“Breakfast?”
My brow creased. So far, meals had been a mortifying blend of taking tidbits from his hands and retrieving the rest with my mouth, usually from a bowl placed on the floor. A dark shiver ran along the length of my spine at the memories. Those times were denigrating but undeniably delicious. Heaven only knew why, but my body had betrayed my loathing every time he’d pushed me lower. I hated Sean for belittling me, reducing me to this wet, needy thing he could exploit and toy with, but I couldn’t deny it was the truth. I came alive under his touch, and my senses heightened, waiting for whatever delightfully degrading plan he had in mind next.
“Yes.”
His tone was firm as he signaled for me to leave the bed. I knew without needing to be told where to go, the place he always ordered me when I wasn’t bound—the floor. Slipping from the comfort of the sheets, I crumpled to the ground, relieved it was carpeted.
“You need energy for today.”
Energy? Though I might have been reassured by his caregiving, the notion I needed to be energized was less than reassuring.
“Come over here.”
I lifted my chin to acknowledge the latest command, crawling slowly to where he waited.
“Don’t look so concerned.” Sean chuckled at my furrowing brow. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Easy for you to say. The words sang out in my head as I reached his feet. You’re not the one on your hands and knees.
“Here.” Turning, he stalked a few strides away, and I followed as my gaze drank in the tray sitting on the dresser behind him. Excitement brimmed at the thought of what might be on there. I hadn’t had a proper meal for days. As though he’d just switched on my other senses, the aroma of coffee wafted past my nostrils. “Coffee.” He glanced over his shoulder before lifting the pot and pouring a cup.
My God, was he offering me a cup?
“Er, yes, please, Sir.”
What had come over Sean? In all the time he’d held me, he’d never offered me more than a sip of water. Thirst clawed my throat, desperate for the drink he clutched in his hands.
“Come over here, then.” Pointing to the spot next to his expensive shoes, the corners of his lips curled, and my heart fell. He wanted a show. Not even this alleged luxury would be easy. “Come over here and kneel for me.”
Heart pounding, I lowered my gaze, and pressing one palm into the long pile in front of me, I began my next excruciating journey.
Chapter Six
Sean
NO PART OF THIS GRATIFYING exhibition was necessary. It was true, I wanted her ready for when my driver, Cole, arrived, but it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to decorate her in the attire I’d chosen. Begrudgingly, I had to admit, it was also important to feed and water her. I hadn’t been good at that in recent days, and things had to improve, but even that wasn’t an excuse for the game I wanted to play. It was merely for my enjoyment—the reason I demanded she crawled and waited on her knees—which was always the motivation.
“Good girl.” Spinning back to the tray, I put down my cup of coffee and poured a second. “I hope you like it strong?” Chuckling, I glanced back to her expectant expression. An eager light shimmered in her eyes, evidence of how much she anticipated the hot drink. “Here.”
Facing her, I held the cup over her head. “But first, let’s see you dance for me.”
A flash of anxiety glinted in her gaze. “Wh-What, Sir?”
“Dance.” I beamed, the bewilderment on her face already making me hard. “I’d like you to dance for me. Now, I know it’s not easy on your knees, but you can try. Hands behind your head, and you can swing those wonderful tits.”
Her jaw dropped open, the sight so entertaining I almost dropped the cup.
“Are you serious?” She heaved in a breath as if the room was running low on air.
“Deadly.” Lifting my chin, I tapped my foot. “If you want your coffee and avoid attending the meeting completely naked, I suggest you oblige me.”
“I-I don’t know how, Sir.” Hilary’s breathing was ragged, hands trembling as they rose from her side.
“Sure, you do.” I laughed. “You’ve been demeaning yourself for me for days, gorgeous. This is just another example. So, let’s see it.”
I watched her arms rise, fingers lacing behind her head as she stared at me with wild eyes. Her desperation danced frantically in her appealing gaze. She wanted to fight me, to resist, but she recognized I was a man of my word. If I said she would suffer for her defiance, then she would.
