Snare (Delirious book 1)

by Wild, Clarissa

  “Listen, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you know just as well as I do that—”

  Suddenly, Sebastian grabs my arms and shoves me against the wooden wall, trapping me between his arms. The money that was in my hand drops to the floor.

  “What? That I know you or you know me?” He leans forward. “That I did something with you?”

  I swallow, staring him dead in the face, not giving in to his taunt. “We had sex.”

  Squinting, he steps closer, tightening his grip on my arms. “And?”

  “And it was wonderful.”

  He smiles cheekily. “Of course it was.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “I rock every woman’s fantasy. Too bad it’s only a fantasy.”

  “What?” I say. “It wasn’t just a fantasy.”

  “Oh, Miss, whatever your name is …”

  “Carrigan,” I sneer.

  “Miss Carrigan …” The way he says my name sends shivers down my body. “Whatever you have in your mind, you’re mistaken. I would not take a woman and not remember her.”

  “Don’t call me a liar.”

  “I’m not. I simply think you’re confused. That’s okay. I know how to deal with confused women.”

  I snort. “I bet you cause most of that confusion.”

  He smiles. “Touché. You’re right, I do.” He cocks his head. “And you know what else?” He leans forward, pushing himself up against me. My nipples perk up from arousal, smoothing along his casual attire. Even though he denies every single thing I say, he still turns me on.

  “What?” I ask, my lips still parted, inclining toward him.

  He moves his head to my ears, making me gasp for breath.

  “I mess with their heads.”

  I take a sharp breath. Jesus Christ.

  He places a hand on the wall beside me, squeezing my arm even harder with his other hand. “What do you want from me, Miss Carrigan?”

  “I want the truth. You know me. Tell me you do. Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me. I miss your touch.”

  He sniffs in my ear, but then I realize it’s partial laughter. After a while, he opens his mouth, breathing hot air into my ear. I clench my legs together from the heat.

  “I don’t need anyone. Ever.”

  “I know you said I shouldn’t come to you, but I couldn’t go anywhere else,” I whisper in pure despair. I don’t want him to deny me this. I can’t deal with it.

  “You’re right, you shouldn’t have come. You have no idea what you’ve done.”

  “I’m sorry …”

  “You’re messing with the wrong man.”

  I gasp as he reaches for my throat. I squirm under his arms but don’t fight his tight grip pinning me to the wall. Why is he being this cruel?

  “You think you know me?”

  “No … but you know me. You know I need you … I need you, Mister Brand, to make it all okay again.”

  “You need me? You think you need my hands touching you? How does it feel so far?”

  I struggle to stay put with his fingers slowly digging into my neck. I cough.

  He comes close to my lips, almost kissing me. “You think you want this? Guess again.”

  “I do,” I whisper.

  “Fine.”

  With haste, he spins me on my feet, pushing me down until my face is against the wall and my ass is pointing in his direction. He yanks my dress up and rips my panties down in one go.

  “I’ll show you what I do to women that has them shamefully begging.”

  Suddenly, his hand comes down on my ass.

  I yelp in shock. Jesus Christ, he spanked me.

  “Do you like this, Miss Carrigan?” He slaps my ass again, making my body rock up and down.

  I push away from the wall, but he won’t allow me to back away.

  “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere. You wanted me to touch you then let me put my hands all over you.”

  “Not like this …” I whimper as he smacks me again.

  “Yes, like this. You might deny it, but I can tell you’re that kind of lady. Someone who enjoys being conquered.” He groans. “What a nice round, perky ass. Cherry colored as well. My favorite.”

  “You should see it when it’s not painfully red,” I retort in a brief moment of courage.

  He chuckles while spanking me again. “Oh, playing games, are we? I like women who are a little feisty.” He spanks me again, his fingers spreading wide on my ass. “See, now this … this is what I need.”

