Claiming My Sweet Captive

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Claiming My Sweet Captive Page 7

by Julia Sykes


  “Are you sorry for scratching me?” I asked evenly.

  She managed a little whine, and she nodded as best she could with my hand around her neck.

  I kissed the hollow beneath her ear. “Good girl. Don’t do it again.”

  I reinforced my edict by pressing forward, sliding my finger deeper inside her. She squirmed slightly, but she could barely move with my body trapping hers against the wall. The little wiggle of her hips only eased my way in, her tight ring of muscles gripping me hard.

  I finally released her throat, and I had to catch her around her waist as soon as she drew in a deep gasp. The rush of oxygen would make her head spin, and she sagged in my arms.

  That didn’t spare her from her lesson in humility. If anything, her vulnerable state only helped drive home the message: she was powerless to resist me. She would be a meek, good little fucktoy; utterly obedient and devoted to me.

  I slid my middle finger into her soaked pussy, impaling both of her tight holes as I braced my palm on her ass to support her weight.

  Something between a defeated sob and ecstatic shout tore from her throat, and her inner muscles convulsed around me. I pumped into her gently as she shuddered in my arms, her orgasm claiming her with shameful force. She loved everything I did to her, despite what she might want to tell herself. Her body told the truth. Her mind would come to accept the irreversible reality of our Master/slave dynamic.

  When she began to tremble and went quiet, I decided to give her a reprieve. I released her from my disciplinary hold and quickly cleaned up before shutting off the water.

  I lifted her in my arms again, noting that her eyes were closed. If she thought she could hide from me by floating in darkness, she was mistaken.

  For now, I’d allow her mind to drift. She wasn’t fighting me or sassing me, so I’d permit her this moment of peace.

  Her eyes squeezed more tightly shut when I began to run a fluffy towel over her sensitized skin, drying her with tender care. Her chin tucked closer to her chest, and her cheeks colored. She might be trying to shut me out, but she was thoroughly aware of her shameful defeat.

  Chapter 6

  When I was satisfied that the droplets of water had been dried from Samantha’s skin, I laid her down on the bed so I could dry my own body. After a moment’s hesitation, I slung the towel low over my hips. I’d spare her more contact with my cock until later. For now, I needed to take care of mí sirenita. Her brow remained furrowed, and her knees lifted close to her chest as she curled up protectively on the bed.

  She didn’t need protection from me. I’d prove that to her.

  I sat on the edge of the mattress and lifted her back in my arms, positioning her so she was curled up in my lap instead of on the bed. She was stiff in my hold, but she remained upright when I released her, leaning into my chest slightly for support despite her rigid spine.

  I picked up the hairbrush I’d brought from the bathroom and began to carefully work it through her damp hair, smoothing the tangles I’d created when I’d wrapped the fiery strands around my fist. She let out a little sigh, the fine lines easing from her brow as she softened slightly, leaning deeper into me.

  “I’m not a doll,” she grumbled, but there was no bite in the words. Her eyes remained closed, but she slowly melted against me as I continued to stroke the brush through her hair, allowing the bristles to stimulate her scalp.

  “Hmmm,” I mused, pleased with her submissive posture. Her weak attempt at defiance was cute. “You’re not a pet. You’re not a doll. Is there anything you do want to be, sirenita?”

  “What does that mean?” she asked instead of answering my question.

  I decided to let her evasiveness slide. She likely didn’t have an answer for me, anyway. She wasn’t ready to admit that she enjoyed being my pretty plaything, even if she had just shattered twice under my hands.

  “A literal translation would be little mermaid,” I replied.

  Her eyes finally opened, but they were narrowed as they searched my face. “You mean, like the Disney princess?”

  I chuckled. “It’s an endearment. It means I find you beautiful.” I traced the line of her lower lip with my thumb, and my voice dropped to a deeper register. “Sensual.”

  She blinked up at me, doubt darkening her pale eyes.

