Taken: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 1)

by Felicity Brandon

  She sighed, the sound stilted by her obvious apprehension. She was scared, he knew that, but he sensed she was also aroused by her predicament. He’d need her fear until she was better trained. Being afraid made her more compliant – more likely to do what he asked of her – and he was more than prepared to use her fear to his advantage. Beyond that though, with some time, he hoped that the fear would dissolve into more of that sexual tension, the type he’d seen in her eyes when he’d threatened her with the spanking. He could use the arousal too, and he knew they’d both enjoy that better.

  “Molly.” His tone was deliberately abrupt, and he liked the way it captured her attention.

  She raised her head to look at him, her eyes full of nervous energy. “Yes, S-Sir,” she mumbled, still falling over that final word.

  “Do you think you’ll enjoy it?” His question was intentionally direct. He wanted to see her squirm, and her response did not disappoint.

  She fidgeted against the bed covers, her face flushing as she paused to consider his words. “I don’t know, Sir” she conceded, her gaze fixed to the bondage at her wrists instead of his face.

  “Look at me,” he commanded, and something about his tone made her obey without complaint.

  He watched her gulp at the order, her gaze genuinely frightened. Some part of his brain realized that he should have empathy for her. She’d been drugged, taken without consent, and was now bound in a strange place with a guy she’d never met before. As he took in her large puppy eyes, and her pale expression, though, all he could think about was his raging erection, and what he was going to do to her. Yes, he was going to use that fear, he was going to make her obey him, but he was going to love every moment of the experience.

  Christ, he was one sick fuck.

  “How do the ropes at your wrists make you feel?” he probed, wanting to push the point, and get her to talk about how she was doing. It would make him seem more caring than he really was, and perhaps it would lure Molly into some sort of false trust. Either way, he knew that listening to her relating her feelings about the subject was going to make him even harder – if such a thing were possible.

  “They make me scared,” she admitted in barely a whisper.

  Connor crouched down in front of her, resting one knee on the threadbare carpet below. “Scared?” he repeated, ignoring the fact that she’d overlooked his title for the time being. He was having too much fun with the line of questioning to correct her right now, but he would – the next time she messed up. “Why does it frighten you? I’ve already told you I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to.”

  Molly swallowed deeply, her breath coming out in short pants as she answered him. “But, I don’t know you,” she replied. “You might be lying to me. You might want to do anything to me… Sir.” She added the final word just in time to save herself, and this time he couldn’t help but smile at her.

  “That’s true,” he told her, keeping his tone intentionally hard. “You don’t know me, so you’re just going to have to take my words at face value, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, her gaze still wide with obvious trepidation at the verdict.

  “Do you normally like to be bound?” he asked her directly. “When you’re not being taken against your will, I mean?”

  Connor snorted at the sound of his own joke, but she didn’t return his smile.

  “Sometimes,” she mumbled, her cheeks blushing ever so slightly at the admission. “In the bedroom, but not like this!” Her voice crescendoed as she spoke, but then fell away into a protracted silence. “Please,” she implored him, raising her blue eyes to meet his own intense stare. “Please, Sir, don’t hurt me.”

  Connor watched her with aroused fascination. Molly Clary was just too damn perfect. And she was all his for the taking.

  Chapter Nine

  “Do you need more water, or do you feel well enough to make a start?” He fired the question at her matter-of-factly, as though he always took women from the streets and squirreled them off for his own personal amusement.

  Maybe he did.

  The thought made the bile in Molly’s belly bubble, threatening to rise north. She was panting so hard she could barely catch her breath. In the panic of the abduction, she’d forgotten all about her asthma, but right now the condition hit her in the face. Molly had no clue how long she’d been here, but she knew she’d need medication, and soon. She blinked up at him for a moment, trying to get a handle on her breathing.

  “Make a start on what, Sir?” she murmured, her tone no doubt expressing her desperation.

  Connor smirked in her direction. “Make a start on your new story,” he answered her with a wry smile. “Rule two, Molly. I assume you remember?”

  She lifted her bound wrists a few inches from her lap as his words registered in her aching brain. “Yes,” she whispered, her expression crumbling slightly. “Yes, I remember… Sir.”

  She added the final word just in time, noting how his face relaxed as soon as he heard it. Evidently, this guy got off on hearing her call him Sir. The thought resonated, sickening and exciting her in equal measure. She swallowed at the insight. Who’s the sick one now, she taunted herself at her own twisted response to the situation.

  “Good,” he replied, rising from his place by her, and marching toward the wooden dresser. He pulled the middle drawer open and reached inside. Molly jolted at the sound of metal, her heart thumping even faster at what Connor’s large palm produced from the dresser drawer.

  “What is that?” she inquired as he brought the long metal chain into full view.

  Connor’s eyes narrowed at her question. “What was that, Molly?”

  She gulped, acknowledging her error in an instant. “What is that, Sir?” She corrected herself, emphasizing the title as best she could as fear began to close up her throat.

  Connor shook his head as he moved toward her. “Better,” he told her, “but not good enough. You were warned what would happen if you forgot to address me correctly.”