  He growls as he slaps me again, my skin tingling from the burn. I can feel the burn, and yet it excites me like nothing else. “Didn’t I tell you it was a bad idea to follow me?”

  I know I’m stuck here, but I refuse to believe it was a bad idea. He is Sebastian Brand, and he knows me. I won’t stop until he says he does. However, I never imagined he’d put his hands on me like this. This elevator has us both trapped, and his hands don’t feel like they’re going anywhere else than on my ass right now. I have to deal with this a different way. “I’m sorry, Mister Brand.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it.” He smacks me again. “Besides, since you seemed so adamant on having me touch you again, I figured I’d give you what you want.” He jerks my hair and pushes me further down. “Uh-uh, I didn’t say you could leave.”

  “I never asked for this.”

  “Oh, but you did, Miss. See, that’s the problem. You ask but you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

  I growl, and he laughs in return. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now; it was just starting to get fun.”

  “I’m not.”

  He squeezes my ass, making me squirm. “Pity.”

  The bell of the elevator dings, and then it comes to a stop. We’ve reached the top level.

  His hand leaves my ass, making it feel bare all of the sudden. “Playtime is up. I hope that was enough.”

  Feeling humiliated, I take in a sharp breath while pulling my panties back up and my dress down. “It’s not.” I won’t back down. He might think I’m scared now, but I’m not.

  “Damn, and here I was thinking you wanted me to touch you and that was it.”

  I turn around, frowning, a blush growing on my cheeks from what just happened. “Is that what this is all about? Getting rid of me?”

  He smiles so cheekily, so infuriating, that I growl from it.

  “Aww … are you mad now?” He raises an eyebrow. “I gave you what you wanted. You asked me to need you, and I needed your ass to be red. I have what I want now, so we’re done here.”

  “What? You can’t do this!” I say as he turns around.

  “Actually, I can, and I have. And now you know what a prick I am. So let this be the final time we see each other.” He starts walking out of the elevator, leaving me with a gaping mouth.

  “You just groped me in an elevator and now you leave? Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” he calls back as he walks away.

  “What kind of man are you?” I ask, baffled, as he stops in front of the only door on this level. He places his thumb on some kind of machine, and the door opens.

  “Not the man you were hoping for, unfortunately. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Miss Carrigan. Goodbye.”

  I look down at the floor, utterly shaken, and notice the hundred-dollar bill. I pick it up and throw it at him. “You forgot your money, douchebag!”

  “Keep it!” He waves.

  His voice resounds in my ears as he shuts the door behind him, not even once glancing back at me to check if I’m okay.

  Asshole.

  I never, ever, imagined that Sebastian could be such a huge dick, but he was. I wonder why. I still don’t believe him. Nobody in their right mind would touch me like that. Nobody would spank a stranger. Nobody. This has to be a farce. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but I will find out somehow. After all those nights at the hospital, I won’t give up easily. This is not the last time we’ll see each other, that I�
�m sure of. I’ll make it happen.

  Accompanying song: “Lux Aeterna” by Clint Mansell

  Providence, Rhode Island – April 20th, 2013

  Protection. What does it mean when we protect by hurting? Who benefits? No one.

  I wipe my hand across my face, blowing off some steam. With my back against the door, I ponder what just happened. I did something I never thought I would, and yet I did it anyway. My conscience is bearing down on me, yet I know I did the right thing. I am an asshole, and I know it full well. I just hope she thinks so, too. I hope she saw the anger in my stride as I told her goodbye. She should leave and never come back. I don’t know why she wanted to come to me, but it was the wrong choice, and I made that very clear to her. Maybe pushing myself onto her the way I did, violating her body the way I did, will scare her off. It would be for the best. Being with me is the worst thing someone could wish for.

  I sigh, wondering if I could’ve handled things better. I don’t deny that I enjoyed spanking her. It sparked my arousal, that’s for sure. My cock is still very much erect in my pants, and I can’t say that I wouldn’t want to repeat it. Except that wouldn’t be a wise decision. Not when everything’s at stake. I should forget about how nice it felt to have my hands on her ass and how good it felt being in charge. I can’t remember the last time I craved to be wicked so much.

