He glanced down at her. Her face was a picture, a potent combination of shock and trepidation, as her gaze tried to follow the trail of the clothespins. He reckoned she knew what was coming next. She had certainly written the scene herself on enough occasions to see where this is going.
“Why aren’t you writing?” His tone was intentionally stern.
Molly raised her gaze to meet his eye. “I’m sorry,” she exhaled in a rush. “I didn’t know what you were doing, Sir.”
There was that word again. He loved how easily she had taken to addressing him the correct way, and every time it rolled from her delicious looking lips, he wanted to pull her face first over the bed and slam into her no-doubt sodden pussy.
“It doesn’t matter what I’m doing,” he told her, using this moment to tweak both of her nipples hard. She groaned, but interestingly there was no resistance. “Whatever I do, you’re expected to complete this session of writing. Got it?”
Her breath was coming out in short, fast pants by this point “Yes, Sir,” she gasped, forcing her eyes to the screen between his arms.
Connor allowed her a moment, waiting for the typing to resume, and then he pinched her buds again. There was nothing but a fast intake of breath this time, so he prepared the clothespin in his right hand. Opening the wooden arms, he grazed the edge of Molly’s nipple with the wood. If it was possible, her bud tightened even further as if her body was silently begging him to continue. Smiling, he released the tension, forcing the wood to close around the expectant nipple. He watched her face carefully as he let go, seeing the flicker of pain etched into her features, but also that other emotion, the one she was fighting hard to keep in check – her arousal. Quickly, he switched his attention to the other breast, and in less than a minute, both of Molly’s breasts were adorned with the wooden clothespins.
Connor stood up straight to appraise his work and was compelled to grin at the sight which met him. What a vision she was, naked and pegged for him to enjoy, while she wrote the story of their time together. His cock was rock hard inside his pants, and for a moment, he considered claiming her mouth while she was chained there, but he thought better of it. He needed her to write, and that would be impossible if his erection got its way.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Molly’s head was clouded with the weight of all the sensations. The terror at what might be to come, the rage at being treated this way, and the stark horniness at how wet the treatment made her. They all combined to taunt her. The burgeoning pressure at her breasts was the worst, because it was the newest. She was more than aware of how her pussy had reacted to the clothespins. Damn, she could feel the moisture between her thighs, and she’d have gladly pressed them together if Connor hadn’t chained her ankles into position. She’d always had a thing about nipple clamps. The feeling of pressure at her breasts was the surest way to get her hot and bothered, and of course, having poured her fantasies into her many books, Connor was well aware of this fact.
Somehow, she managed to keep the writing flowing, the momentum of her fingers at the keys the only thing to focus on while he tortured her. She didn’t dare meet his eyes, but it was obvious from the tent appearing in his pants just how much Connor was enjoying the show. This fact also riled her, although maybe not as much as it should have done. As her digits sailed over the keyboard, she allowed her mind to wander to earlier, when he’d made her come in the kitchen. What had she been thinking, allowing him to pleasure her like that? God dammit, she hadn’t just permitted it, she actually begged for it, while he made her eat from a dog bowl. She glanced away from the screen at the memory, her fingers stilling at the potency of the recollection. What had she done? She’d practically whored herself for this man. The same guy who’d taken her and degraded her at every opportunity.
“Are you finished?” His tone was husky, laced with the desire he was no-doubt trying to contain.
Molly swallowed, turning back to the screen. Her fingers were working again before her mouth responded. “Nearly, Sir,” she murmured, wanting desperately to push the memory of her mortifying climax from her mind. “I’m just finishing now.”
She had no idea how good any of this narrative would be. Christ knows her head had been in another place altogether since this ordeal began. She grimaced at her own choice of language. Ordeal? Could she really use that word? Did the term apply to a situation where the so-called victim actively sought their own denigration in return for a soul-shattering orgasm? Molly bit her lip as she considered the idea, wondering what the hell was wrong with her.
