by Julia Sykes
She shook her head.
My lips curved in a satisfied smile. “Kinky virgin. When I decide to allow you to speak again, you’ll tell me every depraved thought you’ve ever had. I knew we’d get along.”
Her needs suited mine perfectly. She obviously had some interest in domination and submission. And while she probably had a pretty fantasy of BDSM in her head, she didn’t yet understand the pleasure she’d find in a true, complete power exchange. She didn’t get to hide behind safe words, and her distress wouldn’t save her from my dark desires. Nothing would prevent me from bending Samantha to my will. I would master her and turn her into my sweet, compliant slave. She’d live to please me.
The prospect of earning her unconditional devotion stoked my lust, making me ache to claim her.
If I couldn’t claim her tight pussy tonight, I’d take control of her mind instead. I wouldn’t relent until she was completely lost, completely under my power. Samantha might be clever, but my will was stronger than her formidable intellect. She’d shatter under my whip, and I’d put her back together again, shaping her into the pretty plaything I desired.
My thoughts were becoming more sadistic as I fell into the intoxicating headspace I could only achieve through asserting dominance. I’d been deprived of this for so long. It had been years since I’d toyed with a submissive woman. And none who had come before had been as enticing as Samantha. She was mine to keep, to covet. To pleasure and punish. I was greedy for the sound of her pained cries, the sight of her reddened flesh.
I took a step back, so I was positioned behind her. I swung the flogger down in a slow arc, allowing the falls to slap lightly against her ass. They slid over her round cheeks, black tendrils standing out in stark contrast to her porcelain skin.
“This is going to hurt,” I warned. “It’s supposed to hurt. One day, I’ll show you how good it can feel. But not tonight.”
I delivered the first real blow, landing the whip hard on her ass. I hadn’t warmed her up, and she shrieked into the gag. I paused, watching as she struggled against her restraints in a fruitless effort to escape the pain that bloomed beneath her skin; the deeper burn that followed the initial sting.
She craned her head back, her watering eyes pleading for mercy as her high whimper caught behind the gag.
“Your eyes are so lovely,” I murmured, barely aware that I spoke the words aloud.
I wanted those shining tears to spill down her cheeks.
I lashed at her again, twice in rapid succession. Her chest heaved on a sob.
I had no intention of granting her a reprieve from the whip, but I wanted to take a minute to admire her. My fingers trailed over her heated, reddened flesh. She whined at the sting of my gentle touch, but she would take so much more.
“So pretty and red,” I remarked.
I gripped her ass hard, digging my fingertips into her soft cheek. “I want to see my fingerprints on your ass tomorrow. The bruises from the flogger will remind you of your punishment, but this marks you as mine.”
I increased the pressure of my cruel hold, and tears finally streamed down her cheeks. Calm settled over me, and I drew in a deep, cleansing breath.
Releasing her, I stepped back and swung the flogger down again, not giving her a moment to collect herself. She threw her head back and screamed into the gag. The sound only stoked my savage satisfaction. Her tears, her screams, were for me. I possessed her body, controlling her pain.
I spread out the burn, lashing at her upper thighs as well as her bottom. After a while, her screams turned to ragged shouts, before subsiding to soft whimpers. She quivered, her tense muscles reaching the point of exhaustion from jerking against her bonds. Finally, she went limp against the bench, her tears falling onto the leather as she cried silently.
“Good girl.” My voice came out deep and smooth. She was slipping into full submission. I just had to push a little more. “Accept your punishment. You know you’ve earned it.”
She wouldn’t try to escape me again. Not after this. Her behavior would be modified, her misguided thoughts of freedom eradicated.
Her breathing began to even out, her features going slack as her eyes turned glassy. She’d hit the quiet, peaceful headspace that could only be obtained through complete surrender. In the future, she would come to crave this release. I’d train her to love it.
