His Black Pearl (3 page)

The shop couldn’t be closed. Not today. I
knew it was early, but still, I needed to do this now. I couldn’t
just leave. I might never build up the nerve to come back, and
then…

The door opened.

He must have heard me jiggling the knob, but
when the old shopkeeper opened the door, I almost felt like he’d
been expecting me. His hands reached out for mine, and he hugged me
close before pulling me inside and closing the door behind me. His
Italian was so fast I couldn’t catch a word of it.

“I’m so sorry.” I gestured to the heavy pearl
still hanging from my throat. “I thought it was a gift. If I’d have
known it was so valuable—”

“Shh, bella. No worry. You back now, and old
Pietro take good care of you.”

His words faded into a heavy mixture of
Italian after that, and I just smiled along as he led me to a room
in the back of his shop. I didn’t really know what to say or do.
I’d caused him so much trouble already. I didn’t dare deny any of
his requests. I knew I probably shouldn’t be alone with him—he was
a stranger after all—but he was just so nice. When he pulled out
the old leather chair in front of his work bench, I sat down
without question.

Oh, God, if only I would have questioned.

“I just want you to know that I’m not a
thief. I just didn’t understand what was going on. So if you want
to take back the necklace…”

I pulled back my hair and waited for the
shopkeeper to unfasten the band, but he didn’t move. He just stared
at me with his head cocked to the side and his lips pressed into a
thin white line.

“Bella no like?”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I love it. I’ve never seen
anything more beautiful. It’s just too much, that’s all. I could
never afford something this…amazing.”

I must have said the right thing, because his
features softened and he leaned forward to stroke my cheek.

“Old Pietro already say no price, bella. This
yours. It meant for you. Wishing stone know what make you happy,
and this—“ He fingered my pearl. “She make you happy, si?”

“Oh, si. Molto happy, but—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “No more but
and no more sad. Is present. Now just sit here and let old Pietro
finish his magic. When I done you be happiest girl who ever live.
You see.”

He was so excited I didn’t even think about
disappointing him. Already the mortar and pestle were out again. He
slid on a pair of thin leather gloves before adding his
ingredients. A dash of golden spice here. A bit of red wine there.
He ground his concoction into a thick cream, and when he was done,
he held it up for me to smell.

“Bella like?”

I inhaled, and tears filled my eyes. Oh, God,
it was the most beautiful aroma I’d ever encountered. Waves of
lilac and honeysuckle rolled over me. I felt like I was lost
somewhere between heaven and home, and I didn’t want to leave.

Oh, Lord, I never wanted to leave at all.

He took my wrist in his hand, and when he
rubbed the fragrant cream across my bare inner arm I didn’t say a
word. I didn’t even move when his fingers traced perfumed patterns
into the hollow of my throat. My skin tingled. His every touch was
like a lover’s soft kiss, and I sighed when he finally stepped
back.

I was a fool not to run away right then.

Surrounded by that heavenly scent, I felt
more relaxed than I had in years. My parents’ expectations, my
friends’ opinions, my own misgivings, they all just ceased to be. I
was myself. I was Adair Bartlett. I was purified. I was new. And I
was alive.

I was so very alive.

Through half-hooded lids, I watched the old
shopkeeper rummage through his cabinets. Words still trickled past
his lips, but I was beyond caring what they meant. Every now and
then he tossed an item onto the table in front of me. A pair of
long, leather shin-guards slapped against the wood followed by
stubby-fingered gloves and then a pile of different length leather
belts. I wondered how many more oddities he intended to shower
before me and just what role they had in the magic to come, but my
brain was too foggy to think.

A final item slid across the table, and I
blinked twice before I realized what it was.

A blindfold.

A padded leather blindfold.

My heart raced.

Adrenaline pulled me out of my daze, and when
I looked back at the other items they finally all made sense.

Those weren’t tiny leather belts. They were
restraints. Thick leather cuffs hung from the top of each glove,
and those greaves…

I sucked in a sharp breath. I had to get out
of there. I had to run while I still could.

