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

by Felicity Brandon

  Connor chuckled darkly, noting the emphasis placed on the final word, but choosing to overlook it. For now. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  He stroked the side of her face as he spoke. Molly shuddered lightly at his touch, but the chain at her neck meant she couldn’t retreat from him.

  “No,” she panted. “It isn’t obvious to me. Please, just let me go. I don’t know who you are or where we are, and I swear I won’t go to the police.”

  The hand at her face slipped down as he took his time, intentionally torturing her further as he inched his fingers to her chin, before dipping them to the collar at her neck. Slowly, deliberately, his digits tightened at the leather and he heard the satisfying gasp which escaped her lips. “There’s no going back now, Molly,” he told her ominously. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for months.”

  He released the chain at her D-ring with his free hand while the other held Molly’s collar in place. She raised her eyes nervously at the action, trembling as he reattached her to the leash still hanging from the coat peg above her.

  “B-but, please,” she stammered again, her eyes filling with fresh tears.

  He took a moment to gaze into them, seeing a host of emotions flashing back at him. It was obvious that she was scared, terrified even, and she had good reason to be. Molly didn’t have a clue how long he’d been planning this, or any of the depraved acts he intended for her, but the last few hours had probably given her a taste of what was to come. Her eyes also offered confusion and exhaustion. The drugs he’d given her were probably just leaving her system and she must be seriously dehydrated by now. He’d have to make her drink something, even if the food would take some more persuasion. And then below all of those other emotions there was her lingering arousal. It might not be the dominant sensation at this moment, but it was certainly there. Connor had seen the moisture pooling between her legs after her spanking and how Molly had responded to his gags and bondage. Whatever she told him, her body was enjoying the way he denigrated it. Of that he was certain.

  “It’s alright, Molly,” he purred, intentionally softening his tone as he propped her chin up with the hand which had just leashed her. “I know you’re scared right now, but all you have to do is obey me. Remember the rules?”

  She nodded, her tits bobbing beautifully beneath her at the ferociousness of the motion. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered in a barely audible tone.

  Fuck. It’s as though he was temporarily mesmerized by the look of his tear-stricken captive. How many times had he fantasized about this? About having her here, chained and compliant? And now that things were finally coming to fruition, he couldn’t quite believe his luck. Except this wasn’t luck, this was careful planning and precision.

  “All you need to do is remember the rules.” Connor’s voice was harder now, more insistent. He stared at her frightened little face as he spoke, wanting her to understand. “Obey me, and write for me, and you will be fine.”

  He released her chin, watching her responses carefully as she drew back an inch or two. “Okay,” she sobbed. “I’ll write for you. I’ll do what you say, but, I don’t understand. Why me? Why have you chosen me, Sir?”

  He could tell she was still forcing the word from her delicious lips, but it didn’t matter. She was addressing him correctly, and she was obeying. And that made him happier than he’d maybe ever been before.

  “I chose you because I love your work,” he replied. “Because this is our story, and I need someone to write it for me. And there is no one better than you, Molly.”

  As she blinked up at him, he hoped his words were beginning to register.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  That was the moment Molly began to understand. Up until then she had known she was in trouble – big trouble – and she had an idea that Connor had been conjuring this plan for a while, but this was the instance which crystallised it in her mind. This guy was like her super-stalker. He had apparently read and devoured every one of her words, convincing himself that since Molly was the author, she must want this, she must desire to be treated this way.

  Time stood still as she processed the realization. He thought she’d relish this treatment, and so he’d concocted the whole damn thing. This house, with the upstairs kitchen, the cameras, the equipment, it was all part of his plan. And those guys who’d attacked her after the signing, had they been part of his plan too? She doubted it. Most likely their attack had forced his hand, compelling him to take her. She shuddered at the idea, a deed which made the face in front of her soften.

  “Are you cold?” Connor asked, his voice offering genuine concern.

