Carnal Captive (36 page)

Instead of answering
the
question, he took hold of her hand. She stumbled, prompting him to look back at her. She’d tripped over th
e towel
.
Stopping, he
studied her.

“What?” she asked. “What is it, Master?”

Wrapping my mind around what’s mine.
“Turn around. Slow with your hands behind your head.”

A mix of anger and defeat chased away
her
blissful expression, but she knew
not
to object. Once again her head went
up
in that prideful way
they hadn’t
been able to beat out of her.
S
tepping away from the towel, she
complied
. He almost laughed at her attempt to move at a military cadence. Didn’t she know she’d always exude sexuality? Her breasts—damn but they were fine!
Even with the marks.
Higher and firmer than the silicone
jobs
he’d had more than his share of access to. Should he have them pierced? Would they look
a
ny better? The question distracted him from what she was doing
. B
y the time he’d pulled his thoughts back to reality, he found himself looking at her back. Tanned flesh stretched over her spinal column and ribs before flaring out to encompass her buttocks.

Her whipped buttocks. And thighs equally marked, if not worse.

He’d done that to her.

Clamping down on where his thoughts were going, he walked over to
his medicine cabinet. The damn thing looked like a pharmacy. He selected a jar with cortisone
and a topical
anesthesia
as the active ingredient
s
and returned to her
.

“What’s that?”
S
he back
ed
away.

“Stand still
and hands behind your back
, damn it.” He unscrewed the lid. “What the hell do you care? It isn’t as if it’s your body
anymore
.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Yes, it is,
her eyes said. Jaw clenched, she watched as he dipped his finger in the cream. He wasn’t interested in
conversation
because that ran the risk of l
eading to an apology
.

Her skin wasn’t broken in many places, but he rubbed the cream everywhere the flesh was red. She kept her hands
where he’d ordered her to place them,
making him wonder if
she
was afraid she’d
touch him in gratitude otherwise.

Like hell.

Despite his impulse to do so, he kept his fingers off her sex, and if he spent more time than necessary on her breasts, well, he’d paid for them, hadn’t he?

Finally he screwed the cap back on and put the jar away.

“Thank you, Master,” she whispered.

When had anyone last said that to him? Fighting the thoughts knocking around inside him, he snagged her wrists and pulled her arms
down and
behind her. He stood over her with her breasts pressing against his middle. “We’re not going to talk about what happened, got it. You belong to me. That’s the only thing you need to concern yourself with.”

Eyes wide, she looked up at him. “Yes, Master.”

Seeing those eyes and her slightly open mouth was his undoing. Suddenly his lips were against hers. There was nothing soft about his kiss, if he could call it that
. Damn it, he’d take whatever he wanted from her! With her hands
useless
and his body blanketing hers, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do. Just the same, she needed to understand the depth and breadth of his mastery.

Ignoring the strain in his back, he increased his punishment of her mouth. When she tried to turn her head to the side, he clamped his teeth around her lower lip. “Don’t you dare,” he muttered.

Fast learner that she was, she stopped resisting. Feeling her sweet, pliable body under his quieted a little of the quick rage that had brought them to this place. She
still
smelled of soap and shampoo, and her body—
his
really—was magic beneath him. Grabbing her around the waist, he
hoisted her to
his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom. He threw her onto the bed and stepped back. Her mouth looked bruised.

“Look at this.” He held up his cock. “And tell me what you think.”

She scrambled onto her knees. “I, ah, it excites me, Master.”

“The hell it does.”

Splitting her attention between his erection and his expression, she nodded. “I
know what I must do
, Master
.”

“You’re damn right you do. This morning you’re going to fuck me.”

“In my pussy?”

Given how last night had turned out, no wonder she was asking. “Yeah. I think so.”

“May I lubricate myself. It would—you’d enjoy yourself more if I was wet there.”

“And you wouldn’t hurt. Yeah, I want you wet but I’m going to do that, not you.”

Her hands fluttered over her shaved mons.

“On your back. Hands
above
your head and legs wide.”

“Are you going to tie me?”

She had no right asking, damn it, but now that she had, he had to consider his options. “Just do
it!
”

Watching him, she
obeyed
. Her legs shook and her fingers
clenched
. All those nights of imagining having her like this and he couldn’t make up his damn mind.
Looming over her small form, he pictured her with her limbs stretched wide.
Once she was like that, he
co
uld do whatever he wanted
. If he
decided
to
dry
hump her, he
would
. Let her beg and whimper, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop him.

What if that tore her? How long
before
he could have her
again
?

