“Okay,” she whispered and smiled sleepily back.
“When you escaped, you sent a message. Is this correct?” he asked.
“No,” she said immediately, enjoying the way he sifted his fingers through her hair.
“You didn’t send a message?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Yes, I did, but I didn’t escape.” Was that her voice? It sounded all garbled, like she was trying to force it through a long hollow tube. “You let me go. Remember?”
She felt a vibration run through his chest and thought maybe he laughed. “Okay, sweetheart. I let you go. Fair enough to say you ran amok and caused some damage. Now, please tell me what the message said.”
She tried to reach up and touch his face. It was such a handsome face, with a gorgeous chiselled jaw, meant for fingers to slide along when it wasn’t knotted in anger or concentration. She pulled on her hands, but they were restrained. She frowned and tried to look behind her only to discover that her head was swimming and unable to swivel back the way she wanted it to go.
“Whoa!” she gasped.
He readjusted his hold on her and gave her a little shake. Her gaze snapped back to his face and locked on his fascinating jaw. “Focus, Jaya. What did the message say?”
“Riiight…” She thought about it and then said, “They were coordinates to your location and a message that I was attempting to get off the island.”
“So you knew about the strike?” he asked sharply.
“No,” she denied and wiggled in his arms trying to touch him again. “Would never want all those people to die. But I knew he wanted you dead, thought maybe he’d find a way to come himself.”
“Who is he, Jaya?”
“Father,” she whispered.
He gripped her jaw and forced her head up so she was looking right at him. The storm in his eyes was brewing up to something big, something terrifying. “Your father is dead. Who is the man that sent you to me? Give me a name,” he demanded.
“Father,” she said again, her voice drifting as the dark fuzz surrounding him began to take over her vision.
His fingers clenched into her cheeks, hurting her. She whimpered and shifted her shoulders wanting to push him away. His grey eyes bored into hers as if trying to reach into her skull and yank the answers from her brain. She couldn’t even remember what they’d been talking about. It had been a pleasant conversation until he got all intense and annoyed. She frowned, Ivan was always intense and annoyed though, he needed to loosen up, take some of whatever he gave her. She was drifting on clouds and he was leading her, talking way nicer than usual.
“Am I going back in the cage?” she asked, her voice wavering and her eyes closing.
Just before she fell asleep she heard him say, “You will always be my caged bird, Jaya.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jaya moaned and rolled over. Her head felt like someone was beating it from the inside out. She reached up and grabbed it in both hands to stop the crazy spinning. It helped a little, but then she realized her hands were free of restraint. She pried an eye open, slid her arms down to eye level and double-checked. Yes, she was no longer handcuffed. She shoved a fistful of thick, dark hair off her face and looked around. She was laying on a king bed, filled with fluffy blankets, located in a big, airy room. It was similar to the one on Ivan’s island, except there were dark red hangings covering the balcony door, which she figured must be open since the hangings were fluttering in the breeze.
Jaya pushed herself up and sat. Her wrists jingled. She looked down and saw several gold bands interwoven together and wrapped around both of her wrists. She held her left one up and examined it. The bracelet was beautiful, intricate and barbaric. Very much an Ivan gift. And there didn’t seem to be a visible latch.
“Hello Ms. Jaya,” a soft voice said from near the door.
Jaya nearly jumped out of her skin. She glared suspiciously at the newcomer, an older woman, probably in her early eighties, sitting in a chair. She had dark brown skin, darker than Jaya’s and steel grey hair, pulled back in a low ponytail. She wore a blue dress with an orange and red scarf wrapped around her thin shoulders. On her lap sat a content looking Haty.
Jaya narrowed her eyes at the kitten. “You’ll go to anyone that cuddles you,” she grumbled and said under her breath, “Lap slut.” She scanned the room, cataloguing escape routes. The woman was definitely no obstacle. She was fairly surprised that Ivan hadn’t tied her down or put her in a cage. Hadn’t she proven to him on the island that she was dangerous when left to roam free? Oh well, his bad. If he couldn’t learn, then he’d have to deal with the consequences.