I stopped whipping her, allowing the flogger to drop to the tiled floor. I began to unbuckle the straps that held her down, my fingers lingering on the pink marks they’d left on her creamy skin. Hardly aware of what I was doing, I murmured soothing words in my native tongue, telling her how pleased I was with her, how well she’d taken her punishment.
She was a ragdoll in my arms as I lifted her up, cuddling her close. Her tears wet my skin, and I relished their warmth as they slid down my chest.
By the time I carried her into the bedroom, she’d fallen into sleep. I tucked her under the covers and got into bed beside her, pulling her back flush with my chest as I shaped my body around hers. My cock was still semi-hard, but my lust was subsiding. I’d achieved a deeper satisfaction than any orgasm could give me. I possessed the beautiful creature in my arms.
With that knowledge, I followed her down into peaceful, contented sleep within minutes.
Chapter 8
I shifted on my feet as the elevator ascended to my penthouse, anxious to get back to Samantha. I’d avoided my brother today, but I’d still had to “oversee” a transaction with the Latin Kings to push Bliss into the Chicago clubs. My presence was meant to intimidate, my scarred face a warning to those who might cross Cristian Moreno. I much preferred the days when my work consisted of keeping the books and coordinating meets between key players in our organization. I craved solitude and quiet, not issuing threats when reckless fools reached for their weapons.
Tensions ran high between our men and the Latin Kings. We were only connected by a loose alliance, in which we both profited from trafficking Bliss and cocaine. Our people brought the products into the country from Colombia, and the Kings distributed it on the streets, putting themselves in the authorities’ crosshairs while we remained mostly under the radar.
The revelation that Samantha had been watching our people was troubling. If the FBI was investigating my brother, our position here might be in jeopardy.
It was essential that I secure Samantha’s compliance. We needed her to work against the Bureau to protect us.
My hand twitched at the memory of the whip in my fist as I swung it down on her tender flesh. I couldn’t wait to inspect the marks I’d left on her skin. I’d seen some of the bruises when I slipped out of bed this morning, but they would’ve darkened further by now. The brand might only be temporary, but this first time, I’d savor the evidence of our power exchange.
I stepped out of the elevator and paused in the sitting room. Feminine voices drifted through the open doorway to the bedroom. I’d given Lauren very specific instructions about how to care for Samantha today in my absence, but I’d expected her to be gone by now.
It sounded as though she’d been held up by a heated conversation.
“I’m not going to roll over and give up just because you told me to,” Samantha’s words became clearer as I took another step toward the bedroom. “I’m not going to behave for my sadistic captor who gets off on torturing women, no matter what you say.”
My stomach twisted at her description of me. Perhaps I had been a touch sadistic with her last night, but my measured punishment had been far from torture.
I realized my captive didn’t have the faintest idea what torture truly was. Maybe I should be gentler with her.
I resolved to keep her out of the playroom until she was ready to face it again. Unless she really did something to deserve it. Now that I’d set a precedent for discipline, I couldn’t alter the dynamic between us.
“You don’t understand him.” I recognized Lauren’s girlish voice. “You don’t know him.”
“And you do? Just h
ow well do you know Master Andrés? What did he do to you, exactly?”
Something dark stirred within me when she said Master, but her disgusted tone soured my desire.
“He’s nice,” Lauren insisted.
My heart softened as the abused girl came to my defense. Truthfully, I’d done little to deserve her loyalty. She’d latched on to the smallest kindnesses, finding stability in my stern orders.
I finally reached the bedroom. “Thank you, Lauren,” I said softly, expressing my gratitude for more than her obedience in taking care of Samantha. “You can go now.”
My pretty captive jolted at the sound of my voice, and she jerked the bedsheet up to her chin.
I stepped across the threshold, prowling toward her. “You know you’re not allowed to cover yourself, cosita,” I chided. “Show me your pretty pussy. I want to see it.”
Lauren scurried past me, quickly leaving the penthouse to give me privacy with my pet.