“That’s it.” I waved the coffee under her nose, taunting her with its sweet smell, dangling the carrot she wanted so badly. “If you want it, baby, let’s see you move. Shake those titties for me. Show me what’s mine.”
You bastard! The accusation shone in her eyes, her gaze narrowing, though she didn’t dare vocalize her complaint.
“Why are you making me do this?” Dread radiated from her tone, though even as she stalled, I could tell she recognized the obvious—I would make her, and the longer she made me wait, the worse the outcome for her.
“We’ve been through this.” My tone lowered, conveying how unimpressed I was with her insolence. “I’ll do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.” Checking my watch, my brow arched. “If you don’t get those tits jiggling soon, you’ll be showing them to everyone who has the good fortune to pass you this morning.”
“Oh God.” She hitched in a breath, and although the emotions still warred in her eyes, slowly, her hips began to move. Snaking left and right, they shifted her weight from one side to the next, forcing her chest to move in unison, and while I watched with glee, her glorious breasts danced for me.
“Very nice,” I enthused, taking a sip of her coffee while I enjoyed the show. “Shake them for me.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, but duly, she swayed her body faster, allowing momentum to do its job, sending her breasts swinging in front of her. Crouching in front of her, I placed the cup down between us and pulled my phone from my pocket. A display this fucking perfect couldn’t go without a permanent record. Flicking on the camera, I recorded her, ignoring my aching balls as I zoomed in on her flawless dancing breasts. One day soon, I would slide my cock between that cleavage and come all over her waiting mouth, among many other things. I couldn’t fucking wait.
“Tell me what you’re doing?” I purred, narrating the insanely hot imagery.
“Sir?” Brows knitting, she paused, her incredible show temporarily halting.
“No, don’t stop!” I ordered, and breathing hard, she started wiggling again, my cock hardening with each motion. “Just tell the camera what you’re doing.”
“Dancing for you, Sir.” Her face flamed harder, her burning embarrassment the ultimate aphrodisiac to a sick prick like me.
“Whose tits are those?”
Even I could hear the joy in my voice as I demanded she admit her torrid position, and it was twisted, no doubt about that. I would cater to her every need, but she had to please me first, had to pass the array of perverted tests I laid down for her. Until then, she got nothing. Not even her cup of coffee. She could have taken the drink regardless, could have taken the initiative and attacked me, but gazing into her wide eyes, I reckoned the thought had barely crossed her mind.
Hilary wasn’t trained to take on men like me. Whatever services she’d performed for Morrison hadn’t prepared her for Sean Hyland and whatever onslaught he brought with him. After days of erotic torment, I had her just where I wanted her—eager and responsive to my every wicked request.
“Yours, Mr. Hyland.” She gulped, closing her eyes as if the ordeal was easier if she couldn’t see me—fat chance.
“Open them,” I barked. “And tell me again while you swing my tits.”
Hatred flickered in her gaze as she responded, the sort I was used to seeing in my adversaries, but I didn’t flinch. If the woman who would soon be my wife thought she could affect me with her dirty looks, she had another thing coming. I
could make her the center of my entire universe, but she’d still drop to her knees and perform for me any time I demanded it. Her elevated status as my legal spouse would change nothing about her submission.
“They’re your tits, Sir.” Her voice was strained, her magnificent body bared and degraded. She was utterly divine.
“Okay.” Hitting pause on the recording, I slipped the device back into my pocket and gestured toward the cup on the floor by my feet. “You may stop and drink your coffee before it goes cold.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as arms lowered before she clasped the small white cup.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Enjoy.” I smiled, reaching for my own cup. Draining the remainder of the black liquid, I watched as she sipped hers gratefully. Relief emanated from her pores, her chest still rising and falling rapidly as she claimed her prize. “You earned it.”
Her gaze flitted to mine, eyes teary as she acknowledged the truth in the statement. Had anyone ever deserved it more?