Jaya was in the process of sliding off the bed when a slight pain hit her arm, jolting her. She hissed and grabbed her arm over top of the bracelet. Her quick mind instantly figured out what had happened. Her gaze snapped up to the woman who was calmly holding a device in her hand. It looked like a smart phone. Jaya’s mouth fell open and her eyes bulged.
“Why you sadistic old bitch!” she snarled and lunged out of the bed, intent on grabbing her kitten and taking the frail looking octogenarian down. The lady zapped her again, harder this time, hitting both arms. Jaya growled and grabbed her other wrist. “Stop doing that!”
“You need to sit down, young lady, and start listening,” the woman said calmly. She placed Haty on the floor, who ran to her mistress and began frantically jumping at her, not at all pleased with the shouting. “Mr. Ivan was very clear that you were only to be disciplined in extreme circumstances. He will not be pleased about this at all.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what Mr. Ivan wants,” Jaya yelped, cradling her wrists against her chest, the kitten held firmly under her chin. “You’re both insane. Everyone he associates with is insane! You fucking electrocuted me! What will his evil mind come up with next? That’s it, back to plan A, stab the shit out of him and get the fuck out of this madhouse.”
The woman nodded sympathetically. “You are understandably upset, I can see that.” Jaya rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to start shouting again, but the lady held her hand up. “But let’s not make it worse with words and plans you cannot take back. Please keep in mind that you are holding precious kitty, who will also get the zap if you must be brought to heel.”
Jaya saw red and nearly lunged for the woman despite knowing she was in for a nasty shock if she did. The old woman seemed to sense Jaya’s precarious mood because she took a firmer grip on the device and put a soothing hand up. “I am not here to harm you, Miss Jaya, simply to ensure you adhere to Mr. Ivan’s rules. This way you will not be able to escape and bring harm to yourself again. Nor will he have to cage you anymore.” Jaya opened her mouth, then closed it and lifted her wrist, shaking it significantly. She raised an eyebrow. The woman sighed. “You believe your cage has merely changed, perhaps become crueller even.”
Jaya growled and stalked to the windows, shoving the hangings viciously to the side. The bright Indonesian sun streamed through the open doors, flooding the room. Jaya blinked several times, her face smoothing into a look of awe as she faced Jakarta from what, as far as she could tell, was the top of an extremely tall luxury high-rise. Looking down, she saw two more tiers before the high-rise seemed to drop off. Men that clearly belonged to Ivan were patrolling the floors below her. He must own at least three of the top floors of the building if not the entire thing.
She stiffened as she felt the woman come to stand beside her. “Ivan can be a cruel captor. In fact, from what I have heard, he usually is,” she said softly. “But you are different. And it’s not his captivity that is the problem, but the cage you’ve built within your heart and mind. He only seeks to protect you.”
Jaya turned away and let the hanging fall back into place. “That’s some kind of steaming pile of shit. You don’t know me.” She glared down at the old woman before shoving past her and stalking toward an open door she suspected led to the washroom. At least she hoped it did and wasn’t about to get her ass shocked
again. “The second I find a way to electrocute that psycho, we’ll find out just how much he enjoys a dose of his own protection.”
Jaya made another awful discovery while she was showering in the ensuite washroom. She was running a bar of soap over her shoulder when she touched a sore spot. “Ouch!” She frowned, set the soap in the tray and explored the tender spot with her fingertips. She wasn’t totally surprised given the way she’d been tossed around by Ivan, the helicopter crash and the exploding castle. But this didn’t feel like a bruise, it felt like a small cut with a bump underneath the skin. A suspicion took root in her mind and she decided to find out if she was correct.
She rinsed, turned the taps off and stepped out of the beautifully carved, stone shower stall. She wrapped a bath sheet around her body and swiped her hand over the condensation obscuring the mirror. Turning, she balanced her ass on the counter and tried to look at the back of her shoulder. When she couldn’t quite see it, she tried gathering her wet hair around one hand and wiggling closer. She yelped in dismay when her hair tangled painfully in her new bracelet and she started to fall into the sink.