Samantha stared at me, her lips parted slightly as she drew in short, shallow breaths. For a moment, she tensed with indecision. Her eyes tightened, and I assumed she was recalling the punishment she’d faced the last time she defied me. It should still be very fresh in her mind.
Slowly, her fingers fisted in the sheet, and she pulled it down her body.
It seemed she could be taught to obey.
My gaze dropped to her bare cunt. The ginger curls that had protected her from my full scrutiny were gone, thanks to Lauren’s neat work with wax. I would have done it myself, but the blonde girl’s hands were more practiced at this particular skill.
It was enough that she was completely exposed to me.
“Very pretty,” I approved. But there was something else I craved. I twirled my finger as I ordered, “Turn over. I want to see my marks on you.”
She glared at me, but I simply waited, fixing her with an implacable stare. I could forcibly turn her, but this was a test in obedience.
She huffed out an angry breath and rolled onto her front. My scar tugged on a crooked smile as I took in the purple marks I’d left on her skin. She must have felt the lingering discomfort of my discipline all day.
I’d push her a little further.
“On your hands and knees,” I commanded. “Spread your thighs. I want to see my marks and my pussy.”
Her eyes narrowed, her delicate jaw setting into a harsh line. It seemed I hadn’t worked all the defiance out of her.
Truthfully, I hadn’t expected to tame her with one training session. I found myself smiling at the resurgence of her fire. My kitten was adorable when she wanted to scratch.
I didn’t give her the opportunity. I snaked my arm beneath her waist and pulled her up onto her knees.
“Hey!” she cried out, sounding almost surprised.
I smacked her thigh, careful not to strike her bruised flesh too hard. Even though I’d been relatively gentle, she shrieked. I had a feeling that had more to do with indignation than pain.
“You will learn to obey me,” I informed her smoothly. “Spread your legs. Now,” I bit out when she didn’t immediately comply.
She scrambled up onto her hands to support her weight as she reluctantly shifted her knees apart. I kept my arm braced under her stomach, just in case she got any ideas about scrambling away from me.
“Beautiful,” I rumbled, admiring her exposed sex. I wanted to see it glistening with her arousal.
I touched my fingers to her labia, stroking the soft folds. When my thumb brushed her clit, she sucked in a small gasp. Her skin pebbled, and the first signs of her desire wet my fingers.
I let out a dark chuckle. “I think my kitten likes when I pet her pretty pink pussy.”
“Stop,” she begged on a groan. Her hips shifted back toward my hand, and she didn’t bother lying and telling me she didn’t like it.
“But I like petting your pussy, gatita.” She grew slick beneath my fingers, flowering open for me. “You were very well behaved for Lauren, weren’t you? I think you’ve earned another reward.”
I intended to give her an orgasm, but her venomous words forestalled me.
“Is this what you did to her?” she hurled at me. “Beat her and manipulated her until her mind warped? Did she used to hate you before she started worshipping the ground you walk on? Did you—?”
That was enough. She didn’t have the faintest clue what she was talking about, and I couldn’t stand to hear any more. Yes, Lauren was broken, but it hadn’t been by my hand. Even if I hadn’t done anything to save her.
Guilt tinged my anger as I abruptly flipped Samantha onto her back and settled my hand over her throat. I stopped myself from applying pressure, but the warning was clear.
“I’ve never harmed Lauren,” I ground out.
A maddened laugh bubbled from her throat. “You’ve never harmed her? Just like you didn’t harm me when you strapped me down and whipped me after mindfucking me into thinking I had a chance to escape? How crazy are you?”
Cold settled over me, my face shifting to a forbidding mask as I stared down at her. “I never claimed to be sane,” I said, my soft tone more chilling than if I’d shouted. I could hear the menace in it, could feel her trembling beneath me. Samantha obviously didn’t understand what she was dealing with. She thought I was a rational man who possessed the ability to empathize with her plight.
She was mistaken. I felt nothing for her but possessive hunger. I didn’t pity her, and I certainly didn’t entertain any ideas about releasing her when she so desperately wanted her freedom.
