Sweet Captivity

by Julia Sykes

I had feelings for him. On a rational level, I had to acknowledge that they’d been building within me for weeks.

  But love?

  It was insane. He was a dangerous drug lord. How could I share a life with a man like him?

  I hadn’t thought about a future with him before. I’d just been living day to day, vaguely planning my escape with waning enthusiasm.

  I didn’t see how I could be with him in any real way.

  And that made my heart twist in my chest.

  There was one obvious way out of this that I could see, but it put him at risk: I could pretend to work for Cristian, and I’d get a message back to my friends at the Bureau. They’d come in to rescue me, and they’d arrest Cristian for abducting me.

  They’d also want to arrest Andrés.

  I couldn’t let that happen. I might be able to arrange immunity for him if he turned on his brother, but that wasn’t a guarantee.

  I could also try convincing Andrés to give me access to a phone, so I could call my friends. That way, I wouldn’t have to face Cristian at all.

  It still wouldn’t guarantee his safety, though. I couldn’t see how to get back to my life without betraying Andrés.

  But the idea of going back to my life without him in it made my chest ache. I wasn’t ready for my time with him to end, even if I didn’t want to stay locked in this penthouse forever.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his fingertips brushing over the furrow in my brow.

  I blinked and propped up from where I’d been resting against his chest.

  “I thought you were asleep,” I said instead of answering.

  “I was, but I could hear you thinking.” He gave me a languorous smile and stroked my hair back from my cheek. “You do have a very busy mind.”

  “Let me guess. You’re going to help me make it go all quiet and blissful?” I was only half-teasing. That sounded kind of nice right now. It would free me from my inner turmoil.

  “I can, if that’s what you need,” he said. “But I like your clever brain.”

  “You do?” He’d never openly expressed admiration for my intellect before. After our games of chess, I’d come to suspect it, but he’d never said it outright. It made my heart do a funny flip. I’d worried so many times that he saw me as nothing more than a pet, but actually respected me as an intelligent woman.

  “Of course,” he replied. “You challenge me. I find you fascinating. Did you not know?”

  “I…” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “No. I guess I didn’t know that. Not for sure.”

  “I should tell you more often, then.”

  He was being so sweet. I just wanted to melt into him, to feel his weight settle over me as he drove deep inside me, connecting us intimately.

  His fingers curled beneath my chin, lifting my face so he could study my expression. “Did I make you sad?”

  “No,” I said, my voice catching. “That… means a lot to me.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because I don’t want to leave,” I whispered. “I don’t want to leave you, but I should.”

  His jaw firmed, his eyes flaring. “You’re still thinking about how to escape?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I mean, yes. I mean, I want to get out of working for Cristian. I don’t want to spend my days locked in this penthouse, fearing the day your brother comes for me. And if you really value my mind like you say you do, you won’t want that for me, either.”

  He scowled. “This is the safest place for you. You should fear Cristian. This is the only way I know how to protect you.”

  “This isn’t the life I want,” I said, desperate. “I can’t stay trapped in a cage forever. I need to do something meaningful. I need to help people.”

  “You’ve been reading too many comic books. You can’t be a superhero, Samantha. You’re far too breakable, and I won’t put you at risk.”

  “I can be a hero,” I informed him, anger rising. “I used to do it every day, before you took me. I had a life. I had purpose.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and rolled, settling his heavy weight on me so I was pinned beneath him. “Your life is with me now,” he said, his voice rough. “And my purpose is to protect you.”

  “You won’t be able to keep me from Cristian forever,” I tried to reason with him. “Let me call my friends at the Bureau. If you go into hiding before they come for Cristian, I can cover your tracks. They won’t find you. You’ll be safe.”

  “And what about you?” His black eyes burned into me. “Where will you be while I’m in hiding? Will you go back to your friends? To your Dex?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I whispered, torn. I didn’t want to go back to my life without Andrés.

  “You’re mine,” he snarled. His cock was hard against me, pressing at the entrance to my sex. “And you’re not going anywhere. Not back to your Dex. And not to my brother. You belong to me.”