Turning back to the tray, I selected a pastry from the plate I’d already prepared while she’d been sleeping and offered it to her.
“Eat this.”
There was no time for my usual demeaning style, no opportunity to break the pastry and feed it to her piece by piece. Today was about function. I had promised to be with Crane by nine, which meant ensuring we were both ready.
“Thank you, Sir.” She sounded genuinely astonished as she took the baked good from me, her expression hesitant as if she expected me to whip it away again. Clearly, the woman had come to know me well during her stay. Tease and denial were some of my favorite games.
“You’re welcome.”
I waited in silence as she tucked into her breakfast, excitement burgeoning where there should have been guilt. The fact this was the first decent breakfast I’d offered since she’d been my guest was a disgrace, a sentiment I rarely experienced. Pride, however, was a different matter, and watching her devour the pastry swelled an unexpected vanity in me. It wouldn’t be long until she was truly mine. Not just in terms of captivity, but in a legal sense, and it was the damnedest thing.
All those years I’d resisted suggestions of marriage, dodging commitment like bullets, had led to this—to her—Hilary, the woman who’d crashed into my life randomly and collapsed the entire deck of cards. I ran my fingertip over the rim of my cup as she finished her breakfast, arousal seeping into my every thought, trying to throw me off course. Pulling in a determined breath, I glanced around to find the outfit I’d already chosen for Hilary. Today, of all days, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by my desire.
“Good?” I already knew the answer, but it was fun to watch her weight shift on her knees and her eyes meet mine as she was forced to admit, for once, I’d given her something positive.
“Yes, Sir.” She placed the empty cup into my waiting palm. “It was lovely.”
“You don’t realize how much you miss those simple needs until you can’t have them.” The comment was more contemplative than I’d intended, but the sentiment was real. Since she’d become my captive, I’d denied Hilary more than just a few cups of morning coffee.
“That’s true, Sir.”
“Like clothes, for example.” Placing the cup down, I reached for the dress I’d chosen, spinning on my heel to find her expectant gaze. “Have you missed those?”
“Y-Yes, Sir.” She swallowed at my scrutiny. “I’m not used to being naked all the time.”
“It suits you.” I threw her a wink as I wandered in her direction. “But you’d give my lawyer a heart attack if you arrive like that.” I laughed, imagining Crane’s expression if I led the nude and nubile Hilary into his office on a leash. “Best we get you dressed, just this once.”
Her focus fell on the attire in my hands. “You want me to wear that, Sir?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed. Stepping toward the bed, I flung the royal blue dress onto the covers. “I have a pair of beautiful shoes for you, as well.”
“You do?”
That time there was genuine wonder in her eyes, and I wanted to kiss her. If Hilary was impressed with one lousy pair of strappy sandals, she would adore the lifestyle I had in store for her.
“I do.” Perching on the end of the bed, I beckoned her forward with my index finger. “Today, you will look perfect.”
Chapter Seven
Hilary
HE CALLED THIS PERFECT? Glancing down at the blue skirt, which barely covered my thighs, I had to disagree. Sure, it was a good fit, and the long sleeves and sweetheart neckline were rather flattering, but the dress was so short, it looked more suitable for clubbing than a business meeting. We were going to see his legal guy, a man who, by Sean’s own admission, was rather conservative, and Sean thought this was a good look? It was official—he was truly mad.
“You like it?”
I turned at his sardonic tone, my belly twisting at his arching brow and the smug visage I’d come to know and loathe.
“No need to answer.” He shook his palm dismissively. “No matter. You don’t get a say.”
No shit. What was new about that? I hadn’t had a choice about anything since the night he’d stuck me with a needle and taken me outside my home.
“It’s just a little...” I pressed my lips together, trying to think of the right word. “Short, Sir.”
“Short is good.” His grin widened. “Especially when you’re on your hands and knees.”
My heart picked up its pace, the threat lingering, echoing in my head long after the sentence was finished, but there was little time to dwell on the menace.