  Molly was actually shaking by the time his body reached her. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she pleaded, hearing the tremble in her voice.

  She knew he heard it too, the thought making her wretched. How had she become such a quivering mess? She had always considered herself to be such a strong, independent woman, yet all it took to reduce her to this state was one man with a plan and his malevolent ingenuity.

  Connor ducked down at her feet again, his agility taking her by surprise. For such a big man, he moved with shocking speed. She eyed the metal in his hands with renewed agitation. The implement was indeed a long chain, but it had a cuff at either end. Molly’s stomach sank at the look of the thing, and she watched miserably as Connor clicked first one, and then the second cuff open in front of her.

  “These are to contain you,” he told her, his tone low and steely.

  Molly’s eyes flittered higher for a moment, locking gazes with him for the briefest interlude. What she saw there made her catch her breath. Connor’s gaze was dark and intense. She found neither warmth, nor cold there, just an odd detachment as he lunged for her left ankle.

  Acting out of instinct, Molly tried to kick him away, adrenaline rising in her as the panic registered. “Please!” She was screeching, trying to get to her feet.

  Connor yanked her feet from under her, sending her crashing back to the bed behind her. Molly’s body, still full of whatever toxins he had exposed her to, toppled with ease, and for a long moment she couldn’t regain her composure. Her head spun, all of her senses screaming at her to move, to run, to get away even as she felt the metal encircling her sock.

  “That’s enough!” he barked, snapping the metal bracelet shut around her left ankle. “You will behave, Molly, or you will find yourself gagged and bound to this bed for the rest of today. If you’re not ready to start writing yet, then I am prepared to accept the delay.”

  Her eyes widened like saucers, her heart pounding relentlessly inside her chest. “No,” she
gasped. “No, Sir, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”

  Connor paused, greeting her frightened expression with a hard stare. “Oh, you better had, young lady,” he warned her as his attention turned to her right foot. “You’re mine now, Molly Clary, and the sooner you get used to your new arrangement, the easier you will find it.”

  As the second cuff clicked shut, her heart sank. She watched as he untied the rope that had bound her ankles before. Tossing it aside, he played with the length of metal chain now uniting her feet, drawing the length together. Though he’d allowed her a bit more freedom of movement, there was still only about twelve inches remaining between her feet. He was right, he really did have her now. Not only was she drugged and bound, but she was now in chains, literally unable to run from him. Tears pricked in her eyes, but she fought for some freaking composure. She couldn’t let him see what this was doing to her. She wouldn’t let him win.

  “Right,” he told her, his voice stern. “That will help to keep you in your place once we begin this new story, but first…” He rose, once again towering over her. “First, we deal with your insubordination, Molly.”

  She lifted her head to look at him, and for the first time she really looked. She had caught glimpses of the man before. The fan who met her at the end of the signing, the man who she thought had come to rescue her on the street, but she realized she had never really seen him until this moment. Connor was undeniably handsome. Tall, dark and smoldering with an unusual intensity, he was the kind of guy who’d have caught a girl’s eye, but there was more than that. Much more than that, and it was only now that Molly registered what she’d instinctively already garnered.

  Connor was dangerous.

  Smart, organized, articulate and charming, Connor was a well-oiled predator, and it was her misfortune to have landed right in his trap.

  He lunged for her bound wrists, tugging them north. “Up,” he commanded, unceremoniously.

  On shaky legs she obeyed, willing her thighs to carry her weight, and her belly to keep the rising nausea at bay as she stood next to him.

  “How have you been asked to address me, Molly?” he asked, his tone clipped as he glared down at her.

  She gulped, the look in his eyes threatening to overwhelm her. “Sir,” she replied, though her voice was barely audible. “You asked me to call you Sir.”

  Connor nodded. “Correct,” he continued. “And yet twice already you have failed in this endeavour. Is it really such a difficult task for you?”

  She blinked at him, the sound of her heart hammering, drowning out everything except Connor’s voice. She wanted to argue. Twice – had it really been twice that she’d forgotten? But the instinct to save herself kept her mouth sealed. Now was not the time for some sarcastic reply. Now was not the time to anger the beast.

  “No, Sir,” she mumbled, aware that her face flamed as she gave her answer. “It is not so difficult.”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m glad you agree,” he told her. “Now tell me, can you recall what I promised you if you failed me again?”

  Molly’s throat dried in an instant. She could very well remember his words, they were burned forever into her psyche. He had threatened to spank her bare ass.

  “Yes, Sir,” she squeaked by means of reply.

  Connor jerked on the ropes at her wrists, drawing her forward toward him. The metal at her legs clinked as she stumbled against his hard body, the sound and his sudden proximity drawing a gasp from her mouth as she eyed him. He was now right next to her, tall, imposing, and totally in control. Fighting to catch her breath, she tried to take stock, to see through the cloud of fear in her mind. But as she drew in a deep breath, the only other emotion she was aware of was her own stark arousal at his treatment. She hated the fact, but it was true. Every time he took away her liberty, she got a little hotter, and her pussy got a little wetter. She clenched the muscles between her legs at the idea, ashamed of her own reckless response to his dominance.