  “I’m yours,” I agreed. “But I can’t—”

  He crushed his lips to mine, silencing me on a warning growl. My body heated for him, and I softened under his onslaught. My pussy grew slick with arousal. As soon as I moaned against his mouth, he thrust into me in one brutal, possessive stroke.

  He fucked me hard, claiming me in deep, merciless thrusts. My body welcomed his ferocity. Because I didn’t want him to let me go. I didn’t want to return to my old life and have Andrés disappear forever.

  I couldn’t yet see a clear path to a future with him, but I knew I didn’t want to lose him. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him impossibly deeper, welcoming his harsh claim over me.

  Chapter 21

  Andrés woke me early the next morning with a soft kiss against my neck. I turned my head, offering him better access. He rumbled his approval, the sound humming against my sensitive skin as he nipped at me. I pressed my ass back against his erection in wanton invitation, my body awakening for him before my mind was fully aware.

  “It’s time for your punishment,” he murmured against my neck.

  “Punishment?” I asked sleepily, not at all alarmed by the threat. “Why?”

  “You tried to escape,” he reminded me, but he sounded more aroused than upset. “That was very naughty, gatita. I’ve owed you a punishment for days.”

  “Oh. Okay,” I agreed, knowing he needed this from me. After almost losing me, he needed to see me bound and begging for him. And I needed it, too. I felt guilty and foolish for thinking he didn’t care about me, especially after our last few days of intense intimacy. A little pain and his forgiveness would absolve me.

  He kissed the tender spot he’d bitten. “Good girl.”

  He gave me a few minutes for my morning routine, and I emerged from the bathroom with my teeth brushed and face freshly washed. He was waiting for me, his powerful body on full display where he stood at the threshold to the sitting room. He held out his hand, beckoning me toward him.

  “Come.”

  I crossed the bedroom and placed my hand in his, allowing him to lead me to the playroom. I knew pain was coming, but my body heated at the prospect. He’d conditioned me to enjoy a little pain. Or maybe I’d always been built this way. I’d gotten aroused when he’d spanked me the first time, on the day I woke up in his bed after my capture, scared and confused.

  I wasn’t scared anymore. Not of the pain, and not of Andrés.

  I followed where he led, trusting him implicitly even as we entered the room that had once terrified me. We came to a stop at the far wall, where he kept a multitude of implements designed for my torment hanging in neat, orderly rows.

  He selected a length of crimson rope, and I shivered in anticipation. I’d come to love rope: the slightly earthy smell of hemp, the rough fibers that stimulated my sensitive skin. I felt secure when he bound me so thoroughly. He often used leather cuffs to strap me down, but rope was more intimate, methodical. Almost artistic. I was his to mold and shape, to bend and stretch into whatever position he desired, making
me into something beautiful to be admired.

  I took a deep breath and released it on a long, shuddering sigh as he began to wind the rope around me, forming a familiar harness around my chest. He took extra time and care to create a pretty lattice pattern above my breasts, turning my body into his work of art.

  When he was finished tightening the rope around my chest, he drew my arms behind my back, binding them together from shoulder to wrist, until my back arched and my breasts stood out proudly, my nipples peaked and throbbing for his attention.

  He tied off his work and took another length of rope, feeding it through the large metal ring bolted into the thick wooden beam above my head. He then looped it through the bindings on my arms, pulling them up behind me so I was forced to bend at the waist. My breaths came faster, shallower as carnal need began to take hold of all my senses. I spread my legs without him having to issue a command, wantonly offering my wet pussy to him.

  Satisfied with my helpless state, he knotted the ropes in place and stepped back. He took a long minute to admire me, but he didn’t touch me. I whined for his attention, but he returned to the wall to select the next item for my punishment.

  He held up the shiny set of rubber-tipped nipple clamps so I could see them clearly. A chain dangled between them, decorated with little red gemstones. It was pretty and perverted and perfect. I wanted the pinch of the clamps, the pull of the swaying chain as he toyed with it. I wanted him to take full control of my body; my pain, my pleasure.

