Sweet Captivity

by Julia Sykes

  “Nothing.” I waved him off, not willing to further examine my conflicted feelings, especially not with my captor.

  His brows drew together. “Don’t lie to me,” he warned

  He reached for me, grasping my waist and positioning my body so I was seated in his lap, the way we usually shared meals. He didn’t bother trying to keep the cutlery from me anymore. I eyed the knife and fork where they sat on the tray beside my huge plate of bacon. I could just grab the knife and…

  My stomach turned before I could even begin to visualize Andrés’ blood spilling onto my hand.

  “Cosita?” he prompted, waiting for my honest response.

  I tore my eyes from the knife and focused my gaze on him. “I am a little upset this morning,” I admitted. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He cupped my cheek in his big hand, his dark eyes studying mine intently, as though he could see straight into my soul.

  “You don’t have any secrets from me,” he said, but his tone held a note of strain. He wanted me to share with him, even though he was trying to command me to open myself up and give him everything.

  I was starting to understand him, but it seemed he might be coming to some revelations of his own. He was beginning to realize he couldn’t force my devotion, even if he could condition my obedience.

  “Please,” I whispered. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

  That was the truth. When I saw pain stir in his eyes, an illogical yearning to erase it rose up within me. Laying all my tangled emotions bare for both of us to see would only cause more hurt and confusion.

  “You do have a very busy brain,” he said, pressing a tender kiss against my forehead. “If your thoughts bother you, let me put them at ease.”

  I knew Andrés was capable of making my mind go quiet. I’d found peace in his ropes, under his masterful hands.

  And that power he held over me scared me, even as his touch aroused me.

  He leaned in to capture my lips with his.

  I turned my face away. “Wait.”

  He frowned and lightly gripped my jaw to hold me in place. “No. I know what’s best for you. You’re upset. I’m going to make you feel better.”

  “You can’t just kiss me and make everything okay,” I told him, even as my head tipped back slightly, my body already surrendering despite my protest.

  “I can. But I don’t have to. I can distract you from your thoughts in other ways, if you don’t want me to kiss you.”

  He shifted my body in his lap, turning me so my back pressed against his chest. He hooked my ankles around his calves and spread his legs, opening my thighs wide. One hand tangled in my hair and tugged to the side, exposing my neck. His teeth sank into my sensitive flesh, the flare of pain making my sex clench. He held me trapped in his harsh bite as his free hand skimmed over my breasts, his palm teasing my peaked nipples.

  I cried out as sensation assailed me, my entire body lighting up with awareness. He growled his approval against me, and the sound rumbled over my skin, making it pebble and dance.

  He finally released me from his bite, running his hot tongue over the little indentations his teeth had left in my skin. I moaned and tipped my head farther to the side, offering him better access to my neck. He pressed feather-light kisses along my throat, up to my ear before nipping at my lobe. His hand left my hair to trail down my waist, over my hip, moving down between my legs. He suddenly slapped my exposed pussy.

  I shrieked at the sting that bloomed on my flesh, and I tried to close my legs. He bit down on my neck again and kept me spread wide, his legs keeping mine splayed apart.

  I writhed, my ass grinding against his thick erection. He spanked my pussy a second time, and I whimpered, accepting that I couldn’t fight him.

  His bite eased, and he resumed kissing my neck sweetly, even as his harsh hand smacked my tender labia. I groaned as dark pleasure settled over me, my thoughts floating away as I became lost to sensation. I was powerless to escape him, and bliss began to pulse through me as I slipped into submission.

  “Are you still upset?” he murmured, his lips teasing the shell of my ear.

  “What?” I struggled to gather my wits and focus on forming a coherent response. “No. I’m not upset. I’m…” I trailed off on a low moan when he traced around my clit in a little circular pattern.

  “Horny?” he finished for me. “Does your wet little pussy want to be filled after being spanked?”

  “Yes,” I begged on a ragged whisper. “Please.”

  Suddenly, the world spun as his strong hands maneuvered my body. When everything settled into place, I found myself lying back on the mattress, staring up at him. The sight of him towering over me in his suit made lust pulse through my system. I remembered how alluring he’d been when he’d stood over me last night, wielding a crop.

  He grinned down at me with savage pleasure. “I do like when you look at me like that, sirenita.” He reached for his zipper and freed himself from his slacks. I licked my lips, and he growled in satisfaction. “Are you as hungry for my cock as you were last night?”

  I nodded, my mouth watering for him.

  “But what about your pussy?” he asked, his voice dropping deeper, rougher. “I could have fucked you last night. But you weren’t aware enough to know what you would be agreeing to. You weren’t capable of knowing what you were begging for.” He began to stroke his shaft. “This is what you’re begging for. I’m going to fuck you, Samantha.”

  Some of my euphoria ebbed, trepidation burning into my bliss. My body might be aching for him, but I wasn’t ready for this.

  Was I?

  “You have to beg me,” he said, his black eyes boring into mine as he imposed his will. “Beg me to fuck you.”

