Chapter Sixty-Four
The trek through the forest was longer than he remembered, but the last time he’d made the journey, Connor hadn’t been carrying his pet with him. They were deep into the forest at this point, but he knew Thetford like the back of his hand, and he’d spent many hours preparing for this moment. It took a good twenty minutes to reach the small hut he’d readied for the occasion, but there it was. The morning light filtered through the tall trees surrounding the cabin, highlighting it between the trees. He recalled the many hours of sweat he’d poured into making the place a reality. He’d needed somewhere isolated, but not too far away from his house. It was perfect, rather like his pet, and the sight made him stop dead in his tracks, until a small whimper from the carrier drew his attention.
She was mewling for him, and the thought made him smile. She’d been exceptionally well-behaved for a long time. He knew how squashed up she was in there, and a strange pride rose in his throat at what she’d had to endure.
“Not long now, pet,” he mused aloud, knowing the sound would carry to the crate in his left hand.
Connor could understand her sentiment. The carrier was starting to weigh him down on one side, and the heavy bag of equipment he’d brought from the car was doing the same on the other. They would both be glad to arrive. It took about another ten minutes to get her inside. Placing the carrier down in the darkness on one side of the cabin, he spent time carefully unpacking the bag. He pulled the laptop from its confines, making sure it was safe as he went back to the large bag. There was no electricity out here, so he’d have to use it sparingly, but that wasn’t an excuse for her not to write, particularly after everything they’d been through in the last twelve hours. He made her wait as he emptied the remaining contents. Connor knew she’d be in pain by now, her joints probably screaming, and the sadistic streak in him bloody loved the idea. He also knew she’d be able to make out most of what was going on from her position facing into the room. The fact she was trapped excited him, as it always did, but this different. Better. Hotter.
The expanse of darkness in the hut was never ending. The corners of the place made black look pale by comparison, and all she could really make out was Connor’s preoccupation with the bag in the very center. The only light source was a weak trail coming from where the door was, illuminating his ominous frame as he unpacked. Everything hurt now, except the places which had lost the feeling in them altogether. Molly didn’t know how long she’d been squeezed into this box, but that’s what this was – a fucking box – and all she knew was humans weren’t made for this shit.
When he finally approached her, removing the key to the padlock from his pocket, Molly couldn’t say if it was relief or fury which rose in her. Whatever it was, the emotion caught in the back of her throat as the metal door was pulled open.
“Out you come,” he told her, his voice irritatingly cordial, considering everything he had made her endure.
Her head moved first, her neck creating forward motion, and the shift in weight forcing the rest of her to join it. Her fingers uncurled, flattening against the smooth wood of the floor, and next her shoulders were freed. The relief at being able to stretch her back was bliss, but short-lived. Almost as soon as her legs were moving, pain flew from her knees, propelling her out of the carrier completely. Molly landed in a heap against the wood, her instincts telling her curl up into a ball, but of course, that’s the last thing she wanted to do. What she wanted to do was stretch out all of her limbs, nursing her elbows, knees and ankles until the hurt went away, but she had the feeling pain like this might never really end. It felt deep and ingrained in her somehow, as though this moment would stay with her for the rest of her life.
Connor loomed over her the whole time, silent yet seemingly brooding at her performance. If she’d have had the energy, she’d have kicked him, cursed him or offered him some retort, but she had none. No energy, no inclination – no nothing. All she wanted at this moment was to be left the fuck alone to recover from the crate. If that was even possible.
It was like he read her mind again, or maybe he understood, but he didn’t try to engage her. Instead he produced a blanket from the bag and opened it over her sprawled body, leaving her to rest. Molly’s lids fell shut gratefully. The floor was hard and unforgiving against her soft curves, but the blanket was already warming her, and if nothing else, she could finally move. She could stretch, she could flex; she was free of the box. Possibly she was dozing when she felt the tug at her ankles. She considered opening an eye to assess what on earth he was doing, but the weight of exhaustion was so heavy, she chose not to. So long as she wasn’t in the box, she felt sure she could survive anything else.
Molly had no idea how long she’d slept when she finally roused. All she knew was as her eyes took in the place around her, things were different. The hut was lit by a number of large candles flickering around the place. Fleetingly she considered how flagrantly unsafe it was to leave naked flames in a cabin made entirely of wood, but she pushed the thought away. Of all the dangers in this place, Connor was by far the greatest. What the fuck was he thinking keeping her in the dog carrier? The subjugation at the house had been one thing. It was totally fucked up, but there’s no doubt she’d loved it. The orgasms she’d experienced with Connor had been sensational – literally the best in her life – but that couldn’t compensate for this. He took objectification to a whole new level. A grim and perilous level, which left her as far away from arousal as she could imagine. Yes, he could be gentle and tender, but there was something else in him. Some sort of monster. Molly knew she had to get away from that monster if it was the last thing she ever did. She’d been crazy to think the sexual intimacy of last night could mean anything. Monsters don’t have feelings, remember?
