Capture Me (Royals Saga: Smith and Belle Book 3)

by Geneva Lee

  He might not be punishing me, but he wasn’t rewarding me either—and I loved it.

  Dropping his hold on my face, his palm circled round to the small of my back. It only took a light touch to show me what he wanted. I folded over, blood rushing to my head as he urged me lower. When my fingers brushed the floor, he patted me in approval.

  “You look so gorgeous with your ass in the air,” he bent to whisper in my ear. “Put your palms flat on the floor, Belle. It will make it easier.”

  A tiny spark of conscious thought fired in my brain. What easier? But my body overrode it, complying instantly with his request. I slowly stretched until I was folded in half, both hands and feet on the Persian rug. He dropped to his knees and grabbed the rope tail at each of my wrists. The room was beginning to blur from the blood surging directly to my brain. I closed my eyes, searching for my center. Smith guided my legs wider.

  “Part of me wants to keep you tied up all the time.” A rope tightened around my ankle, pinning my wrist to my leg. Again on the other side. “That’s a desire we share, isn’t it? You want to be kept on display—available for my use. There’s no need to deny it.”

  He stood and stroked a finger down my seam, gathering all the proof he needed that he was right on his fingertip. I groaned, overwhelmed by the blood surging to separate ends of my body. Sensation crowded the nerves, growing from a faint pulse to steady drumming.

  The pressure of his hand disappeared. Metal clanged against the hearth’s marble façade, and I stilled as the sharp end of a fireplace poker glided through the space between my knees. Smith tipped my chin up as far as my unnatural position would allow. He bent so that we were face to face as he stoked the dying fire behind me. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

  I’d begun to tremble, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. The muscles straining to maintain my pose were partially responsible, the rest of the blame fell on me. Despite how easily I’d followed his instructions, holding still was proving harder and harder. But I had no other option. Not while there was a hot metal rod poking between my legs. Falling seemed like a pretty bad idea. The heat spreading over my backside reinforced my theory. I was rapidly growing hotter even as my limbs quivered from the stress of the bondage.

  “Warm enough, beautiful?” His eyes pierced through mine. Smith wasn’t challenging me, he was doing his part.

  “Yes, Sir.” I licked my lower lip, trying to wet my dry mouth.

  “You’re fighting it.” He caressed my cheek. “Give in. I’m right here.”

  A reminder was all I needed. He was with me, which meant I was safe. Whatever fear I clung to was the result of a lifetime of self-preservation. My savior. My master. My partner. He was with me now, guiding me at my own pace to the quiet space I sought inside myself. Consciously accepting his presence meant embracing my burning muscles and trembling legs. Pain became my safety net, and when I let it consume me, it overtook me.

  I was flesh quivering at his touch.

  I was blood roaring under his palm.

  I existed in the world he had created for me, and there I was free.

  He moved to stand behind me, and my focus shifted along with him, my emotions massing around its axis. He was my certainty. Each of my breaths was nothing more than a revolution around him. A hand stroked the curve of my ass, dispersing the heat that had accumulated from the nearby flame. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the circular motion of his palm, already prepared as it paused before delivering a gentle smack. My heart began to beat with his hands as he spanked me in an alternating rhythm on both sides of my rear.

  But this time, unlike the others, he didn’t stop to rub away the angry heat from his assault. Instead he continued until I began to count my breaths.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  When he finally paused, my cheeks stung and I was breathing rapidly.

  “Better,” he said.

  I exhaled heavily, but he wasn’t going to allow me to slip from the moment he had so expertly orchestrated. His hand slid lower, fondling my wet sex.

  “Your cunt is so swollen, beautiful. I think it’s jealous.” He massaged me as he spoke, keeping his touch featherlight to prevent my climax. “This isn’t about your pleasure. Not this time. You’ve felt ignored, so I’m going to pay attention—and I’m going to leave each inch of your body without any doubt that it’s mine.”

  A sob of gratitude broke past my lips, and I swallowed it back, but not quickly enough.

  He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “None of that. I’m taking care of you. I have always taken care of you, and I always will. You need a reminder of that, beautiful.”

  His palm smacked my sensitive mound, and my mouth flew open in a soundless gasp.

  “This is precious to me.” He slapped it again. This time the force of it vibrated through my core. “Who owns this?”

  “You do,” I gasped.

  He grabbed my hair and pressed his cheek to mine. “Who owns you?”

  I struggled for words, barely managing to squeak, “You.”

  “I want you to think about that for a while.” And then he was gone.

  Seconds crawled by or maybe hours. Heat scorched my body, and I no longer knew if it was from the fire blazing behind me or from his attention to my bottom.

  Or maybe it was just from him.

  Maybe I was on fire because he wanted me to be. My brain began to process more details of my situation: the ache in my wrist, the strained feeling in my foot, the flicker of shadows around me. Slowly the world outside of us came into focus. Maintaining my position was becoming harder, but if I’d made it through his spanking, I could stay still a little longer.

  I concentrated on my breathing, counting out each inhale and exhale. He had a point to prove, but I did as well.

  I could handle anything he threw at me, and he needed to know that.

