Make Me Yours Evermore, Book 3 (7 page)

I said, louder, “I’m happy to just fuck with her head at this stage. However, later, when she begs me to, I will fuck the rest of her, every hole I can find. Whether you’re here or not, that is going to happen.”

Kat grunted, glared at me, and wriggled.

Shit. A female wriggling under my impatient cock was not a good idea.

“Shh. Be still.” I stroked her hair. “So. Are you leaving? I think it’s best if you do. I don’t want to scar you for life.”

Andreas shook his head. Talk about eyes filled with fire, his looked alight. To my amusement, he wasn’t looking at me. Was it the panties in her mouth? The drooling? Me playing with her? Something had set him off. I didn’t generally stare at his junk but the man had a bulge in his pants to rival a gorilla’s.

I wasn’t sure what I thought of that.

It took fifteen to twenty minutes to get to the stage of breakfast in the kitchen. I kept Kat bound as she was in the bed, with her hands near her ears. It was demoralizing, I hoped, but it meant she could easily fall and hurt herself. Going to the toilet meant freeing one hand. Getting her to dress meant letting both loose until that was done. To my satisfaction she let me redo the bondage without fussing.

The panties were still in her mouth. I’d have to remove the gag soon. She was drooling all down her neck, and though I liked the idea of humiliating her a bit, she’d dehydrate if I left it in, as well as get problems where the gag pressed on the corners of her mouth.

I led her into the kitchen by the collar. Her face said she was itching to fight again, but her actions were subdued. The white beach dress I’d bought at a market was one of several I’d picked as being see-through enough to make me happy, yet likely to fit her. They were all vaguely Indian style with a lacy and loose material that fell from the shoulders but tucked up beneath her tits, accentuating their bounciness.

Andreas had followed us in and he sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was a mixture of modern, artistic, and pragmatic with kinky, if subtle, dungeon fittings. Open plan, it looked out over a living room that then looked out over the back deck and the sea. A light breeze whispered in from the deck. The counter tops were granite, and some of the stainless steel on the fridge and stove was going rusty – from the salt air, I figured. There were rings for tying women to everywhere, more than I’d noticed last night. Andreas had seen them from the way he eyed one on the nearby wall…and ceiling…and floor. So far he appeared happy with the BDSM club explanation. All I had to do was keep him and Scrim from talking.

I stopped Kat in the middle of the floor. “Turn around full circle.”

After one long exasperated huff, she did so. As it swirled, the sheer material worshiped the shape of her body from those gorgeous thighs upward. No underwear so I could see the line of her slit and the dark circles of her nipples. My cock twitched at the sight. I took a half-step back and did another sweep from pretty toes to thighs to, well, everything worth looking at.

“Wow,” I murmured then I toyed with the little bow under the bodice, and caressed the underside of one breast. Very deliberately, I held her gaze.

She blasted me with another nuclear-force glare.

“Taking off the gag is going to be interesting to watch,” Andreas said, hooking one foot on the lower stool rail then fishing a tiny packet of cereal from the basket on the counter. He held it up and tore open a corner. “Have we got milk for this? Or bowls?”

Food was more important than looking at me dominate an almost-naked woman? Was he creating a distraction for himself?

“Bowls are in the cupboards behind you and yes, we’ve got some of that long-life milk. Is he right, Kat? Is this going to be interesting?”

She grunted indignantly.

In the background, I could hear cereal being poured into a bowl. I fiddled with the knot on the panties gag, loosened it, and took it off, then undid her hands too. I wasn’t keen on binding her hands to her collar. The aesthetics weren’t pleasing. I preferred the line of a woman’s body when her hands were at her back. “
Don’t
be interesting. If you play up again, I guarantee there will be consequences.”

Kat licked her lips. “Why are you doing this?” She swung to look at Andreas while wiping her mouth. “Why aren’t
you
going to the cops? Why the…everything, Chris? Why?” Her breathing hastened, her mouth pursed and, like a runaway missile, she launched. “I don’t want to be your
pretty
slave or your damn anything! Consequences? Let me go or there will be damn consequences, from me!”

I waited then went right up close to her and wrapped my arms around her back. I kept my voice level and almost too quiet for Andreas to overhear. Almost.