  “Andrés…”

  Please teased at the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. I didn’t want to lose my virginity like this: begging my captor to fuck me. It was twisted and wrong, and it felt like defeat. My arousal soured as I was reminded of the early days of my captivity, when he’d told me how he’d subjugate me.

  “I can’t,” I said, my voice small. “I don’t want to. Not like this.”

  He stared down at me, his jaw working. His dark eyes shuttered, and he abruptly tucked himself back into his slacks. I could still see his cock straining against the expensive material, but he turned sharply and started walking away from me.

  “Wait,” I called out. “I didn’t mean…”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I hadn’t meant it when I said no?

  That wasn’t right. I’d definitely meant to refuse.

  What I hadn’t meant was to hurt him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my eyes burning.

  My mind registered that it was fucked up that I was apologizing to my captor for preventing him from taking advantage of me. But that didn’t make my sense of guilt abate.

  He stopped in his tracks and stiffly turned back to me. For a moment, my heart leapt. I thought he was coming to kiss me, to hold me and tell me he’d never ask me to debase myself for him again.

  Instead, he picked up my collar where it already lay on the mattress, chained to the bed and waiting for me. Without a word, he locked it around my neck.

  He turned to leave, but I caught his wrist in the strongest grip I could manage.

  “Wait,” I asked again. “Don’t leave like this. I didn’t want to upset you. I just… I can’t give you what you want.”

  He turned back to face me, his face carefully blank. “I won’t force myself on you,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. I pulled his hand toward me and pressed my lips against it, softly communicating everything I didn’t know how to put into words. I wasn’t sure how to express what I was feeling, but I knew I didn’t want to hurt him.

  He blew out a shuddering breath, and the tension melted from his powerful body. He leaned down and brushed a kiss across my lips, a silent apology.

  “I’ll see y
ou tonight,” he promised.

  He pulled his wrist free from my grip and walked out of the bedroom, leaving my body and my heart aching for him.

  Chapter 17

  “A board game?” I asked, nonplussed. “You want to play a game that involves an actual board?”

  Andrés’ dark brows rose as he set the chess pieces out between us, white for me, black for him. “Is there some other kind?”

  “You’re kidding, right? How about World of Warcraft? You know, something with multi-layered storytelling, cool effects, and kick-ass heroes?” I gestured at the board. “Who’s the hero in this game? What’s the story? There isn’t one. It’s just us, staring at some funny pieces that don’t have any special abilities at all.”

  “Chess is a battle of wits. It’s just you, against me. But you can be the hero in this scenario, if you want.” One corner of his lips tipped up in an indulgent smile.

  I considered making a quip about him being the perfect real-life villain, but I held it back. Mostly because it hit too close to home, and I didn’t want to hurt him. He might be my captor, but I was coming to see him as more than that. Andrés wasn’t an evil man, even if he was holding me against my will. He put my needs first, in his own weird way. Even when he was obviously desperate to fuck me, he held back. After I’d refused to give him my virginity a few days ago, he hadn’t pressed me for it again. Instead, we split our time between reading comic books and playing kinky games.

  Tonight, he had a much more vanilla, much more boring game in mind.

  Chess. Ugh. So analog.

  “You don’t have to look so disdainful,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll teach you how to play. If you really hate it after a few games, we can stop. I’ll warn you now, I will win. So don’t let that deter you from enjoying the game.”

  “You’re a little cocky,” I remarked drily, reaching for my queen to examine the exquisitely-carved pieces. They were worn from age and use, but the quality of craftsmanship was still discernable.

  “I’ve been playing for years, and it’s an impossibility for a new player to beat someone with my kind of experience.”

  “Who says I don’t know how to play? They do have online chess, you know. I’ve dabbled. I know the rules, even if I do find it boring.”

  He grinned. “Knowing the rules won’t prepare you for playing against me, but it will certainly make these first few games more interesting. How advanced are you? Who taught you how to play?”

  “An online tutorial taught me how to play. I get the rules and know some trickier strategies. I pick things up quickly.”

  He shook his head. “A tutorial isn’t going to prepare you for playing against me, but show me what you know, and we’ll go from there.”

  I was starting to get irritated. Didn’t he value my intellect at all?

  “Why bother playing chess with someone when you think they won’t be able to beat you?”

  “Because I believe you will be able to challenge me, just not in the first few games. Or even the first dozen.”

  I eyed him, considering. His response allayed my irritation. Just a little. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to play a game that Andrés would certainly win. He already won all of our kinkier games.

  Didn’t he?

  If attaining multiple orgasms is me losing, I guess I don’t mind.

  I shook it off, focusing in on the current challenge.

  “How long have you been playing?” He’d assessed my skill level. It was only fair that I do the same.

  He picked up one of his knights, stroking the edges of the piece. It was a familiar touch, something he seemed to be doing without realizing. “This was my first chess set. I got it for my tenth birthday. That’s when Abuela taught me how to play.”

  “Abuela?”

  The ghost of a smile flickered around his lips before giving way to something harder. “My grandmother.”

  “Oh.” I could tell from his suddenly tense demeanor that she’d passed away. I hadn’t meant to pry into painful topics.