  I had no idea how much time passed before he returned to the room. Droplets of water ran down his muscular calves, dripping to the floor. I drank in the sight, knowing that if I could find the strength to lift my head, I’d be treated to much more where that came from.

  “I needed to shower,” he explained, not sounding remotely apologetic for leaving me like this while he groomed himself. Smith squatted and kissed me softly, revealing more of his delicious body as he untied my left leg. Carefully taking my hand, he reached between my legs and hooked his arm under my leg. “Hold on.”

  It took more effort than I cared to admit to wrap my freed arm around his neck. With my other leg and arm still bound, he lifted me with a grunt, keeping my leg pinned to his waist. With a sure stride, he carried me the few steps to the wall. Lowering me on my one bound foot, he braced me gently to the wall, and hoisted my other leg higher.

  He stroked my hair back with his left hand, encouraging my face to tilt up to him.

  “Your eyes are still wild,” he rasped, his own eyes hooding as he rocked his groin against my spread sex. “That’s how I know that I’ll never tame you. Your body is still restrained, but you’re free.”

  I groaned as the tip of his cock pushed past my swollen seam, but he didn’t enter me.

  “I’m about to show you the value of patience,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’m going to make you come so hard, beautiful, that you’re going to understand why I kept you tied up. Because your legs and arms—they’re going to be useless to you. I’m going to fuck your self-control right out of your tight little body, and then I’m going to fuck every thought from your pretty little head.”

  “Please,” I begged.

  “Shh,” he hushed me, continuing to pet my head. “Be quiet so that I know you understand who’s in charge.”

  I pressed my lips into a line, trying to barricade my whimpers and pleas. But even with my mouth clamped shut, tiny, desperate pants racked my body until I was heaving with my need for him. I’d finally learned the importance of shutting up.

  “That’s my good girl. I know it’s hard,
but you’re doing so well.” He reached to my bound breasts and brushed his thumb over my nipple.

  I cried out in a strangled voice, pain and pleasure bursting through me.

  “Fuck, beautiful. I want you so badly, but I need more of that.”

  I seriously considered stopping him, but before I could decide, he’d squatted to the ground, and his hand kept my free leg pinned to the wall as he caught my nipple in his teeth. I didn’t even try to hold back my yelps as he sucked its furl deep in his mouth. Between the rope constricting them and the relentless, hungry heat of his mouth, pain pounded through my breasts, quickly shifting into violent pleasure.

  His name spilled from my mouth. Probably because it was the only word I could remember at the moment.

  “You make it so fucking hard to concentrate,” he growled, rising back to his feet. He gripped my chin hard. “There’s not enough of me. I want to taste all of you at once. Fill all of you. I’ll just have to settle for my favorite sweet piece of you.”

  He shifted, wedging his cock at my entrance. His mouth slanted over mine, and his lips smashed into mine as he thrust so forcefully that weightlessness flipped my stomach over. If he noticed that neither of my feet were on the floor now, then he didn’t care.

  “Is that what you needed?” he coaxed as he rolled his hips in slow, deep strokes against me.

  I could only groan, too lost to the fullness that had overtaken me.

  “This is what I need,” he moaned. “To be in your pussy. To feel it milking me. I want to feed you my cock every day, because I know you starve for it when I don’t. I need to see your pussy dripping with me.”

  I did need it. I needed him so much that it was physically painful to be without him.

  “Oh God, beautiful.” His forehead pressed against mine as he continued to drive tirelessly inside me. “I want to feel you come.”

  It was all the prompting I needed. The first spasm hit low, a dull explosion rippling rapidly through my core. My muscles tensed in anticipation, and then my climax took over. Pleasure contracted every piece of me before shattering me to dust. I went limp even as small tremors continued to roll through me. Smith caught my sagging body, still hammering himself toward his own release.

  A rumbling noise in his chest built into a howl as he unleashed himself deep within me, but he didn’t stop. I could feel him spilling from me as he kept pounding me to another orgasm. This one stole my ability to see. All I could do was hold on.

  “Need you so much, beautiful,” he murmured between pants. “Need to fuck you. Need to feel you. Need you.”

  A fat drop of water rolled down my cheek, his words giving me strength enough to press closer to him. My arm tightened around his neck, and even though he was the one fucking me, I was the one holding him up. The world had tried to break us, but we’d discovered how to survive in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 13

  I rubbed Belle’s rope burns with oil until I was satisfied that I’d seen to the minimal injuries I’d inflicted. She remained silent, watching me without comment. I’d taken her into subspace. It was what she had wanted—she’d needed to be freed from her own thoughts—but now I had to see that she returned back to the chaos of reality as gently as possible.

  “Are you satisfied?” she whispered.

  My forehead wrinkled as I capped the bottle. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “You wanted to punish me for disobeying you.”

  “Is that what you think this was about?” I asked her.

  “You’re always saying I need a spanking. This time I did something dangerous. I can see it in your face, you wish you didn’t have to put up with me anymore.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and I heard tears forming in the fissures.