As she opened what she hoped would be the final paragraph for now, she swallowed back on her shame. This is not your fault, she reminded herself curtly. You didn’t ask for this, you didn’t want this. He took you, he drugged you, he’s the asshole here! Her gaze fell upon him at the thought, and she quickly concluded the scene where he chained her here to write.
“I’m done, Sir,” she mumbled, all too conscious of his gaze bearing down on her.
“Good girl,” he replied, appearing over her right shoulder, his arms reaching down to save the document she’d been working from. “How do you like your new additions?”
Connor’s body drew back, his hands cupping her breasts. She gasped at the contact, watching as he manipulated both her mounds in unison, causing the clothespins to jerk at the end of her nipples. Fresh sensation coursed through her, flooding the apex of her thighs with hot arousal.
“They’re distracting, Sir,” she conceded at length, although she regretted her choice of words immediately.
Distracting? Why say that? Why admit that anything about the experience was confusing? It alluded rather too well to her true feelings on the subject, and how turned on the wood at her breasts made her feel.
“Hmmm,” came the reply, his voice vibrating over her skin. “I’m inclined to agree. The sight is very distracting.”
His mouth skimmed her nape as he concluded, and instinctively Molly held her breath. What was he doing? Was he going to kiss her again, and did she even want him to? Connor’s lips nipped at the sensitive skin between her neck and her shoulders, before exploring north, trailing a line of kisses at her jaw. Molly tensed, forcing her breath in and out of her mouth.
Oh God, she thought as the pressure at her jawline intensified. Oh God, this can’t be happening. I can’t be enjoying this.
But enjoying it she was, and by the time Connor’s lips moved to the corner of her mouth, she was panting, reveling in the sensual contact between their bodies. His mouth felt amazing against her vulnerable skin, and the fact that she was chained and pretty powerless to prevent his exploration made the whole thing even hotter.
The hand at her left breast vanished, and in a second it collected the side of her face, drawing her gaze right to meet his eye. Molly’s face flamed as new embarrassment assaulted her. She’d welcomed his advances yet again, and Connor was no fool, he’d be able to tell just how turned on the whole experience had made her. His green eyes seared her with an intensity she couldn’t ever recall before.
“It’s time for bed now,” he purred, the minty scent of his breath wafting over her face.
Bed? She blinked at him wordlessly, unsure if the statement was a threat or a blessing.
“Yes,” he said, as though he had read her mind. “Bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, and if you want to keep pleasing me, then you’ll need some sleep.”
Connor retreated, leaving her no-doubt vacant expression as he swept away the laptop from in front of her. She was so freaking horny at this point, her body whirring with unspent need. How could she ever rest in this state, let alone sleep?
“Where do I sleep, Sir?” she asked, cringing at how raspy her tone was.
Connor smiled. “Wherever I tell you, pet.”
His answer came with a sardonic smile, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing his smug, arrogant face to vanish from her mind. As she released the air, there was that low-lying crackle from her chest again. Sh
e guessed the food, pleasure and rest had temporarily relieved her symptoms, but it had still been hours, and she still needed her asthma medication. Molly had struggled with her breathing for years, and she knew the signs that she needed her inhalers. Christ knew how many hours it was since she’d taken the medication at the hotel, and by now her body badly needed another dose. Without her prescription drugs, her lungs were going to deteriorate pretty quickly.
She watched as Connor moved the small table to under the window, and then came to crouch down in front of her. “You’re wheezing,” he said, the words more of a statement than a question.
Molly blinked at him, surprised at his acknowledgement of her symptoms. “Er, yes,” she answered. “I get puffed out at this time of the day if I don’t take my—”
“Inhalers?” he offered, finishing her sentence for her.
She gaped at him, stunned at his ability to know what she was thinking. “Yes, Sir,” she mumbled, awkwardly.