I leapt to my feet. Behind me, the chair
toppled backwards, but I couldn’t worry about that. No, I couldn’t
worry about anything but my shaking knees. Why were they shaking?
Why did every step seem so very, very hard?

I hadn’t even made it three feet before my
legs crumpled beneath me. For a second, the world darkened. I
expected to find myself sprawled across the floor, but strong arms
grasped me from behind. I heard the cluck of a tongue. The old
shopkeeper held me in one arm while he reached down for the toppled
chair with the other.

I had to get away.

Why couldn’t I get away?

My head lolled to the side, and I could
barely lift my arms as the shopkeeper placed me back in the chair.
I might as well have been a rag doll for all the fight I gave him.
I tried to speak, to scream, but for some reason I couldn’t even as
much as whisper when he pulled my arms behind the chair and tied my
wrists together with a long, leather band.

God, what had he done to me?

As soon as I was safely secured, he stepped
back in front or me and stroked my cheek with a leather-clad
finger.

Leather…

The gloves. Oh, God, he was wearing gloves
when he put that lotion on me! That’s when it started. The
tingling. The euphoria. Lord only knows what he mixed into that
concoction, and I’d fallen for it. Idiot that I was, I fell for it
all.

My chin slumped onto my chest and I sobbed.
This couldn’t be happening. Dear God, this couldn’t be
happening.

Iron-like hands bound my ankles to the chair
legs, and when the old man pulled a pair of steel cutting sheers
out of the drawer behind him, I nearly wet myself.

I must have been a state to see just then.
Hyperventilated sobs wracked my chest. My whole body shook. Even my
abductor felt sorry for me. He stroked my hair gently for several
minutes and whispered small shushing sounds until my tremors no
longer threatened to over-topple the chair.

Then he pulled away my scarf.

I felt the soft fabric slide across my skin.
I was being unwound, stripped. From the corner of my eye, I watched
the long shawl pool across the floor, and then there were my
breasts. They heaved against the tiny lace camisole, and I
whimpered when the shopkeeper reached up to cup one in his left
hand.

“Oh, bella…”

Two more snips. The straps fell away from my
shoulders. Cold steel touched my skin, and then the scissors sliced
straight through the center of my shirt.

My bare breasts spilled out from my chest,
and I sobbed even harder.

Oh, God, please don’t let this be happening.
Please.

The shopkeeper didn’t move for several
seconds. A softly whispered “bellissimo” left his lips, and then he
dropped his shears onto the table behind him.

“Please,” I managed to whisper, but he just
pressed a finger to my lips before kneeling before me.

“So perfect, my bella.” He cupped my breasts
in each of his hands. His fingers kneaded my flesh. “So
bellisimo.”

Soft, warm lips kissed my skin. His mouth
fell upon my nipple, and he sucked it gently at first, then
harder.

Oh, God…

My sobs turned into halting gasps and then
moans. I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the drugs or maybe…maybe it
was just me, but Lord help me, I was arching into his touch as
he…as he suckled me.

His teeth nibbled until the tip was sore and
firm, and when he was done, he did the same to the other. Only
after a lifetime of fondling did he sit back to admire his work. He
pinched my hardened nipples, and when he raised an eyebrow in my
direction, I squeezed my eyes shut against the shame.

Oh, Lord, save me. Please, please, save
me.

His hand slid up my skirt, and I sucked in a
quick breath. I tried to pull my legs together, but I couldn’t. All
I could do was sit there as his fingers slid beneath my panties and
found the wetness I was so ashamed of.

He chuckled, and I cried harder.

What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be
aroused, not by—.

Soft leather stroked my pussy, and I gasped
again. One finger. Two. Three. More went inside me until nearly all
were lost within my dripping cunt.

He stroked deeper, and my hips pumped weakly
against his fingers.

“That right, bella. Bene. Just let old Pietro
take care of you. He know what you need.”