  He came back to me and lightly cupped my breasts, his calloused fingertips barely skimming my flesh as his palms kissed my tight, aching nipples. I tried to lean into him, but the ropes kept me trapped. The sense of helplessness I had once feared now sent me soaring, granting me the sweetest release. I put myself fully in Andrés’ domineering hands. I was his to play with, his to punish, his to cherish.

  He began to roll my nipples between his fingers, preparing me for the harsher bite of the clamps. When I whimpered and wiggled, torn between wanting relief and craving more, he caught my tight peaks in the clamps. I cried out as he turned the screws on the sides, slowly increasing the pressure to ensure they’d stay firmly in place when he tugged on the chain that connected them. I hissed out a breath and struggled to adjust to the pinch.

  As I settled into acceptance, euphoria flooded my mind. He flicked the gems that dangled from the chain, and it swayed beneath me, tormenting me sweetly. I moaned, and my eyes slid closed as my head dropped forward, my weight sagging into the ropes that held me so securely. They shifted around me, tightening and caressing, embracing me.

  I felt his heat recede, but my eyes remained closed as I drew in short, panting breaths. As my chest rose and fell, the chain tugged at my nipples. Every little hit of pain sizzled through me, sending scorching lines of pleasure straight to my clit. My inner thighs grew slick with my arousal, and my core contracted, eager for him to fill me.

  I sighed in bliss when I felt the snap of the crop against my ass. He started slow, peppering my flesh with little sharp slaps, the smooth leather tongue leaving bright patches of heat everywhere it landed. My skin warmed and tingled. Little sparks danced over my flesh, crackling up my spine to flood my mind with bliss.

  Suddenly, he cracked the crop hard against my upper thigh, a harsh, punitive stroke. I cried out at the rush of pain, but I didn’t try to move away. I welcomed it, craving the absolution he offered.

  “Never leave me again,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

  Another blow cracked across my thigh, stinging and burning.

  “You don’t get to leave me. Never leave me.” There was something desperate in his harsh tone, yearning mingling with command.

  “I won’t,” I promised, tears of release spilling down my cheeks. “I won’t leave you. I love you.”

  The blows stopped, and the crop clattered to the ground. Both of his big hands curled into my ass, spreading my cheeks wide.

  “Say it again,” he ground out.

  “I love you.” The soul-deep truth left me on a sob. “Please, Andrés.”

  He snarled and slammed into me, his cock thrusting deep into my wet channel. “Tell me,” he demanded, driving into me with ruthless, branding strokes. “Tell me again. Don’t stop.”

  “I love you!” I cried out as he thrust into me mercilessly. “I love you, I love you…” The words left me in a litany, over and over again as his cock dragged across my g-spot, driving me higher. He reached beneath me and pinched my clit.

  “Andrés!” I screamed out his name as I shattered. His raw shout echoed around us, and his cum filled me, marking me as his. He kept pounding into me, riding out the last of our pleasure with brutal force. I welcomed his claim over me.

  Finally, he stopped, completely spent. He withdrew from me and carefully removed the clamps from my nipples. I whimpered when blood rushed back to the abused buds, but he soothed the sting away with gentle fingers, morphing the pain into pleasure.

  He cut me down, severing the ropes that bound me. He supported my limp body and eased us down to the cool tiled floor, holding me tight.

  “Mine,” he murmured, tracing the contours of my body as though seeking to memorize every inch of me. “All mine.”

  I kissed his neck, tasting my tears on his skin. The salt mingling with his unique flavor was intoxicating. Better than any drug. I licked at it, craving more. A low, rumbling sound left his chest, vibrating against me. The sensation rolled through my body, making its way to my core. Despite the rough way he’d fucked me, my pussy wept for him, wanting him again.