Connor eyed her in silence for a moment, forcing his gaze south. On route to her knees, his eyes cast over her naked form. The two clothespins stuck out from her chest humiliatingly, making her breasts ache gloriously, and goading the flames already rousing between her legs.
“You’ll sleep in my room tonight,” he concluded after a long silence.
Molly glanced up nervously, unsure if the latest edict was something she should be relieved or worried about. Connor offered no further words to reassure her, instead he reached forward and slowly released the chains which held her legs in place to the chair.
“I’m going to leash you again,” he informed her, “and don’t even try and think about running, pet. Remember, you’re still chained, and I am faster than you. I will catch you, and then I will spend the rest of the night punishing you for your stupidity.”
He paused, allowing that thought to sink in. “Is that what you want?”
She shook her head, although her mind was racing. There was a dark promise in the threat, and she knew from the sinful look in his eye that he would deliver, but there was a large part of her that wanted to run. Badly. She didn’t want to be his, she didn’t want to be chained, leashed and forced to live as a pet. These things were all very well on paper, but in real life, Molly was an independent woman with a smart mouth. This couldn’t be her fate.
Connor reached forward, tugging hard on the end of the clothespins, still attached to her breasts. The sensation broke her train of thought in an instant and she yelped in response. “Is that what you want, pet?” he asked her again in a curt voice.
“No, Sir,” she whispered, fidgeting against the plug wedged into her ass as the pain of the pins at her nipples radiated through her tightly wound body, straight to her clit.
He rose, sauntering to the bed and collecting the metal leash which he’d used to lead her to the bathroom earlier. “On your knees,” he ordered, and Molly found herself complying, despite her patent desire to be free.
He connected the leash to the collar at her neck, moving in the direction of the door. “Come on,” he commanded, without even looking back. “You know how to crawl by now.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
He led her down the dark corridor, pausing at a door to the right before the bathroom. It hadn’t been his original plan to keep her here tonight. He had thought to leave her tied to the bed in the spare room, where he could monitor her from his laptop, but hearing her struggle for breath had changed all that in a heartbeat. Of course, Connor had known she was asthmatic. He’d been studying her for too long to not be aware of her underlying health conditions, and anyway, he had people who dealt with that stuff. More than that though, he was ready for her condition. Using an alias provided by his old friends at The Syndicate, he’d been able to buy most of the drugs she’d need over the internet. He’d had them shipped to a proxy address, and had been stocking up for months now. Connor was certain he had what she needed to quell her symptoms. While he enjoyed watching the little pet suffer, he didn’t want her to suffocate.
Twisting the handle, he pushed the door open. Soft green light flooded the area, the effect of his soft furnishings coupled with the spot lights around his room. He glanced down at the woman at his feet, watching her taking it all in.
“Inside,” he commanded, his tone sensual and low as he watched her firm, little behind wiggle past his shins. The look of the butt plug sitting snugly in place inside her made him almost gleeful. He’d nearly forgotten she’d been forced to endure it the whole time she’d been writing.
Closing the door behind him, he slid the top bolt across for good measure and guided her into the space. She knelt on all fours on the emerald rug in the center of his room, and he allowed his gaze to take in the look of her there, nude in front of his large king-sized bed. There was a moment when the scene nearly overawed him. Molly Clary was here in his room, naked and leashed. It had been his aspiration for such a long time that it was almost unbelievable, and his cock pulsed greedily in his pants, reminding him of the fact.
“I wasn’t going to keep you here tonight,” he told her as he approached slowly.
She eyed him with a wary expression, but said nothing in reply. What could she say? He didn’t even know why he had divulged the information to her. Moving past her, he secured the end of the leash to the nearest oversized wooden post at the end of his bed, before he shifted his focus back to Molly.
“You take the fluticasone inhaler at night. Is that right?”
Connor watched with some amusement as her gaze widened. Evidently, she had not expected her kidnapper to have done his homework. She was wrong.