“Done? You think that was good behavior? You’re going to have to do better in the thinking department in future. I regard saying damn to me, twice, as bad behavior. Put that up here in your memory.” I twirled her hair in circles above both ears. “Paste it in there this time. No further swearing, ever. Don’t forget.”

She tried to back away. Too late. I knew having me, a man more than a foot taller and much heftier, crowding her would give her pause. In our negotiated scenes, she’d reacted this way a few times, but I never did get to put the knowledge to use.

“You know why you’re here, Kat.”

After a few tiny gulps, she fashioned a reply. “Stephanie? Because of her?”

“Yes. Because of her. I was going to get you to kneel between us on the floor, with a cushion for your knees, if you were good. Instead…keep still for what I do next. Don’t talk. If you talk, I will tie you up then string you up from the ceiling in here and beat you like a naked piñata until your screaming scares away the crocodiles for miles. Get that? Nod.”

For a half a minute she barely breathed. Wide-eyed, she looked at me, then at the floor, her mouth working. Finally, she nodded, once.

I let my heartbeat slow from gallop to trot then I put both my palms on her back and caressed her while I had my nose in her hair, breathing in her scent. A minor victory, maybe, but I’d take it.

“If I have to, at meal times, I’ll put you in the cage.” I pointed with my chin. In the far corner of the living room sat a black anodized steel cage big enough for a human.

“Jesus.” Metal chinked on china. Andreas swore a row of quiet curses then reached for a sponge to mop up the milk and corn flakes he’d spilled on the counter. “A cage?”

Though she ground her teeth, Kat let me lift her onto the breakfast bar. Once she was kneeling on a towel, I tied each wrist behind her to separate rings on the wall. By the time I was done, Andreas had picked up his bowl again. He wasn’t eating.

“You finished?” I inquired.

“I guess,” he muttered, eyeing Kat.

There it was again – he was looking goggle eyed at my captive. “If you look any harder you’ll embarrass her.”

Andreas sniffed then swiveled his stool my way. I grinned at his remorseful expression.

“I shouldn’t stare, should I? Sorry, Kat.”

The thoughtful look she turned on him made me get thoughtful too. “I’d prefer if you didn’t apologize to her.”

Though he tweaked one eyebrow upward, he nodded. He reached out and touched the one of the wall rings, scratching at it with a finger. “Something red. Is this a spot of blood?”

Jeez. Had they not cleaned up the place? I shoved over the sponge he’d used earlier and he rubbed at the metal. “Could be. Some kinksters get pretty hardcore with their play.”

“No shit.”

Thank goodness he couldn’t see inside my head. I’d played that hard a few times.

Andreas wiped his hands dry.

“What you can do, is help me feed her.”

“You want me to feed her my corn flakes?” He coughed once. “Really? I mean…really?”

“Yes. I’m going to get some too. We can both feed her.” I added a pre-emptive statement, figuring Kat might decide to try a hunger strike. “She’ll eat too, if she has any sense. If you’re not strong, Kat, you won’t be healthy, will you? I think even you can see the advantage of being healthy.”

Her eventual curt nod came after a small spate of head shaking punctuated by an eye roll. I didn’t remark on it. Body language control would come eventually. She’d learn.

By the time we were done eating, Kat had several spoonfuls of cereal and milk spilled on her outthrust breasts. She’d gasped and glared often but let us both feed her. Most of the spilled food was Andreas’s mistakes. Some of the spillages had seemed deliberate. What the fuck was that about? Although…the idea of sucking it all off her was tempting. I smiled. How that thin lace clung to her curves like plastic wrap…sticky, messy, clear plastic wrap, with two erect nipples poking out like they wanted attention. And a few corn flakes.

Wet, suckable nipples…

If my balls ached any more I’d need painkillers.

“Fuck.” Andreas was checking her out too and she was looking exasperated enough at our dual male admiration to rip loose from the bindings like some female superhero. I almost groaned as she again pulled with her arms at her back, making her tits pop out more, and her belly and thigh muscles contort in that absolutely delicious female way.

An image of Andreas up there on the counter with her shoved its way into my head – him licking milk and cereal off her tits. I elaborated, day dreaming, seeing her still bound, moaning, while he parted her thighs and drove into her.