Strong hands gripped her waist, stopping her fall. Her eyes flew up to meet Ivan’s clear grey gaze. She opened her mouth to yell at him, to tell him how much she despised him for everything he’d done to her and was continuing to do to her. He bent his head and captured her lips, thrusting his tongue into her open mouth. She made a sound of outrage and tugged on her hand to shove him away but ended up pulling painfully on her own hair. He held her by the back of the head and continued to kiss her while using his other hand to extract her hair from the bracelet. As soon as the strands were free she tried to give him a push but he took her wrists in his hands and pulled them behind her back, holding them firmly in one hand.
She tore her lips from his. “I hate you,” she growled angrily. “You’re a monster.”
“I know,” he said and swooped in, shoving her head back against the mirror so she couldn’t retreat from his kiss again. His lips were warm against hers, his tongue like hot, smooth steel forcing its way into her mouth and conquering the territory within. She wanted to deny him, but her resolve began to melt as arrows of heat shot through her, stealing her breath and her denials.
She could feel the familiar swirls of heat swooping and curling within her belly, begging her to open up to him, to accept his kisses, the sweep of his hand across her body. She moaned and tried to jerk her legs closed when he stepped between them, shoving his hips in, and forcing her legs wider. It was like magic, the way he could touch her, seduce her and make her forget the horrors he could play out with his hands and his mind. He kissed a path down from her mouth to her throat, to her chest. He tugged the bath sheet until it fell away, revealing her breasts. He latched onto her nipple and sucked.
“Ahhh,” she moaned and relaxed the tense muscles of her legs, resting them against his muscular thighs. “I-Ivan,” she gasped wiggling on the counter, trying to get closer. She accidentally hit her shoulder against the mirror. Pain streaked through her and she cried out.
He lifted his head, frowning. “What is it?”
“It’s the goddamn tracker you put in my back, asshole,” she snarled, tugging to get her wrist free so she could feel the bump again. “It hurts!”
Some of the heat from his eyes cooled. He kept his grip on her wrists, holding them tight behind her waist. He tilted her forward, into his chest, pushed her hair to the side and examined the wound. “It’s healing. You’ll be fine.”
“Fuck you!” she yelled up at him, her face inches from his. “I’m not fine. You’re an evil murdering monster, and every move you make just proves how fucking bad you are.”
He stared down at her, his eyes glacial. She could tell that he was affected by her words, even though she was certain he’d been called much worse in his life. She knew that very little affected Ivan, yet it seemed she had a substantial effect on him. Her words were like poison darts. She opened her mouth to keep up her tirade, to threaten him, but he cut her off.
“I may be a monster to most people, but I’m also the man that holds your life in his hands, Jaya,” he said quietly. “I believe that someone placed you in my organization, close to me. Perhaps even conditioned you to hate me. But, sweetheart, the important thing is… I don’t hate you. Because if I did, you would be dead.”
She flung her head away from him, glaring. She didn’t know how he could possibly know the things he did about her. She was positive she hadn’t told him these things, not even when he’d drugged her. It was like every step they took was a chess move. Stalking each other across a board, one move forward, a step to the side and then pounce. How could he know that Father had been spewing venom about Ivan Vogel as long as she’d known him? Somehow Ivan had guessed.
“I don’t think my little Victory hates me as much as she professes,” Ivan said, his voice deepening.
“Don’t call me that!” she snarled, jerking in his arms.
“I’ll call you anything I want,” he said, his voice a deep purr. “You belong to me. My prize, my victory.”
His hand dropped down to the rounded curve of her belly, through the patch of hair at the center of her thighs and into the soft folds. She jerked against him but was forced helpless, knees splayed wide by his hips. She felt a blush steal across her face as his fingers found the wetness he sought. She tried to close her legs, buck him away from her, but he leaned closer, pushed his fingers further down the inviting folds of her dripping pussy. “You are so very wet for me Jaya. Hate me all you want, sweetheart, your body isn’t lying.”