Again the image of his slave spread-eagled and helpless on his
bed sharpened in his mind
. He could beat her at will, clamp
or tie
her nipples. Once he’d shot his wad in her, he might shove vibrators in both holes. He’d turn the suckers on full force, then sit back and watch the show.

Listen to
her scream and beg.

Sweat ran down his sides
, and h
is temple throbbed. Pain
in
his cock
had him looking at the white indentations
his fingers were
creating
there
.

If he was capable of squeezing his cock that hard, what might he do to her?

“I’ve changed my mind.” Looking around, he
locked onto what the decorator had called a reading chair.
The only thing he’d done with it was toss clothes on it.
“Get up.”

Chapter Twenty-six

There was something of Damek in Master Bay. Sh
ari
hadn’t wan
ted to draw comparisons
, but she had no choice. Both men had complex personalities. More to the point—and more for her to concern herself with—they couldn’t always control their impulses.

At least she felt less vulnerable now that she was no longer on the bed.
Yes,
standing before her master as he settled himself into the overstuffed chair was
unnerving
, but anything was better than feeling like a squashed bug.

Not only was he in
superb
physical condition, he carried himsel
f with a confidence she could never
equal. It wasn’t
just
the difference in their size.
O
ther football players might be as strong, but no normal man
stood a chance against him
. He’d accompl
ished everything a
n athlete
could, excelled at a sport where only the most skilled survived.

“What are you thinking?” he demanded.

S
he swallowed. “I was admiring your body, Master.”

“Were you.”

Holding out her hands, she continued. “I can paint with these but that’s nothing—“

“
Used
to create, slave.”

Despair so swamped her she wasn’t sure she could go on standing
. T
he bedroom window was open, giving her
a
hint
of the world beyond
captivity. If she had to kill him to regain her freedom, that’s what she’d do. Somehow.

H
e pointed at his cock. “
I’m putting this in your pussy.
Get
ready for
i
t.”

Her trainers hadn’t allowed her to stimulate herself, but she hadn’t forgotten how.
It didn’t
matter that she lacked the courage to meet his
eyes
. She
’
d look at the rest of him
while doing as he’d commanded
.
They’d
shaved
her pussy
yesterday morning
, yet she felt
a little
roughness
. Would Master order her to keep herself
bare
or
would he
take over the chore?

Not a chore. Pleasure.
For him.

No, damn it! This was her time. Her reward for surviving so much.

Licking three fingers, she caressed herself.
If only her master’s body wasn’t so distracting. Closing her eyes to slits, she
glided
her fingers over her
labia
.
To her surprise, h
er clit pulsed, prompting her to lightly touch it.
F
lames flashed.
When she
slid a finger into
herself
, th
e fire spread out in all directions
. Driven by the intensity of her need
,
she trapped her clit
between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand.

Her
body twitched.
Not trusting her ability to stand
, she leaned her hip against the arm of the chair her master sat in. His breathing was ragged,
almost
as wild as hers.
Shaking off her awareness of him, she dove into selfishness. Both
of her
hands were barely enough, even burying two fingers far
into
her vagina didn’t satisfy her
strange
raging need.

A rolling whimper not twisted by pain slipped past her lips
.
Hunching over, she
pressed her hands against her pulsing sex. Moisture flowed from her hot
opening
. The smell
assaulted
her.

“Easy,” a masculine voice said. “Not yet.”

A million years and a million worlds ago she’d loved
foreplay
.
No matter how m
uch her body craved release, it also craved the long, almost painful climb. Whoever was speaking must know that about her. When these exquisite minutes were behind her, she’d thank him for knowing so much about her.
 

“Share yourself.”

Share her body. With her master. Had anything made more sense or taken her farther?  Beyond knowing how to answer her question, she shook herself a little free of the
fiery
web she’d spun around herself. Master Bay was holding his hands out to her. Not caring what he’d think, she placed her juice-soaked ones in his.

“Shit yes you’re ready.”

He parted his legs. She slipped into the space he’d created for her
and
was still getting used to the feel of his legs against hers when he
released
her hands and lifted her onto his lap facing him. Her knees
found a home
between his thighs and the chair arms.

“
Put me in you.”

Straightening, she cupped his cock in both hands and guided him into her sopping hole. Her tissues strained to accommodate him
,
and
she threw back her head so she could focus on the delicious sensation. His fingers pressed against her hips. His bulk and length touched every
cell
of her sex, left nothing unclaimed. When she’d settled around him as much as
she could
, she slowly straightened, cl
osing her inner muscles around
his cock as she did.