Captive, Mine (16 page)

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Authors: Natasha Knight,Trent Evans

Tags: #Contempory BDSM Erotic Romance, #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: Captive, Mine
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“Wait. No.”

“Two”

“Lake…”

He opened his mouth.

“Ten! I want ten! Please!”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Sir!”

He released me instantly and gestured to the strap. Tears of panic filled my eyes. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced a deep breath in before opening them again. “Please Lake, I’m sorry. Can we just start again? Please?”

“Strap, Lily.”

I was already crying by the time I took the strap from the wall. The leather felt strange in my trembling hands, thick and flexible, frightening. I handed it to him, wanting to get rid of it. He took it and gestured to the bed. My tears came faster, but I obeyed. I was getting strapped; that was a certainty. All I had control over was whether I was getting ten or twenty strokes.

I knelt on the bed with my back to him, wiped my face, and planted my hands, waiting.

“Almost there. Get down on your elbows and get your face down on the bed. Ass up in the air and don’t move.”

I did it, somehow, moved into the position he wanted me in. The palm of his hand came to my low back and pressed so my hips lifted higher.

“Just like that,” he said, stepping back. Then, a few moments later, while I waited, unable to breathe, to blink, to think, “I like your ass, Lily.”

I gasped when he struck.

“I like looking at it, and I like punishing it.” Another lash had me crying out and breaking position so he had to wait until I was once again ready to take the next stroke.

“I’m going to like fucking it, too.” Another stroke. “And I most definitely”—two more stripes burned into me—”prefer it striped red to pristine white.”

He didn’t speak after that but laid each stroke with hardly a break between them, concentrating on my sit spots. Ten strokes that felt like a hundred and I wasn’t sure how I had taken the punishment of the previous night. Or was it the previous day? I didn’t even know anymore.

When the ten were over, I remained in position on the bed, shaking. Lake hung the strap up and came back to me, sitting down on the bed and petting my hair.

“Shh, it’s over now. You think you can get into position for that inspection now?” he asked almost kindly, even though we both knew he wasn’t asking at all.

I wiped my face and nodded even while I still cried. The skin of my ass felt tight and hot and he had to help me off the bed, my legs were shaking so badly. I managed to move though, managed to get to the wall where he stood me. Managed to get my hands on top of my head and my legs spread to shoulder width, sniffling while Lake looked me over.

“You could have avoided all of that, you know,” he said, taking a tissue and wiping my eyes and nose while I nodded. “Remember it the next time you’re told to do something, Lily.”

I sucked in a shaky breath and nodded again, lowering my gaze, but he took hold of my chin gently and lifted my face to look up at him.

“What do you say, Lily?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

He smiled and some part of me felt almost proud at that. “Good girl. Now let’s have a look at you.”

He stepped back a little and my inspection began.

He didn’t speak so much as mutter sounds of approval as he lifted each of my breasts, slapping them softly. He squeezed one hardened nipple, making me cry out, making it difficult to keep my hands where they were. He then trailed his fingertips over my belly and down to my sex. He leaned down and pressed his thumb against the stubble there. I was normally waxed bare but it had been a few weeks. He clucked his tongue and looked at me. “We’ll have to take care of this,” he said. “Don’t want you looking sloppy.” He straightened then and patted my hip. “You know how this is going to go, right? Turn around, take your legs wider and bend over. Hands around your ankles.”

Why this still made me flush with embarrassment I wasn’t sure. The expression in his eyes was hard, inflexible, and I knew I had no choice. I had to get through this. Why did it matter anyway? He was right. He’d seen every inch of me. He’d fucked me. Why was this so damn hard?

I turned and widened my stance. He stepped back and audibly sucked in a breath as I bent and took hold of my ankles.

“You’ll want to avoid more spanking for the next few days at least,” he said, making me wince when he touched my welted bottom. He then spread my cheeks wide. “What’s this, Lily?” he asked, two fingers running over the folds of my sex. “You’re wet.”

I sucked in that breath when his hands slid forward and two fingers found my swollen clit.

“Do you like doing as you’re told?” he asked, rubbing harder, making me take one hand to the floor to support myself. “I’ll have to check you more closely next time I spank you,” he continued. “Maybe it’s the pain that gets you wet.”

“No,” I managed.

“No, I shouldn’t check you more closely or no, you don’t like the pain because something’s got you soaking here, girl?” As he said it, his other hand pulled my cheeks wider and a finger dipped into my pussy once, twice, before trailing the cleft up to my bottom hole and the pad of that finger, wet with my own arousal, began to circle my anus. “And this?” he asked, working my clit harder. When he pressed his finger into the tight hole, I sucked in a breath, all of my muscles tightening. “How tight is this hole?” he said more to himself than to me. “Has it ever been fucked?”

I groaned, clenching against him as he pushed in to one knuckle. It hurt a little but it was more the embarrassment than anything else.

The fingers working my clit were gone and I felt a light slap to my hip.

“When I ask you a question, you answer it,” he said, thrusting his finger into my ass, making me call out with the sudden pain of the rough intrusion. “I’m feeling generous so I’ll repeat myself. Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Lily?”

“No!”

“No, what?” he asked, pulling out and pushing in again, slowly this time.

“No, Sir.” I said, my reward his fingers returning to my clit. I hated this, hated wanting how it felt, hated him for making me want it.

“So you’ve never come with a cock in your ass?” he taunted, still slowly moving inside me, pulling all the way out then pushing back in. The sensation was so different from anything I’d felt before, so much more intense.

“No, Sir,” I said through a shudder.

“You’re tight, Lily, girl,” he said, “I’ll have to ready you to take my cock here.”