  Molly blinked at him again, her head fit to burst with all the competing concepts and emotional responses. “A little, Sir,” she whispered, watching his face as she answered.

  It was a partial untruth. She had felt quite snug being this close to the radiator, but ever since he’d chained her to the damn floor her limbs had become cold again, as though the shock had resonated to her extremities. Either way, she much preferred this more caring side of Connor, and knew she had to exploit it if she wanted to survive until she could escape.

  “I’ll turn up the heat,” he told her, rising from his crouch and striding purposefully away in the direction of the door again. On the wall by the exit was a small thermostat, which he nudged upwards. “That should help,” he continued as he paced back to the table beside her.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she replied, feeling utterly ridiculous for thanking the man who had captured her against her will.

  Connor sat at the chair nearest the door, smiling as he started up the laptop. “You’re welcome, little one,” he cooed. “Now, I need you to get that water into you, and eat something while you do. You’ll feel better.”

  Molly’s eyes flitted to him. Feel better? Was he serious? He expected her to degrade herself further by eating from a bowl on the floor, like a fucking dog, and somehow, that was supposed to make her feel better? She wondered how much of her fury shone in her eyes as she caught the small smirk which lit his face. Fucking bastard, she mused, watching him as he turned his attention to the story she’d been forced to pen. He must realize how she felt about this. How could anyone want to be treated this way? But even as she thought it, she remembered the plotline from her 2017 release, Captured. In the book, her heroine, Sandra, had been abducted by aliens and forced to live as a human pet, and she recalled the exact point in the book where they’d compelled her to eat from dishes on the floor. Molly also remembered how shamefully wet writing that chapter had made her. She felt the color drain from her face as the awareness dawned on her. Connor was emulating a scene from one of her own books, and now she was going to have to live it – she was Sandra.

  A long sigh interrupted her internal monologue and she turned to see Connor watching her, a sardonic smile decorating his face.

  “Are you thinking about Sandra?” he asked, his right eyebrow arching over those dazzling green eyes as he posed the question.

  Molly heard the gasp leave her lips, although she had not commanded it. His query left her dumfounded. How the fuck could he have known that? “Ye-yes, I was,” she responded, the shock evident from her tone.

  “I thought so,” he quipped, taking a slug of his drink. “The analogy wasn’t lost on me, and fuck, I loved those scenes, didn’t you?”

  He looked at her intently this time, his eyes penetrating her nudity.

  “I…” Molly hesitated, uncertain how to reply. What could she say? She had been turned on when she’d written those words, an awful lot as she recalled, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be chained here and forced to re-enact them. Connor had no right to do this. Gazing into his unwavering stare, she knew she’d have to be honest. He’d sense she was lying about this, which would no doubt initiate some terrible punishment as a consequence.

  “I enjoyed writing it, yes, Sir,” she conceded with her own small sigh.

  “I guessed you did,” he replied, his eyes sparkling as he watched her
conflict on the subject. “Your writing oozes arousal, Molly.”

  She lowered her gaze, aware that her face was flaming with embarrassment at his words. It was hard enough to receive a compliment usually, but naked and chained like this, it was practically impossible.

  “Don’t be ashamed,” he ordered her. “I love that you enjoyed those things.” Connor put down the mug as he spoke, and the sound of it hitting the wood captured her attention. “Before I read your work, I’d assumed I was the only one who’d be into this kind of thing, but talking to you helped me to realize otherwise.”

  Molly gulped at that. “Talking to me?” she repeated. “When did we talk, Sir?”

  He grinned at her again, his expression faltering just slightly as though he hadn’t intended to divulge so much information. “Online,” he told her. “I’ve been following your social media for some time, and I’ve been a part of your reader group for months now.”

  She was panting again before he’d concluded. Part of her readers group? Holy fuck! That meant she’d already let this guy into her life in some way. She’d answered his questions in her pyjamas before she went to bed at night. The thought made a wave of nausea rush over her.