  “And?” His curt reply shook her from her internal monologue with frightening ease. “What did I tell you would be the consequence if you failed to address me in the correct manner?”

  Molly stilled, her breath coming out in short, frantic bursts. “You told me that you would spank me, Sir,” she whispered, her face burning a deeper crimson at the admission.

  Connor tightened his grip on her bondage, leaning even closer to her reddening face. “That’s right, little lady,” he replied, coolly. “I did promise you a spanking, and now I get to deliver one.”

  Chapter Ten

  The look on Molly’s face was priceless. She was blushing so deeply that he could practically feel her embarrassment as he leant over her. Connor inhaled, taking a moment to capture that look. Everything she did and said, each and all of her natural reactions were doing nothing to quell his rising arousal, but he knew he needed to get a handle on it. Now was not the time for that. There would be a time, and he knew it was coming soon, but it wasn’t now.

  “Time to deliver, Molly,” he said again, ensuring his cool eyes penetrated her for just long enough. Just until she flinched, and he saw her physically try to withdraw from him. Just until he was sure he had all of her attention… Connor released her wrists. “Undo your trousers,” he commanded, the timbre of his voice softer than before.

  Her blush deepened as she blinked up at him with wide eyes. He could see the questions in them, the flat refusal to comply, the abject fury, but wisely the protests did not reach her sweet lips.

  “Molly…” His tone had taken on a rather taunting quality, and he smiled as she jumped, understanding the meaning reflexively. “Don’t keep me waiting, little girl,” he told her. “Waiting makes me angry, and you won’t like me when I’m angry.”

  Her hands reached for the button at her waistband, fiddling with it as best she could in the bondage. He stood watching her expression, and he could see the internal fight. Her natural temperament wanted to punch him in the nuts, but her self-preservation instincts had kicked in, and were overriding everything else. Molly wanted to stay alive, and right now she knew that meant playing his little game. His eyes darted south to find the button now undone, and slowly she edged the zipper downwards.

  “Good girl, Molly,” he murmured over her. “Now, hold still and let me help you with those.”

  In an instant, his two large hands were at her hips, and roughly he tugged the fabric down, exposing her pert behind to the cool air of the room. He was smiling as he jerked them a little further, so that the material collected at the middle of her shapely thighs.

  “Better,” he breathed from beside her, “but not good enough.”

  In one smooth action, he swooped again, collecting the silky material of her panties at the side of her hips and pulling them down her body. Molly gasped as the fabric moved, her face flaming as he left them intentionally pooling with her pants. He knew the act would humiliate her further. He was counting on it…

  Connor reached for her bound wrists once again, noting her shaky intake of breath as he took physical control of her body. There was a lengthy pause when all he could do was hold her in place, taking in the scent of her hair and the look of her creamy, flawless skin. Christ, she was too much, so fucking beautiful. His eyes flitted down the length of her body, over the swell of her breasts and landed on the material bunched up at the top of her legs. The flesh there was pale and stunning, and he wondered how much effort it would take to turn the color into a warmer shade of pink, or maybe red. It was time to find out…

  “I’m going to spank you, Molly.”

  There was really no need for the repetition. They both knew why he had yanked her trousers down, and what was going to happen next, and Connor knew it. The truth was that saying it out loud again gave him a thrill which connected directly to his throbbing cock, and frankly, he just couldn’t help himself.

  Molly responded with those large, fearful eyes, which were practically brimming with tears as she finally raised her head to meet his
insistent gaze.

  “Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded, her voice faltering as he pulled the ropes at her wrists even tighter.

  He smiled. She begged so beautifully that there was really no need to make her practice the art, and yet somehow, he knew that he would.

  “I’m not going to cause you any real harm, Molly,” he replied, aiming to reassure her on this one point at least. “But I am going to punish you for your transgression, and it is going to hurt. There’s no point of a spanking which doesn’t inflict some pain is there?” He chuckled at his own question. “How is that going to help you to correct your behavior?”

  She bit her lip in response, shaking her head as though she had no reply for those questions. Connor narrowed his eyes. He knew she was afraid, but that was no excuse for not answering him.

  “Molly,” he snapped. “I asked you a question. Two, in fact.”

  The sound of his stern tone made her jolt. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t hear the questions.”

  Poor little girl, he thought wryly. She’s so stressed that she’s really not listening. Now, that was going to have to change.

  “You must pay attention to me, Molly,” he admonished her. “Whatever else happens, you will listen to my voice and take heed of my words. Do you understand?”

  Now she was nodding. Apparently, she’d been paying attention on that occasion. “Yes, Sir,” she answered, breathlessly.

  “Good,” Connor replied. “I asked how a spanking which did not hurt was going to help correct your behavior?” He paused, watching as his words rung through her pretty little head.

  Her lips parted and her eyes darted to his nervously. “I suppose it won’t, Sir?” she said at length. Her voice came out in a long sigh, and Connor wondered if there was an air of resignation in the sound. Had Molly finally accepted this spanking, or, as was more likely, was she still going to put up a fight?

  “That’s right,” he replied, “it won’t.”