Snare (Delirious book 1) (30 page)

“Holy shit …”

He laughs. “I told you there is more to me than meets the eye.”

“So, not only are you a librarian, but you’re also a club owner?” I scoff.

“I’m no such thing. I simply gather important and unique items, fulfill my clients’ every need, and make sure to categorize everything properly. Books are my first love. Curating is my second.”

“Interesting … so … you spend a lot of time here?” I ask, wondering what I should imagine when it comes to a scene in these rooms.

He gazes at me over his shoulder and gently smiles. “More than I would like. But mostly to tend to the club. I would prefer coming here with a beautiful lady such as you by my side.”

He stops in front of a door. When I read the label, my body freezes.
Library.

I gaze inside, but my eyes don’t really register the fact that this is the exact same room I was in the first time Sebastian abducted me. The day he made me believe there were men watching me while I pleasured myself.

“This is …”

“Yes, Miss Carrigan. This is the place.” He groans. “Oh … I have such thrilling memories of this room.”

I try to ignore the voice in my head that says
‘sex tape’
because this isn’t the right time or place, but I can’t stop thinking about it. “It was in your building all along.”

“I kept it a secret because I feared you would try to come here on your own accord.” He turns toward me. “Promise me you will never come here unless it is with me.”

“Why?”

“No questions. Answer me,” he says gruffly.

“I won’t come here, I promise.”

“Do not let anyone take you here. Ever. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mister Brand.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Good. I trust you on your word. It’s for your own protection.”

“Why are you showing me all of this if it’s that dangerous?”

“Because you must get to know your captor before you trust him with your life,” he says. “Now, come.” He holds out his hand.

Tentatively, I place mine inside. It feels like I’m making a huge jump into a black hole. I have no idea where this will take me—if he’ll keep me safe or turn on me again in the blink of an eye—but I must trust my heart, and my heart tells me I should proceed. I must know about the secrets that lurk in the corners of these buildings, inside the remnants of his soul.

I swallow away the lump in my throat as Sebastian tugs on my hand. He stops near a different door, at the other end of the hallway. The label says
Kid’s playroom
. What I see as I peer through the window makes my body stiff, and my feet cold … so, so cold. Shivering, I smash my lips together to prevent the scream from escaping my lungs.

Sebastian opens the door and pulls me inside. My feet dig into the floor, but he drags me along, regardless.

“No …” I say.

“Yes, come inside,” he says, pushing me further until I’m past the doorstep and he can close the door. I try to turn around, but it’s too late. The door is already closed. He just slipped the key into his pocket.

“What’s the matter, Miss Carrigan?” he asks with a smile on his face. His hands grab my shoulder and spin me around, forcing me to stare at the scene ahead.

There are hundreds of them scattered all across the room. Big, small, fluffy. Terrifying.

I have to get out. I have to get away from here.

I feel nothing but paralyzing fear.

Away. Away!

Sebastian holds me in his arms, wrapping them firmly around me, preventing me from moving. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of stuffed bunnies?”

Shuddering, I close my eyes and wish them away. I can’t see them, can’t look at them, without thinking about horrifying events I don’t want to remember.

Fur.

Blood.

Remains.

I scream, but Sebastian’s hand is yet again around my throat. “Stop. No one will hear you here. This room is sealed shut; no sound can escape this place.” He leans close to my ear, alerting all my senses. “You and I are going to have a little play time here.”

Accompanying Song:
“Body Electric” by Lana Del Rey

Room 115. Providence, Rhode Island – May 8
th
, 2013

With his firm grip around my arm, the door locked, and no windows, there is no way out. I block out the stuffed animals I can see from the corner of my eye and focus on what’s ahead. Playtime means he will claim me now. There is no negotiating. He takes what he wants when he wants it. There are two choices. Let him use me and take me in whatever way he pleases, accepting anything that comes with it, so that he’ll be satisfied and might let me go if I keep it up. Or I can fight him and hope I make it out alive. I figure option one is the safest, regardless of what it’ll do to my dignity, my self-worth.

I know what’s coming now. I’ve seen it coming for days. Ever since he had me tested for STDs and forced me to have an IUD inserted. Maybe it won’t be as bad as last time. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I try not to think about the fact that he just tried to choke me in the elevator.

Whatever fucked-up reasons he has for doing what he does, I’ll find out what’s behind it all. It’s my only way out of this mess.

He brings me toward a device in the middle of the room. It looks like a two-part bench with an empty space in the middle, and there are cuffs attached to the ends. A hook hovers in the air above it, ropes dangling from the metal. I shiver at the sight.

“On your knees.” His command is swift but laced with anger. “And stay down.”