“Come over here.”
His tone was brusque, suggesting we were running out of time, and with a heavy heart, I sunk to my knees. Much though I wanted out of this bloody house, wherever it was, I didn’t want to attend this meeting and had no intention of signing anything, although I had a feeling Sean would make me an offer I couldn’t refuse. If the last few days were anything to go by, it wouldn’t be simple. It never was. He’d turned my world upside down, and my head hadn’t stopped spinning since.
“Not like that.”
“Sir?” This was a first. In all the time he’d held me, he’d expected me to kneel and crawl, and painful though it was to admit, it had become almost second nature.
“On your feet.” He smirked as if he couldn’t believe the order, either. “Come try these on.”
Gesturing toward something at his feet, my heart raced as tentatively, I rose and walked toward him. What the hell had he done to me? A few days in the darkness and I was practically excited to be on my feet, barely reminiscent of the woman who’d worked for and played with Saul Morrison.
“Sit on the bed.”
He pointed to the corner of the king-sized bed where I’d awoken, and I gingerly balanced there, my attention on the shoes between us. They were more sandals than shoes, the toes covered, while the rest of the shoe opened out, secured by long straps, which I assumed wove around my ankles. Naturally, the shade of blue matched my dress to perfection.
“I’ll put them on for you.”
I watched, shocked, as he fell to his haunches, collecting the first sandal and slipping it on my foot. This was not what I’d expected—the man who’d detained me in such brutal conditions, fitting my footwear. I had to blink to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“There we go.” He looked proud as he buckled the strap before moving to the second shoe. “You have beautiful slim ankles. I knew they’d suit you.”
My lips parted as he worked, my brain prompting me to respond, but really, what was there to say? There was no etiquette for a situation like this, nothing in my life before this could have prepared me.
“Thank you, Mr. Hyland.”
In the end, the weight of the silence coerced the words from my lips, my hands gripping the edge of the bed as he worked on the second strap.
Fleetingly, I imagined kicking him in the face with my other
foot. The sandals had quite the heel, and I bet it could do some damage. My pulse quickened at the fantasy, the events playing out in my head like a movie. I could hurt him, send him flying backward and buy myself a few precious seconds. But then what? My gaze flew around the bedroom quickly. It wasn’t a room I was familiar with, and I didn’t even know where the front door was in this place. Chances were, by the time I tottered off on the heels and found the exit, it would be locked. I’d be trapped and in all sorts of shit with an irate Sean. Apprehension knotted in my belly, my heart hammering faster. This was the first time he’d trusted me enough to let me leave. The last thing I wanted to do was push him back into a corner where leaving me bound and gagged was his only apparent option.
“There.” Smiling, he rose to his full height, towering over me like the demented god he’d become. “Let’s look at you.” Thrusting a hand in my direction, his gaze drilled into me, one brow rising as I made him wait.
“You want me to stand, Sir?” It was a ridiculous thing to clarify, but after so long scampering around in the dark on my hands and knees, this seemed ludicrous.
“Yes, gorgeous.” His tone was playful, but I could tell he was growing impatient. Grasping his hand, I got my bearings. It had been a while since I’d worn heels, so I wondered if I’d even be able to walk in them.
“Steady.” His blue eyes flashed, a brief reminder of just how handsome he might have been if he hadn’t been the man holding me hostage and compelling me into a marriage I didn’t want. “Just one more thing, then you’re ready.” Releasing my hand, he reached into his jacket pocket, producing what looked like a thin black necklace. Eying it warily, I waited as he turned the unknown item over in his palm. “You’ll wear this for me.”
“What is it, Sir?” I acknowledged I might not like the answer as an unwelcome leer spread across his face, but I was fascinated. Focusing on it again, I noticed it was made of soft, supple leather, but the edges were decorated with a tiny gold chain that rose and fell from the places it was attached. Disturbing and beautiful—rather like Sean himself.
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