  “You don’t believe me,” I surmised. “Do you think my cock would get so hard for you if I didn’t want you? You are lovely, sirenita.”

  “You’re trying to manipulate me,” she accused. “It won’t work.”

  “It already is working.” I didn’t avoid revealing the blunt truth. It didn’t matter if her clever mind had identified the motivations for my actions. That wouldn’t make them any less effective. “I’m not lying when I say I find you beautiful. But everything I do to you is a manipulation, and I won’t pretend otherwise. You’re being very sweet and well behaved right now. If I’d known how obedient you’d become when I played with your ass, I would have filled it sooner. You came so hard for me. I thought you were going to pass out. I think you enjoy being manipulated, being shaped into my good girl.”

  She scowled, but she didn’t so much as tense in my arms. “You’re a bastard.”

  I smothered my own frown, remembering her needs. “That might be true. But you will learn to speak to me with respect. There’s a consequence coming for that, but right now, you need to eat.”

  She pursed her lips, clearly debating if it was worth arguing with me. “Okay,” she finally agreed, hunger winning out over stubbornness.

  I reached around her and tugged at the wheeled cart that Lauren must have brought while we were in the shower. I’d asked the girl to tend to my quarters. I wouldn’t risk inviting another man near Samantha for any reason. Lauren had enough tact to know not to enter my bedroom while my captive was moaning in ecstasy. She’d waited until we moved into the bathroom to deliver our food.

  I removed the silver dome covering the plate, and the rich scent of salty steak wafted toward us. Samantha’s stomach rumbled, making her cheeks color with embarrassment.

  I already knew she hadn’t eaten anything today, so there was no shame in her body’s natural reaction.

  She grabbed the jug of water on the tray and filled a glass, quickly tipping it back and gulping down the cool liquid.

  I frowned my disapproval. “You didn’t drink anything today, either?”

  “I thought you might drug me again.”

  “And you believe I won’t now?”

  She shrugged. “I figured that steak is huge enough for two people. There are two glasses, one water jug. So, I’m assuming that you’re not going to drug yourself too, you know?”

  It seemed she was capable of exercising logic and reason when it came to my intention to care for her. Even if she hadn’t trusted me before, she now compliantly sat naked in my lap as she poured another glass of water and drained half of it. When she reached for the utensils, I grasped her hand, redirecting it to her side. I also took the glass from her and set it down on the tray.

  I was going to show my sweet pet that I’d always see to her needs. She didn’t have to take care of herself, because that was my job. She was no longer allowed autonomy in even the simplest tasks.

  “Do you really think I’m going to let you handle a fork and knife?” I asked drily.

  She glowered at me, but she didn’t try to grab the potential weapon. “I just want some fucking food. I’m starving.”

  My scar tugged down as my expression drew into harsher lines. “I will train your tongue later,” I warned. “And I’m sure you’re hungry, which is more pressing than your punishment. I will always see to your wellbeing, Samantha, but don’t continue to test me.”

  “I wasn’t going to use the knife on you,” she said, her voice clear with honesty. “I just want to eat.”

  “I’m going to take care of you, cosita. Trust me.”

  She snorted. “You’re not really giving me a choice. Is it trust if you don’t have a choice? Proba
bly not. No, I don’t think it is. Nope. Definitely not.”

  I studied her for a moment, my lips curving into a smile despite my efforts to maintain a stern mask. “Do you always speak this way?”

  “What way?”

  “You talk very fast. Like you’re speaking every thought that pops into your head as it comes to you. Are you doing it because you’re nervous around me? Is this the same as why you don’t like looking at people?” I needed to figure out what made her tick so I could better manipulate her, but truthfully, I found her fascinating.

  “I mean, I guess,” she admitted. She shifted in my lap, but she didn’t drop her eyes in discomfort at my scrutiny. “But I don’t talk like this because I’m nervous. Well, I guess it’s worse when I’m nervous. I just have a lot of thoughts, and they kind of pop out, like you said. My brain is really busy all the time. Like, my thoughts never slow down. I can’t focus on only one thing at a time, unless it’s really challenging.”