As I go to my knees, he walks to a rack hanging from the wall with all sorts of toys, such as floggers, canes, scissors, knives, and other tools I don’t want to know about. Pain frightens me. Beads of sweat trickle down my back as he comes back, intimidating me with his feet as he strides behind me. “Take off your dress.”

I do as he says. There’s no question in my mind that this is wrong, but what other choice do I have? So, I tear off the only piece of clothing that was standing between him and my fragile body.

With both hands, he grabs my head and makes me lean back against him. His legs are sturdy, hard against my soft, yielding skin. His fingers caress my cheek and pet my hair, as he groans with delight. “Now tell me …what is it about this room that makes you so uncomfortable?”

“The bunnies,” I blurt out.

Searing pain on my left breast ensues. I cry out in pain. The paddle caressing my nipples causes the burn to intensify, pulsing throughout my body. I can feel it everywhere. It sizzles. It burns. It feels hot and cold at the same time. It’s making me feel delirious.

“The bunnies, what?”

“The bunnies, Mister Brand.”

He caresses me some more. “Good. If you forget my name, I have to punish you. Now … tell me all about these bunnies and what they do to you.”

“I can’t, Mister Brand.”

“Why not?”

A tear forms in my eye, so I shut them in the hopes of making it disappear. “I just … can’t.”

He smacks me again, this time on the other breast. I bounce back against his pants, trying to get up, but he fists my hair and forces me to stay down. “Yes, you can. Now tell me, what is it that bothers you so much.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

Whack!

“Please … I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can. If I say you can take it, you can take it,” he growls, whacking my nipple until it’s red and swollen.

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to have sex with me, and now you want to talk about bunnies?”

He whacks me thrice this time, each harder than the previous. It stings so much that my senses have gone haywire. My muscles tense, preparing for the next blow, but it never comes. I’m left achingly empty as if I was expecting something. Like I wanted it to happen.

Preposterous.

“I make the rules, not you. And trust me when I say that I
will
fuck you.” He pulls my hair back far enough to tilt my head. “Look at them. Now tell me … what do you see?”

“Pain…” The word makes me dizzy.

He pats my head, soft strokes brushing through my hair. “Hmm … do you remember that bunny you received at the mental hospital?”

“Yes …” I gasp. “Was that yours, Mister Brand?”

“I thought it would cheer you up and help you work through your issues. Make you a little less obsessed with me and give you something to hold onto instead. I later heard you didn’t appreciate my little gift.”

Oh God. I never knew it was his. “I’m sorry, Mister Brand, I didn’t mean to―”

“Shh …Enough.” He strokes my chest with the paddle, reminding me that he has all the power. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. The underlying problem is obvious.”

“What do you mean, Mister Brand?” I ask.

“You can barely even look at them without shutting down. I knew it the moment I heard from Sam, Doctor Bailey, what you had done to the stuffed animal that it was all part of your trauma. I will help you with that.”

“How?”

“By forcing you to remember.”

I think my heart stopped beating for a second.

“Please, don’t …”

He whacks my breast again. I hiss in pain. “Stop defying me. I can help you if you let me take control. It’ll all be better.” He strokes me with the paddle, moving down and up across my skin, causing a dizzying haze in my head because I’m expecting the pain and receiving none.

“Trust me, Miss Carrigan. Let me exchange one pain for the other. Hot, sizzling, aching, pain will take away your fears. Let the pain seduce your body, mind, and soul.” He pulls back my hair and hits me again, making me squeal. “Don’t fight it. Feel it. Accept it. Love it.”

In his pants, his cock grows, bulging against the back of my head as he spanks me with the paddle. “Spread your legs,” he says, placing the paddle between them. “Further. I want you open for me. Wet.”

His words make me yearn for the love he could once give me, when I was still in the hospital.

“Don’t think about what was or what could have been,” he says. “Focus on the here and now. You and me. This paddle and your red skin. The pain and your lust.” I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound of his voice, the gentle calmness in it that suddenly prevails. I haven’t heard him speak like this before, so soothing. It almost makes me forget that I’m a prisoner under his rule.

Suddenly, he pulls my hair back, causing me to arch my back. He bends over and presses his lips firmly onto mine. He kisses me, so rough, and yet so lovingly, it takes my breath away. I don’t pull away. I don’t bite. I don’t push and shove. I let him kiss me, harder and more passionate than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s as if this one kiss tells me he truly wants to be mine. And when he takes his lips off me again, I’m left with a wantonness I didn’t know I had.

He smiles then hits me again with the paddle, surprising me. I fight to keep my legs open when the blow lands.

“Your skin is so beautiful when it’s red,” he whispers. “I could lick you right now, over and over until you glisten like the sun.” When he plants a kiss on my forehead, I feel his cock thumping in his pants. At least his dick tells me the truth; he does want me. I wonder if this is how he expresses his love.