God. I rubbed my forehead. This kidnapping was having unforeseen results. Andreas was getting ever more involved. No wonder, when a friend hitches a ride in your car while you’re in the middle of the kidnapping.

I’d thought about what might happen, when abducting Kat first seemed a possibility. Sometimes I wondered why I’d become so obsessed with her. Other times I dismissed such thoughts because I wasn’t sure why, except that she attracted me like no other woman. A timid, quiet, and fragile submissive meant nothing to me. Kat pulled me in like a wild lioness in the ring of the coliseum drew a gladiator.

That day at the beach, a week ago, we’d gathered for the munch. Us kinksters had intended to have a bit of fun swimming, barbecuing, and mucking around with beach cricket, as well as introducing some newbies to the lifestyle. Kat had been determined to figure out what Klaus was up to and had wanted me to go break into his house and check out his place in a search for Stephanie.

I’d done it for her because the whole idea fascinated me. Because Kat fascinated me. Not because I really thought she was correct, or because I thought my staid, if kinky, accountant partner had a girl stashed in his house. But she’d been right. That had floored me. I’d questioned Steph and discovered what she thought of her captors. Curiouser and curiouser, she’d protected them. Even lied a little.

A few hours later, after leaving Steph with Klaus and Jodie, I’d known that one day I’d get Kat like Steph had been…on her knees, submitting to me as her Master.

I’d researched it. Stockholm Syndrome, the psychology of captivity, how to break someone down until they believed anything you said, would do anything you asked. This wasn’t the same as a Dominant/submissive relationship. I needed to alter my methods.

And here she was. Kneeling before me. Splattered with corn flakes. I almost snorted in amusement but darker thoughts hounded me.

Now I had her on her knees, the prospect daunted me. Maybe I was crazy after all. Worse than that, Andreas was intrigued. I’d seen fairly indisputable symptoms.

The spoon under my fingers began to bend. He was my rock steady friend. I’d never hurt him, yet here I was letting him become involved in an immoral criminal act that could see him in prison for decades.

“Change of plan. You don’t have a week, Andreas. Four days. Then you’re going and leaving me alone with Kat.”

Embarrassment had reached new depths. It was one thing standing in a room naked and getting whipped by a Dom you’d selected carefully and discussed your limits with. I had control over that. But this? Kneeling on the breakfast counter with my hands behind me and basically chained to the wall while wearing a wet, milk-soaked scrap of a dress?

I wanted to sink into the floor. Even more so since I knew having them do what they’d done – stared and treated me like a pet they had to feed, had turned me on so much I was afraid to open my legs. I could feel how slippery I was down there.

When Andreas excused himself and wandered off down the hallway to the toilet, I relaxed somewhat. One gone. Maybe now, I’d get freed. I braced myself for the evil I had to do, begging from
him
… Then I raised my eyebrows, in a hopeful fashion, at Chris.

He deadpanned back at me.

Shit. Did I have to whine? I was not whining. But I wasn’t game to speak. Chris’s suggestion of a piñata and the crocs hearing my beating had been ominous.

The stool scraped on the floor as he stood.

I managed a forced smile when he came to the counter and hopped up on it, sitting next to me with his legs dangling over the edge.

“You were very, very good,” he drawled.

I blinked and tried to stamp down on my awareness of the difference between him, free, a dominant man and inches from me, and me tied up. It was electric. Chris was the epitome of alpha male. In the past, his pale blond man-god good looks had always steamed up my female sex goggles in milliseconds. I couldn’t help holding my breath and giving my lower lip a tug with my teeth. Pure body reaction, I reminded myself, I still hated him. I did, I did.

His slow perusal of my breasts and the trail of milk and cornflakes down my belly made me both melt into a sizzle of goo and want to snap out something like…like,
I’m not your breakfast
. Noo. God no.
Need a spoon?
Fuck no, not that either.

Surreptitiously, I twisted one wrist, praying it was loose.

He spotted that movement and his mouth curved. “It’s amusing, Kat. Watching you. Watching you and knowing I can touch you without you doing anything to stop me. Knowing you’re aroused too.”

“I’m not aroused,” I ground out. “Andreas will be back soon!” My glare would hopefully turn him to ashes.