  “This isn’t about the danger, beautiful.” I dropped my hand from her face and stepped away. “It’s about how things have changed. I wish I could take back what happened to you—all of it. If I could give my own life to ensure you never met me and that you never suffered through what you did, I would in a second.”

  “How can you say that?” she asked in a breathless voice, but it was clear she didn’t want an answer. Her mouth twisted, her teeth finally sinking in to her lower lip to contain whatever other thoughts she had on the subject.

  There was no use tiptoeing around the facts though. “Because it’s the truth. If you hadn’t met me, you would be focused on Bless and spending time with your goddaughter instead of hiding. You probably would have found someone else by now.”

  “I’d probably be working as a secretary somewhere and eating a tub of ice cream every night,” she shot back. Her arms curled around her torso and she hugged herself tightly, as if she could actually feel the loneliness.

  Goddammit, Price. Why can’t you ever say the right thing? The fact that I was so terrible at comforting her should be a sign that I was right, but I didn’t mention that. “What I meant was that I know something has changed between us. I feel it. I don’t know if you hate me or if you’re scared of me. Or if you finally realized you made a mistake. After what I did to Jake, you’ve seen a side of me I wanted to leave behind, but we both know I never really will. You’re pushing me to be harder with you. Rougher. You’re seeking punishment, Belle, and you haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

  “I thought you liked it.”

  “I do, beautiful. But you aren’t my slave, you’re my wife.”

  “You’re right,” she said softly, her chin beginning to quiver, “I am scared of you.”

  She could have stuck a knife through my chest and it would have been less painful than her confession. I’d known it was the case, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Belle was a strong woman—the strongest I’d ever known—and I’d stupidly believed she could handle this life and my lies. But there was a difference between being headstrong and being dumb. Trusting me would have been the latter. At least she finally saw that.

  I bit down on the words of reassurance that wanted to escape. It would be too little too late—and besides that, could I even make good on whatever promises I made?

  “But not for the reason you think,” she continued. This time she spoke boldly, without a trace of the fear she claimed to feel. “You think that I don’t know who you are, but I know you better than anyone. Because I know who you were and who you are now. I’ve seen the real you, Smith Price, and you can’t fool me. You aren’t the villain you fancy yourself to be. You are a good man who has faced impossible decisions.”

  “You saw me kill a man.” I didn’t want her to absolve me. Not anymore.

  “I saw you save me,” she whispered.

  I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her. “Then why are you scared?”

  “Because I’ve never given anyone this much of myself. One word and you’ll break me. Without you, I don’t know who I am.”

  “That doesn’t make you weak,” I told her, drawing her body to mine. “It makes you strong. I know because my love for you makes me invincible.”

  “You can still bleed, Price.” She laid her palm on my chest, directly over my heart.

  “But thanks to you, I’ve experienced paradise. Death can’t take that away.”

  Her eyes closed, her lashes fluttering against tears. “I’m sorry. I just need a minute.”

  She rushed to the loo before I could stop her.

  A vibration from my coat pocket kept me from following her. Right now, the last thing I needed was for her to find out that I’d been keeping a burner mobile with me. But I couldn’t ignore that it was finally ringing. One person had the number. The only person I trusted Hammond didn’t know about. Or Alexander. Or even Georgia. His instructions were to call me in the case of one of three events.

  I barely caught it before it went to the voicemail box that I hadn’t bothered to set up.

  “Smith?”

  I’d never been so glad to hear my lawyer’s voice in my life. It should have given me pause about my profession to feel that way, come to think
of it.

  “Andrew, I assume you aren’t calling because you miss me.” I cupped the phone to my ear, swiveling around to check that the bathroom door was still shut. Until I knew exactly why he had called, I didn’t want Belle to find out. I imagined him sitting in his lofty office looking out over London and the life I missed.

  “Georgia woke up.”

  I released the breath I was holding. It wasn’t the news I’d been hoping to hear, but it definitely fell into the good news category. “I didn’t think she would.”

  “No one did, but haven’t you always told me not to underestimate her?” Andrew reminded me.

  It was a dangerous thing to turn your back on Georgia, and even more dangerous to discount her entirely. I should have known better. Now that she was awake, she’d be able to corroborate the events of that night, but she couldn’t provide me with an alibi. Things were progressing rapidly. First I’d been named as a primary suspect in a false press release, now Georgia had pulled through.

  “There’s more.” Andrew paused, as if to wait for my full attention.

  “Go on,” I prompted.

  “Hammond has been indicted. They dragged him to…”

  But I couldn’t hear the rest of the particulars, I was still caught on the first detail. Indicted. Arrested.

  “Because of Georgia?” I asked when I’d finally processed his revelation.

  “I’m trying to find out now, but I’ve checked with a few people. It’s safe for you to return to London.”

  “My name was in the papers this morning,” I told him in a flat voice.

  “Yes, you’ve been publicly cleared in the death of Jake Stanton.”

  “I had no idea I’d been publicly accused.”

  “Smith,” Andrew said, sighing into the receiver, “you were very particular in your parameters regarding how and why I should contact you. I followed those instructions.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and nodded. I was taking out my confusion on him. “You’re right. Thank you for letting me know.”