  It scares me.

  This is not who I am, and yet I know I am turning more and more into a monster.

  I fear my own future.

  Swallowing, I take off my shirt and walk to the shower. I must put my mind on something else. There is much work to be done today, and I can’t be distracted by thoughts of a delicious woman begging for my domination.

  God, why can’t I get her out of my head?

  I face myself in the mirror, running my fingers through my hair. For a young man like myself, I look aged. As if my skin is plastered on and my smile has turned into a permanent pout. I remember her pink, plush lips and the way she gasped. It made me smile. I haven’t smiled like that in a long while, like I was truly enjoying myself.

  Alas, it isn’t meant to be. Whatever she wants, it cannot happen. It isn’t right. I am not a man to hug in bed; I am a man to kill in his sleep. There’s no redeeming quality in me. I wish she’d seen that in our short encounter. I don’t even know why she came to me in the first place.

  Wanting me? How foolish. Miss Carrigan is insane. Wanting me is like wanting death. Nobody desires it. She is truly and utterly insane if she believes I am someone she can mess with. That I would ever provide her something worth having. That I could give her what she needs. Preposterous. I hope she runs … far, far away.

  She doesn’t know me at all. Strangers—that’s all we are.

  I wash my face with cold water, trying to rinse away the layers and layers of depravity that have seeped into my skin. It’s no use. Life is bleak. End of story.

  I open the see-through door in my bathroom and take a long, barely comforting shower. I scrub myself with a brush loaded with shower gel, making sure I clean myself like a man possessed. I shave my chin until it’s smooth and put on a few dots of aftershave. Like a robot, I put on my long-sleeved button up shirt, making sure there are no wrinkles. I put on the freshly ironed pants that Conchita, my housekeeper, prepared for me and pull a belt through the loops. I pin my pin button and adjust accordingly. Securing my black laced shoes, I glance at myself in the mirror and am semi-content with what I see. Near perfection—albeit for a few wrinkles in my Colbert, which I quickly brush out. With some gel, I tuck back my hair until it’s smooth, and there is nothing left of me in any way or shape.

  I am always conforming, bending until I fit whatever mold is required. That is where I am now. A flexible ghost-like shell of the man I used to be—someone who knows his responsibility and carries it out without objection. This person … I hate him.

  I adjust my tie in the mirror before I grab my suitcase and proceed out the door.

  I still feel dirty.

  Heinous.

  Monstrous.

  And it will never end. Not until they die.

  Meeting Room, Genesis. Providence, Rhode Island – April 20th, 2013, afternoon

  The temperature in this clubroom plummets by about fifty degrees the moment they step inside. ‘They’ meaning the men I’ve had ‘business’ relations with for over a decade. I say business, but it really isn’t business at all. It’s more personal than anything. They’ve wormed their way into my life until there was no going back. I should’ve seen it coming long ago, but that’s easy to say in hindsight. Evil doesn’t begin to describe what I’m dealing with.

  “Good day, gentlemen.”

  “Hello, Sebastian. Good to see you’ve arrived early,” Arthur says as he slides his hand over his slick, gelled-up hair. Even now, almost in his forties, he still looks like he’s twenty. His grouchy voice always annoys me, though, and the way he squints as he watches me talk unnerves me like nothing else.

  “I didn’t want to disappoint you,” I say, smiling as I turn around to face the drinks I was preparing.

  “And you got us some Cognac, too. What a pleasant surprise,” Hubert roars with laughter, scratching his stubbly beard. “Seems the boy finally learned to appreciate what he’s got.” His grey hair is messy and all over the place as he takes off his scarf.