“Y-yes, Sir,” she replied in little more than a labored gasp.
Connor reached into the dresser behind him, pulling the desired inhaler from the drawer and presenting it to her.
“Like this?” His tone was sardonic.
Her body trembled as she appraised the asthma pump in his hand. “Yes, Sir,” she said again, and he could hear the shock in her voice.
He ripped the inhaler from its protective packaging, shaking the pump as he approached his little pet. “Up onto your knees then,” he ordered, ignoring his throbbing erection as she rose to obey.
“How many puffs do you need?” His voice sounded hoarse, and he wondered if she’d pick up on the fact.
She glanced up with large eyes. “Just one, please.”
Connor nodded, dropping to one knee in front of her as he held the pump out. “Wrap your mouth around the end,” he told her, trying not to overthink the analogy. “When you’re in place I’ll press the pump.”
Their gazes locked for a brief second, but she parted her lips in response as he moved the inhaler toward her mouth. Connor watched, mesmerized as she took the pump between her lips, her eyes flitting north to await his command.
“Ready?” he asked, exulting in this bizarre act of intimacy.
She nodded as best she could around the end of the inhaler, and he smiled.
“Okay, after three. Three, two, one…” He pressed the pump, releasing a dose of medicine into the inhaler, and right on cue she inhaled deeply, taking the drug into her wheezy lungs.
He flinched at the sound of the breath, hoping the inhaler would now resolve the issue. Molly released the pump from her mouth, panting lightly as she drew back onto her haunches.
“Better, pet?” he inquired, watching her carefully.
“Yes, I hope so, Sir,” she agreed, eyeing him as he assessed her.
“Do you need a blue inhaler too?” He had learnt from his research that asthmatics used this second drug to offer immediate relief from their symptoms.
“You have that one, as well?” she asked, sounding genuinely astonished.
The stunned look on her pretty face made him laugh out loud. “Yes, pet,” he replied, rising to swap asthma pumps in his dresser. “You’ll find I’m well prepared.”
She nodded as her eyes clocked the latest asthma pump in his hand. Connor couldn’t tell if it was panic, relief or gratitude
which swam in those beautiful orbs. It was probably a potent combination of all of these and more.
“Open up,” he instructed, lowering himself to her level again. “Same as before.”
The little pet crept forward on her knees, the motion making her pegged breasts jiggle wonderfully as she moved to take the inhaler in her mouth. Connor watched as the leash attached to her neck tightened, but there was just enough room for her to take her medicine. Once she was in position, he counted down again, before squirting the drug into her throat. The act seemed to calm her almost at once, and she settled back on her haunches as he replaced the cap on the inhaler.
“Better?” he asked her, knowingly.
“Thank you, Sir,” she replied, her gaze lowering to the floor.
Something about that gesture, her softly spoken tone or the humility, made his breath catch. He didn’t know quite what it was exactly, but it was definitely something. The way his heart pounded in his chest was a testament to that fact. She was gorgeous. Of course, the collar and the clothespins helped, and the woman was fucking stunning in her own right, but it was more than even that.
“Bed now,” he pronounced, forcing the words from his mouth.
The sound of his voice made her head rise and her gaze met his again.
“Where do I sleep?” she asked him again, her eyes darting around the space to try and find the answer herself.
He smiled as he strode toward the side of his bed. Putting the blue inhaler down on the small bedside cabinet, he fell to his knees, reaching underneath the mattress. Connor could feel the weight of her stare as he found what he was looking for, and slowly he pulled it out from under the bed to reveal the place his little pet would be sleeping.
“Here,” he told her, turning to see her face as her eyes fell over the large dog bed in his hands. It was rather like the one he’d made her use in the kitchen, but this one was larger, and softer. In fact, he decided as he tucked it into place alongside the middle of his bed, he’d been rather generous when he’d made the purchase.
Taken: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 1) Page 15