd asked, and they looked every bit as scared as she thought they would. Who wouldn't be scared? A man comes around with a gun, pointing it at you, who wouldn't be afraid?

  She supposed that Ashton might not be. He seemed too stubborn for that. But about anyone else would be crying their eyes out with terror.

  "Cora—"

  The third man, the eldest of the three by a few years, spoke after a moment. "Girl, there ain't nobody
here but the four of us. You want to tell us what's going on?"

  Even if Ashton wouldn't, the third man looked over his shoulder a moment before holstering his pistol. The second, the dark-haired man who looked about Ashton's age, kept his eyes and his pistol pointed out the door.

  "There's nobody here? You're serious." She tilted her head in sarcastic disapproval. "Are you blind, or just stupid? There's seven women in this room, and three men who should not be here, now get out before I—"

  Cora closed her hand into an exaggerated fist. "I will wallop you one good."

  Ashton pulled her in close. "Cora, honey, no. There ain't."

  Whatever was around his neck, the strange wooden toggle, stung when it touched her, and then as he held her against him, it started burning hard. She pulled away, but he was stronger than her. The rest of her body was getting cold. She could feel the goosebumps rising on her arms, could feel her nipples hardening to painfully unpleasant tightness.

  God, it was so cold. She thought she'd gotten past it. She thought it had gone away. But it hadn't gone away. She'd felt it for days now. A constant chill that never went away and never got better.

  The room shrunk around her, and the cold bit into her bones and wouldn't let go, and then she was standing alone in a room with three men, and her future husband rounding the corner at the top of the steps.

  Thirty-Five

  Ashton heard the shot go off before he knew why it was happening. He let Cora go and turned hard, bringing his gun up. Sam wasn't going to shoot without a damned good reason, and though none of them were known to miss, he would be a fool to ignore whatever was happening behind them.

  Ashton heard Cora fall back into her chair behind him, heard the legs scrape against the wooden floor, but he wasn't paying attention to her any more. Whatever Samson had shot at, it hadn't done anything to the man walking toward them.

  Ash didn't recognize him at first. He seemed quiet and gentle-mannered. He looked every bit like any normal man might, and that made it that much worse when Ashton finally realized who he was looking at. Hewitt spoke first.