I tried to argue, but my breaths were coming
out in quick pants. Something dark and tempting was brewing inside
me, and I ached to give in to it, but I couldn’t. I was the good
girl. The virgin. I’d only had two boyfriends in my whole life, and
neither of them had ever…

His fingers danced across a part of me I’d
never felt before, and I was so close to…to…what? I had no idea.
I’d never felt anything like the heat boiling between my hips, but
I knew I wanted it—I needed it—and when he withdrew his hand from
cunt I sighed with more sadness than I’d ever felt before.

Sweet Lord, what in the hell was wrong with
me?

“Oh, no sad, bella.” The shopkeeper cupped my
chin in his soiled hand. “Old Pietro going to find you good master.
He get one to make you happy for all time.”

His sheers moved across my skin once more,
but I was too shocked to notice. Master? What did he mean by
master?

When he finally stripped away the last of my
clothing, I was shaking even harder than before. This couldn’t be
happening. I was supposed to be a doctor, not some mindless sex
slave. I couldn’t let this psycho destroy my parents’ greatest
dream. I’d worked too hard to make it come true.

I fought against my restraints, but I was
just too weak. I could barely even hold my head up by the time the
shopkeeper slipped those leather greaves around my shins. I still
couldn’t even understand what they were for? Each one stretched
from toe to knee and they were so thick I couldn’t even bend my
ankles. How would I ever be able to walk?

My breath caught when I realized that might
be the whole point.

“Just little more, bella.” The shopkeeper
stuffed my fingers inside those stubby leather gloves. “Then Pietro
bring out you carriage.”

He picked up his mortar again, and he rubbed
more of that sweet-smelling poison all across my body. His fingers
went everywhere. My throat. My breasts. My legs. When he finally
rubbed the last of that warm lotion across my pussy’s inner lips,
darkness danced at the edge of my vision.

But I had to stay awake.

As long as I was conscious, I still had a
chance at freedom. I just had to be smart. I had to find the right
opportunity and—

The sharp, rusty squeal of old metal broke
through my thoughts, and when the shopkeeper knelt in front of me
again, his smile was even wider than before.

“See, I told you no take long. Now look,
bella. Pietro bring beautiful chariot for beautiful lady.”

He tilted my chin to the left, and when I
looked down, a giant, empty crate laid waiting for me. My heart
raced. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

“Is okay.” He wiped away my tears with those
soft leather gloves. “No cry now. Is happiness I’m giving. No place
for tears in happiness.”

His hands moved to my waist, and he hoisted
me up without ever unbinding my wrists. My body slumped across his
shoulder. I cried harder when I felt my feet touch the soft padding
inside the bottom of the box, but I couldn’t do anything to stop
him. He folded my legs beneath my chest and pressed my head upon
the pillows. He chained my still-bound wrists to my ankles. He
tethered me to the floor of that crate in the perverted pose of a
kneeling supplicant, and when he was done, he clapped his
hands.

“Bene, bella. Molto bene.”

I shivered uncontrollably, but the leather
bands holding me down hardly let me move at all.

“Please.” I finally managed to whisper, but
he just shushed me.

“No more words, bella.”

His gloved hands swept aside my hair, and
when I opened my mouth to speak again, he slid a heavy rubber ball
between my lips.

I gagged.

“Breathe, bella. Just breathe for old
Pietro.”

He stroked my hair gently, and slowly I
calmed down. When I finally stopped choking, he strapped the gag in
place and then held up the blindfold.

I cried even harder.

“It break heart to see you like this, mia
bella… my pearl.” He traced his finger across the band of my choker
before sliding the blindfold over my eyes. “But old Pietro no break
promise. He know what you need, and he make sure you get it.”

He stroked my ass. His fingers teased my
cunt. Once more he reached inside me, and just like before the
stirring was back. I knew I should fight, but I didn’t want to. The
darkness was just too tempting. My thoughts slid away as the drugs
finally overtook me, and all I could feel was the pulsing heat
between my legs and the overwhelming hunger for more.

I moaned into my gag, and the shopkeeper
removed his fingers.

“Not just yet, mia bella. Sleep now. In
morning, you have new life, happy life, then all things better. Old
Pietro promise.”

And then he closed the lid.

Chapter Four

I’m sobbing.