“No, no, no…” I began, rising a little, hating myself for not trying harder to pull away.

“Shh,” he coaxed, his hand at my back, his fingers wet on my skin. “Back down now, girl. I’m not going to fuck your ass today. Hands back around your ankles.”

I mewled but resumed my position and he resumed the rubbing of my clit, pinching it harder now as he added a second finger into my asshole.

I was barely able to hold still and to my shame, couldn’t remain quiet as he brought me to the very edge of orgasm.

“Not today. Today you’ll come with my fingers in your ass and you’ll learn how good girls, girls who do as they’re told, are rewarded,” he said. “Come, Lily.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

H
is phone finally rang while he was on his walk out to the shed. The day was overcast, but still reasonably warm — perfect for what he had in mind. He’d seen the boxes under the window when he’d gone in to see Lily, the way she’d stood there, guilty, caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Lily had been a bad girl, so he needed to take care of that little problem.

Lake put the phone to his ear as he sorted through the mess of the shed. “Tell me you got the car.”

“I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be true.”

Lake sighed, but inside he was relieved. For every day that elapsed since his last call with his fixer, he doubted more and more he’d ever hear from him again.

“So, what happened? You found it, didn’t you?”

“Yep. But someone else found it first.” Kellen paused a moment. “I parked the truck about half a click past the quarry and walked down to it. Never got close to the car though. Place was crawling.”

“Cops?”

Lake’s heartbeat began to thud. This was... not good.

“No way. Two vans, no markings. Suits. One tall motherfucker seemed to be running the show.”

“Dark hair?”

“Affirmative.”

DeSalvo.

A rake fell against the steel wall of the shed, the sound ringing in Lake’s ears. “Jesus.”

“I got good eyes on ‘em through the scope—”

“You had your weapon on them?”

“Had no idea who they were. Of course I had my weapon on ‘em. Had a good field of fire from a thick stand along a ridgeline to the northeast, just in case. Was a fucking bitch to get up there though.”

No cops.

He agreed with Kellen — definitely no cops, yet. Had DeSalvo informed the US Marshals though? That wasn’t clear. The men described could easily be more marshals or Randall’s men. He’d have to assume DeSalvo wasn’t the only corrupt marshal, so at this point it didn’t matter. The good news was, no cops. At worst, DeSalvo was trying to at least keep the news within the Marshals Service. But if Lake were in DeSalvo’s shoes? No way would he let the Marshals Service know he’d lost custody of Lily. It had to be Randall’s men then. It would give them more time.

But they had the car now.

“Kellen, were you followed?”

“No way. I watched them all go then humped it through the bush back to my truck. No roads on foot.”

“You need to get gone. Now.”

Lake tried to think. They probably had time, after all. The car complicated things, but without the police involved, they were likely safe. For now. With the car, DeSalvo could keep the cops ignorant as to what had really happened, and he could probably string the Marshals Service along for as long as he needed too. If it was Randall’s men searching for them, they’d take their time, be careful.

Eventually though, they’d likely zero in. Nothing obvious connected Lake or Lily to his cabin. But cartels were fiendishly clever — and relentless. He’d done enough business with them over the years to know.

Someday, they’d find them.

“You heard me, right? They had no idea I was there, boss.”

“Kellen, listen to me, and do what I tell you.” Lake paused to calm his voice. “If they get hold of you, we’re all dead. Do you understand me?”

“Affirmative.”

“Gone — and stay gone. I don’t want to hear from you anytime soon, you got me?”

“You plannin’ on telling me what the fuck’s going on?”

Lake rubbed a hand across his forehead. “That big mother you got a bead on? Crooked marshal. Randall owns him.”

Kellen whistled.

“They were going to take Lily Cross hostage.” Lake winced. “And I was going to hand her over to Randall.”

Even over the phone, he could feel Kellen cool.

“I should’ve told you, Kellen, but it was my last job. Shitty thing to do to you, I know. I’m sorry for it.”

“Why do you have her now? Why bring an entire cartel and a crooked marshal down on you? Makes no fucking sense, boss.”

“DeSalvo… was going to work her over first.”

“Fucking prick. I knew I should’ve fired him up. Had his mug right in the crosshairs…”

“I couldn’t let him do it.” Lake kicked an old can of spray paint, sending it spinning back into the darkness of a corner of the shed. “Just couldn’t.”

“Never could resist the rescues, could you?” Kellen gave him his trademark wry chuckle. Lake suddenly feared he’d never hear it again.

“Best thing to do right now is stay out of sight. Out of country, if you can swing it. I don’t know how much they checked into me, but it’s a good bet they know you’re an associate. They’ll assume it. So, get gone.”

He finally spotted the can he was looking for. Now, he had to find a damned brush.

“I’m off the grid in one hour, boss. I don’t expect I’ll be talking to you again, will I?”

“No, I don’t expect you will, Kellen.”

“Take care of her. But don’t be a fucking hero.”

No danger of heroism here! Monster.

The line went dead.

Lake looked up at the trees swaying gently in the warm wind. “Good luck, my friend.”

He finally found the brush and headed back.

* * *

 

H
e didn’t even make the second brush stroke down the glass before Lily’s pretty face appeared on the other side of the window. Her eyes were wide, the question on her lips. But he simply smiled at her, adding another broad swath of black paint.

This is fucked up, Lake.

“You passed fucked up about six exits ago, dude,” Lake muttered.

Lily’s lips moved, the sound only barely discernable over the whispering of the breeze through the leaves. “Why?”

She needed to learn. Every time she was defiant, every time she pushed the boundaries, the stricter he’d become, the more of her freedom she’d be relinquishing. Soon, he hoped she’d really understand, and he could go easy on her again.

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