  “You hadn’t realized,” he went on, posing the words as a statement, more than a question.

  She shook her head, forcing herself to exhale. “No,” she replied, her eyes darting from his surprised expression to the two bowls still waiting in front of her.

  “Oh well,” he mused. “It doesn’t matter now either way.” There was a pause as he considered his own declaration. “I need to read this and you, Molly, you need to obey me. Now tell me, what were your orders?”

  Molly drew in a shaky breath. He wanted her to say the words out loud and somehow the thought was even more mortifying than the actual deed. “To eat, Sir,” she mumbled eventually, praying inwardly that her answer would suffice.

  “Yes,” he replied. “But how should you eat, and from what?”

  She forced her eyes away from his smug visage, focusing instead on the shredded chicken in the bowl ahead of her. It felt like these bowls had become her nemesis. “Eat the food from the dog bowl, Sir,” she mumbled, noting how breathy her own voice sounded at the thought, despite her mortification.

  “Precisely,” he answered. “And we both know you want to, Molly, so let’s not pretend. You’re going to do as you’re told, aren’t you? You’re going to crawl over to that bowl and lower your face into it. The movement will tighten your leash, reminding you that you’re naked and collared on my floor, and all the while you’re going to eat that chicken.”

  She was shaking by the time he’d finished. She could actually see her hands trembling before her. But the worst of it was this, it wasn’t fear which made her body move, but arousal. Just listening to his order had made her wet. Molly had felt the moisture gathering between her legs, and right now she could feel the need thrumming within her core. She glanced up to him, and for the longest moment their eyes locked.

  “Go on, Molly,” he coaxed her. “Make me proud. I know you want this.”

  Her eyes fell away from his expression, but already her body shifted at his words. As though she was functioning on some subliminal level, she felt her body moving, first onto all fours, and then forward as she crawled the short distance to the waiting bowls. Molly heard the creak of Connor’s chair as he slid it back against the tiles, and in her peripheral vision, she was aware of him moving to get a better view, but even that humiliation didn’t make her stop. Her only hesitation came as she hovered over the two bowls, her breasts swinging freely as she contemplated her fate.

  “Good girl, Molly,” he cooed, and she twisted her head in the direction of Connor’s voice, surprised to see his chair now almost immediately to her left. Her face flamed at the realization, and for an awful moment, the shame paralyzed her as fresh heat engulfed her cheeks.

  “That’s right,” he continued, his words coaxing her. “Spread those legs and lower yourself. You should have just enough leash to reach.”

  She took a deep breath, casting her eyes down to the right of the two bowls. Shifting a little in its direction, she complied wordlessly, feeling the tug at her neck as she pressed her body down toward the floor. It was the strangest thing, as though she was hypnotized, and like a moth to a flame she went, reveling in how unbelievably turned on she was as she degraded herself for him. There was a moment as the meat grew nearer to her mouth that she almost faltered. It was like a shot of reality when Molly pictured herself as Connor could see her, and the embarrassment nearly toppled her altogether. As though he sensed the panic rising in her chest, Connor lurched forward, kneeling beside her as she lingered over the bowl.

  “Go on,” he told her, his voice a little sterner than it had been previously. “Get that face right in there.”

  Molly panted at his words, her body jerking in response to the cruel pinch Connor gifted her left nipple. The pain was real enough, but in her current state of arousal, all it did was to catapult her forward into the bowl. She captured the first piece of chicken in her teeth. Gasping she sucked the meat into her mouth, chewing it slowly as she felt her face flame further. Oh my God… This was really happening. She was really eating chicken from a dog bowl on the floor, while she was naked and leashed.