  “You focus on me quite intently.” My smugly satisfied grin held a savage edge. “Does that mean you find me challenging?”

  “It means I find you terrifying,” she retorted, but she wasn’t trembling in fear anymore.

  I laughed. “Such a feisty gatita. You’re not terrified. Not like you should be. Then again, I suppose I haven’t shown you what I’m fully capable of yet.” My grin sharpened, and she shrank back a little. My arrogant laugh boomed through the room, filling the space in a shock of sound. The strangeness of it sobered me. “I promised to feed you, and it’s getting cold.”

  My arms bracketed her body as I reached for the knife and fork. I cut the steak into several bite-sized pieces before shifting the utensils into one fist. I didn’t think Samantha would go for the knife, but I’d err on the side of caution. She’d proven to be unpredictable, which I found delightful. Although I didn’t believe she was capable of doing any real damage after the razorblade incident, it wouldn’t hurt to silently communicate that she had no chance of resisting me.

  With my free hand, I picked up a piece of steak and lifted it to her lips. She turned her face away, her eyes lifting to mine.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Feeding my pet. Aren’t you hungry, gatita?”

  She blew out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But only because I’m hungry, not because I’m your pet.”

  “Can’t you be both?”

  “No.”

  I chuckled. She really was adorable, and it wasn’t worth arguing with her when she’d already lost. “Eat.”

  She didn’t defy me this time. Her lush lips parted, and I placed the steak on her tongue. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head, and her low moan went straight to my cock. Her lips closed around my fingertips, sucking them clean. I’d come less than half an hour ago, and already she stirred my lust for her.

  “You like carne asada?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

  She pulled back, flicking her tongue over my fingertips before releasing them.“I like meat,” she replied, seeming oblivious to the obvious innuendo. “All kinds of meat. If it used to moo, I’ll definitely eat it. This is so good. I want more.”

  “Greedy and savage,” I remarked with amusement. “You can have as much as you want.”

  “I’m not savage,” she mumbled. “I couldn’t even kill you properly.”

  “No, you couldn’t.” The small scratch on my chest from her pathetic attack with the razorblade was evidence of that. “I don’t think you have it in you. That doesn’t mean I’ll give you access to a knife anytime soon, though.”

  “I’m a trained field agent,” she said, defensive.

  “Not a very good one.” It was a simple observation, not an insult. I was pleased with her sweet nature, and I wouldn’t mock her for her tender heart.

  “I shouldn’t have transferred from tech analyst,” she lamented instead of taking offense.

  “Probably not,” I agreed. “My brother has his own tech team. They looked into you. By all accounts, they were very impressed. It’s why Cristian let you live.” My levity melted at the thought of my brother. I didn’t like mentioning him around her. I didn’t want her thinking about him at all.

  “Because he wants me to protect him from the FBI,” she said glumly. “He wants me to save his miserable life.”

  “He does,” I responded in a monotone. “And you will. It’s my job to make sure you do. You won’t do it for Cristian, but for me. I want you to stop thinking about my brother and start thinking about pleasing me.” I needed to shift her focus back to me, or my possessive ire would break through my controlled façade. She belonged to me, not Cristian.

  “And you can start by finishing your meal,” I directed.

  “You’re the one who insists on feeding me one tiny piece at a time,” she complained.

  “If you’d stop sassing me, this would go faster,” I drawled, her fiery streak distracting me from my mounting anger.

  She narrowed her eyes at me in an attempt to communicate displeasure, but the annoyance was wiped from her features as soon as I resumed feeding her. It seemed she couldn’t hold on to her indignation when succumbing to the simple satisfaction of a good meal, especially when she hadn’t eaten all day.

  When she finally turned her face away to indicate that she was full, I tucked into what was left of the steak. She’d devoured more than half of it, but I didn’t begrudge my savage little pet’s appetite. I’d enjoyed feeding her from my hand as much as she’d enjoyed the meal.