  His comment makes my stomach churn, but I try to ignore it as I poor the Cognac and set all five of the glasses on the table. The men undo themselves of their coats. One of them always needs help—Lewis, the short, bald one. He has a back problem ever since he ‘sprained’ it during a session. Patrick is the one who never speaks but silently listens and assists with everything that needs to be done. He prefers books over the real world, although occasionally, when we take on the ‘assignments’, he enjoys spending time with actual people. He’s the one who resembles me the most.

  As the men sit down in the comfortable, cushioned throne-like chairs, I grab a cigar box and hold it out to them.

  “Oh, Sebastian, now you’re spoiling us,” Arthur chides.

  “Just trying to keep you all in good spirits.”

  Hubert grabs a cigar from the box, and I offer to light the tip. “God, I needed that.”

  I smile pretentiously as I offer them all a cigar, which only Patrick refuses. For a while, there is silence between us as we gaze at one another. Smoke drifts through the room, but it doesn’t make me avert my eyes from him—Arthur—the one who started this all.

  “I had a lot of fun this morning,” he says.

  “Hmmm …” I nod.

  “Messy, though,” Hubert says, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

  “Yeah, the room is quite … useless in the state it’s in right now.”

  I don’t need more comments to know where this is going. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Arthur smiles, but it’s not a genuine one. It never is. “Good.” He diverts his eyes to Lewis. “Did you finish your assignment yet?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been struggling to find the right one.”

  “Just pick one. There are plenty. Look around. It’s not that difficult,” Hubert scoffs after taking a sip of his Cognac.

  “Mind your own business. I want the perfect one,” Lewis spits.

  “Wow, no need to get aggressive,” Arthur says.

  “This game is no fun if I don’t get to decide how I play it,” Lewis says in his old, croaky voice.

  “Got a point there,” Arthur agrees, looking at Hubert.

  He rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

  Arthur now glances at Patrick. “You?”

  Patrick only shrugs and takes a book from under his seat and starts reading it.

  “Since everyone is okay with it, we’ll grant you an extension.”

  “Lovely,” Lewis says, taking a sip of his Cognac while shaking his head.

  “So, you are all done reading?” I ask.

  “Yes, boy, we could use a few new ones,” Lewis says. “I’m ready for
more once I finish this assignment.”

  Arthur laughs. “Look at that, old man, trying to catch up with us.”

  Lewis just gives him a short smile. “Hmmm … one would be proud to reach the age I have. It’s not a gift given to all men, especially not those who walk on a slippery slope such as yourself.”

  “Touché.” I laugh, but my joking response seems unappreciated. I clear my throat and get up from the chair. I walk to the cabinet and grab the stack of books on top, which I brought with me in my suitcase. “I’ve selected these books for you.” I hand each one to the respective recipient. “You asked me to choose for you, so I hope you’re all happy.”

  Hubert squints. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No?” I say hesitantly.

  He throws the book on the table so hard the Cognac from the glasses splashes onto the tables. “Rubbish. Get me a different one.”

  “What do you want?” I ask, the weight of his response to my pick bearing down on me. I knew this would happen, but I had hoped he wouldn’t mind reading something a little more gentle this time.

  “Give me something exciting.” For an oldie, he sure has some spirit. “Something with a little horror in it.”

  Oh no, here we go again.

  How long are they going to keep this up? How much further can it go?

  I wonder if it can even get any worse.

  His eyes hold a gleam as Hubert points at a specific book on the top shelf. “That one.”

  I swallow when I notice which book he’s pointing at. That one. He says it so carelessly as if he’s forgotten what’s inside. He’s read the synopsis before, when Lewis showed it to him. He knows this book contains the most devious, sickening scenes I’ve ever read. And still he wants it, knowing full well what the consequences are.

  You shall never refuse to complete an assignment, even if you chose the assignment yourself.

  That mantra is plastered on our wall.

  If that’s what he wants, that’s what he’ll get.

  Once you’ve chosen, there’s no going back.