“Do you think a normal man wants to take an innocent woman and turn her into his plaything?” I continued. “Do you think a good man wants to bend her will and shape her into his obedient little fucktoy?”
“So you…” She choked on her words. “You did do this to Lauren.”
“No,” I declared, still frigid. “The Bliss broke Lauren, not me.”
Her eyes sparkled. “So, you do want to break me,” she whispered in horror.
A frown curved my lips. She didn’t understand what I was saying. Just because I was a monster didn’t mean I wanted to destroy her. I just wanted to mold her into a different version of herself. A version whose sole desire in life was to meet my every perverted need.
“I told you, I’m going to tame you. I’m going to make you mine and teach you to obey. I don’t want to see you broken.”
“You told your brother you’d break me for him,” she countered, starting to shake in earnest.
My scowl did nothing to ease her mounting fear. I hated when she mentioned Cristian. That was another tendency I’d have to tame out of her.
“My brother likes to break things. He likes to take things that aren’t his and shatter them. If I left you with him, he’d torture you until he discovered what you love most in the world. Then he’d make you watch while he destroyed it. Is that what you’d prefer? That I hand you back over to him?”
Terror clouded her eyes, and tears slipped down her cheeks. “No,” she breathed.
I wiped at the wetness on her face and reined in my anger. My ire was making me lose control, and I was frightening her unintentionally.
“I’m not going to let him break you,” I promised. “He’ll never touch you again. You’re mine now. I will be harsh with you. I will hurt you sometimes. And I will enjoy your pain. But I will never cause you harm, not to your body and not to your heart. Do you understand?”
She closed her eyes and turned her face away from my touch, hiding from me.
I sighed, realizing I really had lost all semblance of control. I couldn’t be around her when I was like this. I might do something I’d regret.
“I can see that you don’t understand,” I said. “But you will. It won’t be so bad, cosita. I’m not so bad.” I murmured the last, the words barely registering in my brain as they dropped from my lips.
I pushed up off the bed, and she shivered on top of the sheets. I didn’t like leaving her alone when she looked so fragile, but I might do
something to shatter her if I didn’t take time to collect myself.
I strode out of the bedroom, hardening my resolve. I allowed my emotions to get the better of me when I was around Samantha, especially when she mentioned Cristian. Training a woman was supposed to give me a sense of control, not lose it entirely.
I recalled the heady sensation of power that had overtaken me when I’d flogged her.
Yes, she needed more of that treatment. I could be gentle with her when necessary, but I had to assert my dominance at all times. She needed to learn who was Master and who was slave.
She would accept her place, even if that meant I had to be more ruthless with her.
I’d never been a warm man. I’d been cold, isolated ever since I was a boy. Samantha’s charms and endearing sass were messing with my usual process. I’d become too attached because she was mine to keep. I’d gotten possessive to the point of obsession, and I’d only had her for a few days.
She existed to give me pleasure. I would teach her where she belonged: worshipping me on her knees.
Chapter 9
“You’re sad,” I observed, studying her drawn features and too-pale cheeks. I tucked her hair behind her ear. I’d almost forgotten how silky it felt beneath my fingertips in the hours I’d been away from her.
I’d thrown myself into work, leaving her all afternoon and well into the evening. I’d needed the time to collect myself, and leaving her chained to my bed was good for her, too. She would have had plenty of time to think about her new role in my home, her new life with me. I’d hoped to find a sweeter, more submissive Samantha waiting for me. I’d anticipated that she’d be eager for my company after thinking about me all day. She wouldn’t have had any other option; the collar around her neck served as a constant reminder of my control over her.
Instead, I found her wan and defeated.
“I’m not sad,” she lied. “I’m pissed.” There was no true spite in the words.
“You’re not angry.” I cupped her cheek so I could study her expression more carefully. Her usually sparkling eyes were dulled, her lips a few shades lighter than the lush pink I’d become accustomed to. “My angry gatita is cute and fierce. You’re sad.”