  He placed the knight back on the board, and his dark gaze focused on me again. “White goes first,” he prompted me.

  “I know.” He’d given me the slight advantage, presumably because he thought he’d defeat me so easily.

  Well, too bad for him, I’d picked up some pretty sweet strategies, even in my dabbling. I wasn’t being overly-proud when I said I was a quick study. It was just the way my brain worked. A little bit of internet research had told me some of the strongest opening moves.

  Since he’d made the mistake of letting me play white, I’d checkmate him in six moves.

  I moved my pawn from E2 to E4.

  Andrés studied the board, then made his countermove. It didn’t affect my strategy at all.

  Okay, maybe this was going to be fun, after all. He’d been so cocky with all that talk about how I didn’t have a chance at beating him. I was really looking forward to seeing his crestfallen expression when I made him my bitch.

  This felt almost as good as winning a battle in World of Warcraft. Maybe even better, because this was Andrés I was defeating, not some anonymous person online.

  I took a minute to pretend to consider my next move, even though I was about to win. It would be even more satisfying to take him by surprise.

  I moved slowly as I placed my bishop on C4, trying to make it look like I was hesitant about my choice.

  Andrés’ face remained impassive. He sat for a full two minutes of silence before making his next move.

  Usually, I would have found such a long wait boring, but anticipation sizzled through me.

  I didn’t bother to hold back when I maneuvered my queen to attack his pawn. I clicked it down on the board decisively.

  Andrés grinned, and my heart did a funny flip. That sharp, arrogant smile made something flutter low in my belly.

  He knew.

  “Scholar’s Mate,” he observed. “I’m impressed. You did study properly, cosita.”

  He moved his knight to F6, blocking me.

  His black eyes glinted as he captured me in his steady stare. “Now, we can play.”

  “When did you realize my strategy?” I asked.

  “I suspected on your first move. I knew by the second.”

  “But you didn’t try to stop me.”

  “You were so cute, trying to fool me. I thought I’d let it play out for a few moves. You’re not capable of lying to me, Samantha. You can’t play dumb with me, either. I know you better than that.”

  I flushed with pleasure. Did Andrés really respect my intellect? He’d proven he cherished me in his own way, but I’d never thought he might care about my mind. So far, he’d seemed more interested in my body. Even though he’d expressed that he wanted me to be happy, that wasn’t the same as respecting me.

  “Who do you play with?” I wondered who usually was capable of challenging him.

  “Believe it or not, I do play online mostly. There’s not anyone here I’m interested in playing against. It doesn’t compare to sitting across from your opponent, though. Studying you is part of the game.”

  “You play online? I thought you only got on your laptop to work. There’s like, no technology in this penthouse. I never even see you with a phone.”

  “I don’t like to be easily reached once I come home. This is my space. And if you’re worrying that I’m wasting my time playing chess while you’re tied up, don’t. I’d much rather play games with you. I really am taking care of my business in the evenings. This is the first time I’ve played a game in weeks.”

  My mind chose to skip over the topic of his business. Instead, I focused in on the fact that he’d chosen to play chess with me. He could just tie me up and toy with me. He could fuck my mouth and take his pleasure from my body, even without taking my virginity.

  But he was choosing to play chess with me instead. What had seemed ridiculous and boring at first now made my chest warm.

  Andrés valued me as more than his plaything.


  “Don’t be too disappointed when I win this game,” he continued. “I really am impressed with your knowledge of chess. But I’ve known Scholar’s Mate for years. Valentina beat me with it half a dozen times before I caught on.”

  “Who’s Valentina?” Something ugly stirred in my gut at the thought of him playing with another woman.

  His face hardened again, the same way it had when he’d mentioned his grandmother. “My sister.”

  I’d managed to pry into some secret pain again. “I’m sorry.” Guilt nipped at me, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what I was apologizing for. “You lost her?” I asked quietly.

  “Yes,” he bit out. “I lost her.”

  “How—”

  “It’s your move,” he said tersely, a clear warning not to press him on this topic.

  I nodded and moved a pawn, not really focusing on my choice. I was so caught up worrying over the fact that I’d upset him that he managed to beat me in five more moves.

  He barely took the time to say “checkmate” before putting the board away.

  “Can we play again?” I asked timidly.

  He blinked and focused on me for the first time since I’d asked about Valentina’s fate. “You want to?”

  “Yes. I’ll do better next time. I know I can beat you.”

  A half-smile tilted his lips, and my heart squeezed. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “I have another game I want to play with my clever gatita.”

  He hurt me that night. He made sure I enjoyed the experience, but he still left marks on my skin. My tears seemed to calm the dark mood that had settled over him.

  I gave him my tears willingly, hoping that by shedding them for him, I could ease some of the pain that he kept locked inside.

  Chapter 18

  Andrés kept beating me at chess. But I persevered, if for no other reason than the fact that I liked watching his brow furrow in intense concentration when I actually managed to outmaneuver him. He was clearly a master strategist, which shouldn’t have surprised me, given the way he’d handled me over the last few weeks. He seemed to anticipate my every move—in chess and in the kinkier games we played.