She wiggled her toes and ankles, before working the movement up her body slowly. Tentatively, she bent her knees, braced for the sharp pain of before, but now there was only a dull ache, the remnants of her ordeal. That’s when the other change occurred to her. There was nothing at her wrists and ankles. Whilst the leather collar remained at her neck, the leash had been removed for the first time in days, and so had the metal cuffs which had connected her limbs. She was unchained! The thought produced a gasp from her lips as a rush of exhilarated panic rose to her throat. Her eyes darted about the place, searching for her captor. She knew he’d have to be here, he’d never have left her unattended like this, but wherever she looked she couldn’t see him from her spot on the floor. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she remained still, although her heart was now hammering in her chest.
This is it, she thought, her breath hitching as the reality hit her. He had finally left her unbound and unsupervised. If you’re going to run, then you have to run now. She eyed the black corners of the hut hopefully. The door was to her right, a little more than a few feet away. She could reach it, there was no doubt about that, and she could reach it before him. But he could run faster. He was stronger and fitter, and he had the advantage of knowing where the fuck they were out in the middle of nowhere.
“Are you going to run, Molly?” His voice was calm, and almost amused as it questioned her.
She shifted her gaze to follow the sound of his voice, her face no doubt portraying her anxiety on the subject. “No,” she lied, her tone breathless.
“No?” he repeated back to her as he stepped forward out of the black shadows of the furthest corner. His right brow arched in the tantalizing way it did when he knew he was onto a winner.
“No,” she confirmed, shaking her head for good measure.
He moved toward her laughing. “You could run, you know,” he went on, his gaze intense as his tall body loomed over her.
Molly blinked up at her captor. Free of her binds at last, she felt bolstered and no longer wanted to call him Master. She could never allow a monster like Connor to master her. “What?”
“You could run,” he affirmed. “If you wanted to? Your stories have always had an elem
ent of the cat and mouse about them, haven’t they, pet? I know you’d enjoy that, and if you didn’t already know, I love the thrill of the chase.”
Adrenaline spiked in her body as he spoke. Was he giving her permission to flee from him? Is that why he’d removed the chains? Was this just the latest game he wanted to play?
“Yes,” he answered her, although she was certain she hadn’t spoken the words out loud. “You can run, Molly, but you know if you run, I’m going to chase you, and you know I’m going to catch you.”
Her heart was pounding in her chest as she sat up straight beside him, pinning her wide-eyed gaze onto his. “Why are you saying this?” she mumbled. And how do you know all of this?
His smile widened, and he pulled up a box from nearby, seating himself beside her. “After all this time, pet,” he purred. “Don’t you think I know you by now? I knew you before we’d even met. I know what you’re thinking, Molly. You are quite literally an open book to me.”
She flushed, her head falling forward as though the admission was shameful. She was ashamed, because he was right. He did seem to know her. He knew what she was going to be thinking, what she wanted, and just how to control her. It was freaking infuriating.
“Look at me.” His voice was sterner, having taken on some of the quality which made the knot of anxious energy in her belly tighten. She complied, not wanting to rile the beast in him. Their eyes met, his mesmerizing green orbs utterly compelling. His hand came slowly to her face. Molly flinched out of instinct, but relaxed when he began to caress the side of her face with calm, gentle strokes. “This is your story, pet,” he mused. “Our story. If you want to run, then I am not going to stop you.”
“But you will chase me?” she whispered, her fear furling as simmering arousal at his touch began to flood her system. She knew she shouldn’t crave him, but she found herself leaning into the warmth of his hand. It was like a reflex. Despite the fact this was the same hand that had captured, and tormented her, it was also the hand that had rescued and comforted her – and pleasured her.
Connor’s chuckle resonated deeply inside of Molly’s body. “Of course,” he answered, his fingers tightening in her long dark hair. “I will chase you because you’re mine, pet. You belong to me now, we both know that, don’t we?” He hesitated as though he expected her to speak, but she merely blinked at him. Too terrified to respond. Too afraid of what her answer might be. “Molly?”
The sound of her name made her lips part. It was intimate, fanning the flames of her burgeoning need. “Yes, Master?” she said, her voice barely audible as she confessed the truth.
For a moment they just stared at one another, the admission lingering in the dank air around them.
“But that’s not the only reason I’d chase you,” he went on eventually. “I’d chase you because it’s what you want, Molly, isn’t it?”
She gaped at him, hating the way he did this. This man – this stranger – had taken the very fabric of her fantasies and made them real. He’d stitched each patch of hedonistic depravity together, and created this… whatever this was. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” she replied in a sigh.
The fingers at her face shifted, gripping her chin more tightly. “Now, now, that’s not true,” he said, admonishing her in a playful way. “Of all people, you need not lie to me, Molly. We both know what you are. We both know what you need.”
Molly gulped at the severity in his expression. The look of it made her pussy ache for him, the dull sensation numbing all of her rational thought. “I’m afraid,” she admitted, although she despised the sound of the concession the moment it left her lips.