She yelled curses at him but opened her knees wider when he continued to glide his fingers over her, flicking her clitoris with his thumb. He spoke words of endearment to her in different languages, assuring her of his intent to hold and protect her. She alternated her angry tirade with moans of pleasure until she could feel her orgasm begin to build and she abandoned her anger, begging for the peak that seemed just out of reach. Ivan released her wrists.
Jaya immediately reached to shove him away, but Ivan held up the zapper. She glared at him and held her hands up. He tucked the device back in his pocket, took her hands and placed them on the counter. He took her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the counter with her feet still up. She tried to wiggle back, not liking how exposed she was, but he gripped her by the waist and yanked her back.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“Or what?” she asked, her voice acidic. “You’ll zap me?”
“No, you’ll miss out on a life-altering orgasm,” he said matter-of-factly, dropping to his knees between her legs. The breath whooshed from her lungs and she tried to look down at him, but the moment she did he went to work. Her eyes rolled back, along with her head and she no longer cared about escape, locator chips or electrocution bracelets.
She felt him slide long fingers inside her vaginal passage. More than she could comfortably take, three at least. It was nearly painful at first, but as soon as she felt his hot, rough tongue glide over her clit she forgot her own name, along with the discomfort of too many fingers inside her body. Her legs began shaking and sounds she was pretty sure she’d never made before erupted from her throat. Just before she could leap off the cliff of her orgasm, he tore it away, like the meanest Santa ever. She shrieked angrily and reached for his head, determined to shove him back between her legs.
A jolt shot up her arm and she immediately slammed her hand back down on the counter, shouting, “You evil bastard!”
He chuckled and continued the pressure within her pussy, rubbing and pressing until she was ready to jump out of her skin. He alternated whatever he was doing with his hand and fingers with his tongue, swirling and gliding it over her clit and sucking at the juices that were flowing freely from her. A part of her brain, still fairly innocent and inexperienced, wanted to cringe in horror at the decadence he was introducing her to. The purely sexually selfish part of her wanted to take hold of this mind-blowing orgasm h
e was treating her to with both hands and hug it forever.
She approached the peak of wherever he was taking her so many times she was a sobbing mess by the time he allowed her to have the shiny rainbow-coloured super orgasm. He pressed something hard against her g-spot, nearly making her tear a chunk off the counter with her fingernails.
“Now, Jaya,” he commanded and flicked his tongue hard against her clit while pressing into her g-spot.
Jaya came with a shriek, her body bowing off the counter, a rush of fluid soaking the hands and tongue of the man beneath her. He caught her as she fell, supporting her back and head so she wouldn’t get hurt on the way down. He cradled her neck and held her for a moment, their eyes meeting. She expected softness. She was wrong. She met only glacial iciness and determined possession.
“Tell me who you belong to, Jaya,” he demanded.
She opened her mouth to deny him, but her lips were shaking and no sound came out. Every part of her was still shaking. She licked her lips and shook her head. He growled and lifted her off his lap, standing with her. He turned her around and bent her facedown over the counter, holding her with a hand on the middle of the back. He unbuckled his pants and pulled the zipper down. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw a face flushed with hunger. She looked up at him and saw another face filled with determination and the need to stamp his dominance. A part of her wanted to deny him, to tell him she belonged to no one. But she knew it wasn’t true. She’d always been a commodity. Besides, every particle of her being was screaming for his possession. She wanted to feel him inside and all over her.
He bent his knees to accommodate her shorter height, lined himself up behind her and pushed into her. She gasped as his thick cock pushed its way deep inside her body, filling her completely. Despite her orgasm and the wetness that coated her pussy and thighs, she still felt the burn of his entry. It felt beyond amazing. She pushed back against him, the plush curves of her ass hitting his carved abdominal muscles. He groaned, gripped her waist and began stroking himself inside her, using her silken passage to find his own pleasure.
Capturing Victory (Driven Hearts Book 3) Page 14