  I finished the steak and set down the utensils before shifting her off my lap. “Stay.” I squeezed her hips to reinforce the command.

  She didn’t budge as I wheeled the cart out of the bedroom and into the sitting room. No need to tempt her by leaving the knife right beside the bed.

  I returned to the bedroom and shut the door behind me. She’d stretched out on the mattress, and she blinked at me slowly as I approached. She appeared relaxed. Exhaustion from her tumultuous day seemed to be dulling her desire to resist me.

  As much as I liked seeing her sleepy and sated in my bed, she needed to take care of the few essential needs I’d allow her to handle on her own.

  I grasped her hand and pulled her upright. “Go brush your teeth and wash your face.”

  She grumbled as I tugged her to her feet, but the sound quickly morphed into a yelp when I swatted her ass. “Go on.”

  She trudged into the bathroom, and for a few minutes, the sound of water running drifted through the closed door.

  She paused when she re-entered the bedroom. “You got a new razor,” she remarked, puzzled.

  I fixed her with a level stare. “And you didn’t break it apart and attempt to cut my throat. I don’t need to worry about you trying that again, do I?”

  She dropped her eyes and shifted on her feet, looking like a child caught doing something she shouldn’t. “No,” she replied, her voice small.

  “Smart girl,” I said with satisfaction. “Come over here.”

  I pulled back the covers, gesturing for her to get in.

  She didn’t move toward me.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Putting you to bed.”

  Her lips tugged down at the corners. “I’m not a little girl. I don’t need you to tuck me in.”

  My small smile met her slight frown. “Must you be so difficult about everything? You seem to love contradicting me.” I patted the mattress. “Do you want a spanking before bed, or are you going to be a good girl for me?”

  She huffed out a frustrated breath and closed the distance between us. “Only because I’m tired,” she said petulantly as she slipped beneath the sheets.

  “If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” I allowed. “One way or another, you obeyed me, Samantha. That pleases me.”

  She rolled onto her side, facing away from me. Her knees curled up to her chest again in a protective gesture. Undeterred, I pulled the covers over her, tucking her in. I lingered for a few minutes longer s
o I could stroke her hair, lulling her into relaxation. She softened, and her breathing turned deep and even as she fell into sleep.

  Satisfied that exhaustion would keep her under, I stepped into my sweatpants and left the bedroom. I didn’t like the loss of her gentle heat, but I had work to do.

  I could wait to fulfil my darker plans for her. I suspected she’d soon make a futile attempt to escape me.

  I shoved aside thoughts of the punishment she had coming. Whenever she tried it, I’d paint her ass red. I’d finally get to see the marks of my whip on her pale flesh. Then, she’d learn what I was really capable of.

  I almost regretted the prospect of taming the defiant streak out of her.

  Almost.

  The image of her kneeling at my feet and obeying my every command was far more enticing than her little shows of fire. Soon, her pretty eyes would glow with devotion, not defiance.

  Chapter 7

  Hours later, I returned to the bedroom. I’d indulged in a few games of online chess after finishing my work for the day, but I’d actually lost twice. It was a rare occurrence, but I’d been distracted by thoughts of my lovely captive sleeping in the next room.

  I stripped and got into bed with her. She let out a little disgruntled groan when the mattress dipped. My first instinct was to pull her against my chest and pet her until she fell back into a deep sleep.

  After holding her for a short while, I smiled into the darkness. If I woke her, she might try to sneak out while she thought I was sleeping. I wasn’t tired at all, despite the late hour. The prospect of taking her in hand kept my blood pumping hot and fast in my veins.

  I closed my eyes and rolled away from her, jostling the mattress a little. She made another sound of sleepy irritation, so I pretended to snore softly to rouse her further.

  I heard her breath catch, and I smothered another smile. My little pet was awake. Would she do something naughty?

 

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