  “Oh fuck, yes,” purred Connor lustfully, the sound of his voice drawing her head up again. “No!” he snapped, making her flinch. “Stay right down there over the bowl until you’re finished. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded, shamefully aroused as she swallowed down the first mouthful. “Yes, Sir,” she replied, as she pushed her face back down for the next bite. Somehow the second piece was easier. She ignored the sound of the metal at her wrists and went for it, grazing the bowl of meat with her lips as she seized the mouthful. As she chewed, she felt one of his hands at her ass. It trailed a line over the tender place he’d spanked earlier, before dipping down toward her wet folds.

  Molly’s mouth stilled for a moment. She knew that she should halt the progress of his fingers. She shouldn’t want this, after all. She hadn’t asked to come here and be treated this way, and she hadn’t consented to his touch, but there was something else. Something more, and the thought was unsettling. She did want this, and she wanted it more badly than she wanted to admit. She was so turned on right now, so tightly wound that she reasoned any touch could topple her into some depraved hedonism, and rather than make her shameful, the thought drove her on.

  “Keep eating, little pet,” he said, his voice almost a low growl.

  Her jaws resumed at once, as did his fingers which found her glistening lips as she swallowed the food in her mouth. Molly moaned as his digits skimmed the edge of her pussy, and she heard the wry chuckle which followed.

  “You do like this, Molly, don’t you?” he asked just as one of those long fingers probed between her lips.

  She groaned at the intrusion, her hips rocking out of instinct at the newest, heady sensation. He shifted his hand in an instant, and brought it crashing down upon her upturned and vulnerable bottom.

  “Ouch!” she yelped, despite her mouthful of food.

  “Keep those hips still,” he warned her. “You do not take, Molly. You receive, got it?”

  She nodded, mumbling her agreement as she chewed on her food, and in some act of reward, she felt the hand at her nipple reappear at exactly the same time as the one at her sex. Connor massaged the weight of her left breast gently, as he worked one finger in and out of her wet channel. And boy, was she wet. Molly mewled at the overwhelming sensations, hanging her head by the bowl as he pleasured her.

  “Fuck yes,” he said again. “You are so wet for me. Do you know that?”

  She leaned forward, capturing the next piece of chicken as a new reflexive groan left her lips. How could she argue, even if she wanted to? The man was right. She was obviously wrong in the head, but something about this fucked up situation was driving her crazy, and she was sure she’d never been so
horny in her life.

  His digits were gone again in an instant, and three fresh smacks rained down on her behind. Her body jerked at the spanks, but the sting only made her more aroused and she moaned as he landed a fourth. “I asked you a question, little pet,” his voice vibrated over her skin. “Answer me!”

  “Y-yes, Sir,” she whimpered, swallowing down the ignominy with the remaining chicken.

  “I knew you’d make the perfect pet, and I was right,” he cooed. “Get your face in that bowl and eat your food. Press those tits against the floor, demean yourself for me.”

  Molly gasped at his words, but one hard smack from his right palm sent her rushing to obey, and she did exactly what he’d asked, feeling a new surge of arousal coursing through her as she yielded.

  “Look at you, denigrating yourself not just for me – not just for my pleasure – but for your own as well. You’re mind-blowing, Molly,” he whispered as he fingered her. “Fucking mind-blowing.”

  She moaned in response, despising herself for enjoying this, yet completely powerless to prevent it. The truth was she was more than just enjoying it. She was utterly enraptured by the experience, and as she devoured more of the meat in the bowl – her bowl – she wondered if there was any coming back from it. Could she ever just be the Molly who’d sat and typed erotic fantasies all day after this? Even if she could escape Connor’s clutches, what resemblance of normal life could be waiting for her?

  He pressed another finger inside her and slowly, rhythmically, both began to fuck her while she finished her food. The act should have been humbling, humiliating, soul-destroying even, and in so many ways it was. But it was also more than that. Exponentially more than that, and it became everything to Molly, who was caught in the trap of his leash and his fingers. The faster she ate, the faster he fucked her, his fingers rewarding her pet play just as surely as she might have written them to, and within moments Molly was right on the brink of pleasure.