  I shifted in his hold, straddling him. He stiffened for me, needing me as desperately as I needed him. I boldly lowered myself onto him and captured his lips, welcoming him to claim my mouth the way he’d claimed my pussy. I moved against him, slowly sliding up and down on his shaft. His hands captured my waist, guiding me to take him faster, deeper. We found our bliss together, our sweat-slicked bodies entwined as closely as possible.

  I screamed out his name, my fingernails scoring his back. I gave him everything, but at the same time, I claimed him as well, marking him.

  I loved Andrés, and he was all mine.

  Chapter 22

  Andrés left me with a promise to return in a few hours. He was going to see Cristian to convince him to give me more time. Despite my devotion to Andrés, I couldn’t bring myself to help with his business. And he wouldn’t ask me to. In the beginning, he’d been determined to make me cooperate in order to protect me, but we were past that now. He promised he wouldn’t force me to do anything that went against who I was.

  Because he cared. He cared about me, not some version of me that did exactly as he said. I wasn’t his doll. I wasn’t his pet. I wasn’t his fucktoy.

  He might not have told me he loved me, but I could feel it in the reverent way he held me, the way he called me his. I knew he’d lost the people he loved in the past. He wasn’t ready to say the words aloud, because he was afraid he’d lose me, too. I was still targeted in Cristian’s crosshairs, and I didn’t expect Andrés to admit his feelings for me until I was safe. Until he was certain his sadistic brother wouldn’t take me away like he’d taken Andrés’ beloved sister and grandmother.

  So for now, I was content with his branding kiss, with his harsh claiming of my body. His possessive touch communicated all the things he wasn’t ready to say to me.

  I still didn’t understand how we could have a future together, but I resolved to come up with a solution. I needed to push aside my worry and focus on formulating my plan.

  Not worrying was difficult when I knew Andrés was facing his brother right now, defying him in an effort to protect me. I didn’t particularly enjoy feeling like a damsel locked in a tower for safekeeping while my dark knight fought my battles. But without a computer, I really wouldn’t have been much help in a fight.

  I resolved to ask Andrés about that when he returned. Now that there was trust between us, he might allow me access to his laptop. I c
ould take down Cristian’s organization piece by piece, destroying his financials and leaving him utterly ruined.

  But it was Andrés’ livelihood, too. And although I knew he didn’t approve of the Bliss and human trafficking, that didn’t mean his hands were clean. I’d become convinced that he had a good heart, but he’d never known anything but a life of violence and crime. Circumstance had twisted him into a cruel monster on the surface, but I’d seen the damaged man at his core, the boy who had lost everything. His scars ran deep, and although he wouldn’t like to admit it, he feared his brother. He was as much a captive in his dark life as I was in this suite.

  I just had to convince him that I could help set him free, if he’d let me. He might not be able to take on Cristian, but I could do it for both of us. A few clever keystrokes would bring his entire empire crashing down.

  I was only idly turning the pages of my comic book out of habit as my mind was absorbed in plotting Cristian’s downfall. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been skimming through the story without reading when Lauren arrived with my lunch.

  I sat up in bed, covering myself with the sheet. I still wasn’t comfortable with anyone but Andrés seeing me naked, even though Lauren had seen everything already.

  She didn’t even look me in the eye today. I suspected her jealousy of my relationship with Master Andrés might be growing into resentment. Not to mention the fact that I’d recently attacked her.

  Without a word, she handed me the morning after pill and a glass of orange juice. I’d taken the birth control shot a few days ago, but it wasn’t guaranteed to be effective immediately, and Andrés hadn’t been using condoms with me. I didn’t want him to, anyway, so I’d accept the slight nausea that came along with the pill. I really wasn’t ready to get pregnant.

  I drained the glass of juice and handed it back to Lauren. She finally looked me in the eye. Her lovely face was drawn with anguish.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  I blinked at her. “Why? Because of Andrés? I know you care about him. That’s okay.” I didn’t begrudge the woman her admiration of my captor any longer. I understood everything she’d claimed about him. He was kind. He was a good man, deep in his soul.