Connor smirked at that. “Why would you be afraid now?” he asked, “I am giving you what you want. You are unbound and free to make an escape, if that’s what you think you desire?”
She drew in a deep breath, her eyes darting momentarily to the door. She could run. She knew that now. He was even going to let her, but… How far could she get really with him on her tail? And what would he do to her when he caught up with her? She considered how he would make her pay for what he would no doubt see as her insubordination. He might be giving her the choice now, but somehow it would come back to bite her. And the price would be high. Maybe too high.
She glanced back to him. That brow was arched again, waiting for her verdict, daring her to defy him. “I don’t want to run.” The words flew out in one giant rush, expressed with feeling. She hoped they masked what she was really thinking.
“Are you sure, pet?” His tone was mocking, and she balled her fists beside her, trying to contain the anger it produced in her.
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes unexpectedly. She couldn’t bear this, the way he played with her, the way he would always win. It was just too much. She had to get away, but it couldn’t be now. It had to be when he wasn’t expecting it. “What are you going to do to me here?” She whimpered, her eyes surveying the expanse of wood around her again.
He rose from the box in a heartbeat, the swift motion startling her. “Oh no,” he told her, sauntering around the place she sat. Her eyes followed him, her instincts telling her that whatever was coming was not going to be good. “We’re not playing this game.”
“Wh-what game?” she stammered, twisting her body to watch him behind her.
He moved to the door, securing the bolt in place and then adding a padlock, which had been hiding in his pocket. Molly’s heart fell. Her one chance to escape – the only one she’d had since that night he’d taken her – and she’d thrown it away. Connor turned, his gaze on her at once.
“You don’t get to decide what happens next,” he murmured, approaching her again. “And you don’t get an agenda either. Now, get back on your knees, little one.” His tone was low, and more predatory. “It’s time to play.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
The day was arduous. Even to Connor, the rounds of exercise, spanking and the almost ritual-style humiliation he inflicted on Molly was exhausting. Connor made his pet play for hours, and the small forest hut was the ideal location for his games. He didn’t need gags anymore, Molly could make as much noise as she wanted, and no one would hear them. They were in the densest part of the woods, and he knew from experience no one came this way. He’d spent months tracking the movements around these parts. He knew where people camped, he knew where people played and trekked and took family holidays, and it wasn’t here. This was as remote as southeast England got, and it was absolutely perfect for breaking in his new pet.
Hours after they’d arrived, he sat on the large box, watching as her thighs trembled, and her ass reddened under the weight of his paddle. All the while his cock was engorged and unsatisfied, wanting more than just her obedience, wanting her. Again. He wanted her the way he’d had her last night, only rougher and harder this time. He needed to satiate his desire, and soon.
“How are you enjoying my cabin, pet?” he asked, wryly as he paddled her bottom again.
Her gaze flew to his, her eyes wide with indignation at the sarcastic question. He’d been stripping away her defenses since she’d turned down his offer to run earlier. Slowly, peeling each one away, until there was nothing left except pain, obedience and he suspected, her own simmering arousal. Connor waited for her response, and while he did, he mused on her reaction earlier. He was certain she wanted to take his offer. He could tell how much she’d hated the pet carrier, and he’d meant every word he said. He would have let her go. He wanted her to run. He wanted to hunt her down.
“Please,” she panted, “no more.”
Connor smiled. Perhaps she needed relief, too? “No more of my paddle?” His voice was taunting.
“Please, no, Master,” she choked.
His eyes darted back to her punished behind as she crawled past him again. They had been playing for a long time, and the flesh of her bottom was red and angry.
Poor little, pet…
There was no need for leashes and chains now. The door to the cabin
was locked, and there was no other way out.
“What shall we play, instead?” he mused out loud as he stood. “Oh, I know. How about you polish your Master’s cock for him?”
Speaking about himself in the third person amused him, and he chuckled as Molly gazed up at him. He guessed if she was that desperate for the paddling to end, then sucking his rod would seem like a relative reprieve.
She was nodding as she replied. “Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“Yes, what?” he snarled, grabbing the leather at her neck roughly.
Molly’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes, please, Master,” she said, miserably. “Please use my mouth.”
That was more like it, and he grinned as he undid his fly with his free hand. His cock sprung free immediately, bobbing in front of Molly’s face. Her lips parted instinctively, and he drove into her, giving her no chance to change her mind. The cabin had no cameras. There was no option to record what was going on with no electricity, so Connor intended to make each moment count. He wanted each experience burned into his mind, so that he’d remember them without the help of film. Tears blinked in her eyes as he thrust deep inside her throat. He was anything but gentle now, fucking her face brutally as she knelt in front of him. Each lunge was exquisite, encircling his erection in her hot, satiny mouth, and he exulted in the intensity of it.
As his climax neared, he focused on the pretty little pet at his feet. She was completely his now, his in every way, and by the time he’d finished with her at the cabin, she’d never dare to disobey him again. This is where he’d break her, and they’d stay as long as it took. If Molly didn’t want to be hunted, then she’d be haunted instead. By him.
Taken: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 1) Page 30