Carnal Captive (37 page)

“Shit.” He slapped her right breast. “Ah shit.”

He’d barely struck her, just enough to remind her of his presence. A
n insistent voice
warned that he was capable of much more, but she was on top for the first time since she’d been captured. In charge.

Instead of
laugh
ing
at the
insane thought, she acknowledged that h
er master and she were having sex. Yes, he’d whipped her last night, but this morning he’d gently treated
her injuries
. This man she believed she’d live in abject fear of was capable of kindness.

A warm ocean-like wave caressed her from head to foot. As it faded away, another sensation claimed her. She wanted sex. Needed to fuck.

Planting her hands on his chest for support, she started
mov
ing up and down
.
At first he rode with her, keeping his cock lodged deep within
. Then he started w
ork
ing
at cross purposes with her. She lifted, he pulled away. She came down, he rose up, smashing their bodies together.

And his hands—they were everywhere. Feather-raking her thighs,
kitten-
slapping
her breasts
. Somewhere in the middle of her fever, she felt his hand around her throat. If not for her collar, maybe, he would have choked her.

No. He wouldn’t
.

Trust. Right now she trusted him.

S
urprised
by the thought, she sagged forward, but her pussy wasn’t done with her. It
needed!
It would have!

Claiming strength and energy from her core, she danced on her master’s cock. Her breasts
bounced
so they felt as if they were trying to pull free
of her body
. Running the same race, Master pummeled and retreated only to attack once more.

“Oh God, oh God!” she bellowed a half instant before
a
monstrous climax slammed into her. Barely fathoming what was happening, she froze.
D
eep inside her pussy exploded. Flew off everywhere, somehow gathered again, exploded once more.

“Oh
God, oh God.”

“Fuck!” he roared. Liquid heat flooded her. “Ah shit, fuck!”

They had breakfast
,
or rather Master Bay wolfed down two bowls of cereal and a half dozen pieces of toast while she
c
ouldn’t
manage half that much. She still felt wrecked, her body humming so she
was unable to
concentrate on anything else. Neither said much. His phone had rung while h
e
was still inside her and h
e’d
returned the call
a few minutes later. Whatever the other person had said had pleas
ed him, but he hadn’t relayed what it was
to her.

As she—still naked of course—loaded dishes in the dishwasher, she
again drew
comparisons between his days and hers. He’d continue to live in the world while she’d, what, wait for him to want sex? Whether he kept her chained or in a cage made little difference. Her existence would be marked by helpless boredom punctuated with the occasional fuck.

And pain.

He’d opened the kitchen window, and she smelled the lake and whatever vegetation surrounded his place. How she wanted to be outside!

His cell phone
announced another incoming call. If she screamed would whoever was on the other end—no
. She didn’t dare take the chance.

“Well what do you know,” he said in response
to whatever the other person had said
. “I didn’t think things would move that fast. No, I haven’t heard of them but then I’m damn new to the advertising world.” He listened awhile longer. “I trust you. After all, I pay you too much for you to risk losing this cash cow.”

More conversation
, something about a contract and record
ing
whatever needed recording, but those things had nothing to do with her. Wouldn’t change her existence.

Ending the call, he stared out the window. “It’s the damn Midas touch. Everything
I do these days turn to gold.”

And my world has turned to dust.

He’d
pulled on a pair of shorts. Much as she wanted to avoid looking at his chest, she
di
dn’t
because
she had to wrap her mind around the reality it represented.

“Tell me something.” He spoke without looking at her. “For a few minutes there was it good for you?”

The old-fashion way he’d asked caught her off guard. “It was, Master.”

“What part?”

“Climaxing.” She pressed her hands to her suddenly hot cheeks. Under her palm she felt the raised area where the whip had landed, but it no longer hurt. “That was very good.”

“I thought so.”

Looking at his back, she wondered what he was thinking.
“Can I ask you a question, Master?”

“You can ask.”

“You’re going to
be
busy, aren’t you.”

He faced her. “More than I thought I’d be.” What was that, relief?

“When you are, what will happen to me?” Her throat clogged but maybe she’d said all she needed to.

For several seconds she feared he wasn’t going to answer. “I’ve made arrangements, a room to keep you in.”

“And ways of making sure no one knows I’m here.” She placed her hand over her mouth. “Unless you want them to.”

“It
’
s part of the Carnal package, no stone left unturned.”

Except for what goes on inside me.
“Can I see it, the room I mean?”

More seconds ticked by
. Maybe he was angry because she’d forgotten to call him master. It was so hard to know what lines she could and couldn’t cross.

“Soon. But first I want to get the rest of the things out of the car.”

My paintings!

Chapter Twenty-seven

A
jerk of the head had her
accompany
ing
him
into the garage
. Would he
raise
the door, give her a glimpse of freedom? Her crazy wild hope died when he turned on the overhead light and
popped the trunk latch.

“Your suitcase is in there. Get it.”

Wondering why she hadn’t noticed it
earlier
, she did as he commanded.
A
box filled with her painting supplies
was next to the suitcase
. She couldn’t take her
gaze
off it, couldn’t think.
Instead of
watching
her,
Master Bay
opened the driver’s side rear door and pulled out her paintings. Numbness enveloped her.

Wh
at are you going to do with
them
?
she wanted to ask, but th
e words jammed in her throat.

“
Suitcase,” he commanded. “
The box c
an wait
.”

B
a
ck i
nto his domain, his world.

Still numb, she trudged after him
. T
he suitcase was the only one she had, but then she didn’t have that many clothes
or
personal belongings.
Besides,
Master Bay carried what mattered to her.

Returning to the kitchen, he placed the paintings on the
counter
. The suitcase slipped from
her
fingers. Barely aware of what she was doing, she walked over to the
counter
and caressed the top painting with the half-hidden buck staring out from
the green curtain
.

“Why did you take
these
?” she demanded.

“I didn’t. Carnal wanted it to look as if you’d packed up and
moved
. You wouldn’t have left without these.”

No, she wouldn’t. Her heart and soul
lived
in what she created.

“What are you going to do with them?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Maybe the paintings were worthless to him, something to throw out with the trash. Sick to the core, she picked up the top one.
Under it was a painting she’d finished shortly before her capture.
She
did
n’t remember what the tiny white butterflies were called, just that she’d been struck by how
starkly
they contrasted with the dark, wet rocks they’d been
on
. In reality there’d been well over a hundred butterflies when she’d snapped their picture, but she’d concentrated
o
n around twenty of them. There was something playful about the way they perched on the random rocks, as if they’d just been let out of school.

She hadn’t
truly
cried since a dart changed her life, but she did now. Clutching the buck painting to her chest, she sobbed. She was vaguely aware that her master was watching her, but she had no defense against the earthquake of emotion pummeling her.

Without her art she was
the same
as dead.

Dead.

Bit by bit the earthquake quieted, but the rumbling remained in her cells and veins. Weakness enveloped her, compelling her to set down the painting. Despite her blurred vision, she looked around. Master Bay dominated the room, but
he
wasn’t the only thing in it
.
Barely aware of what she was doing
, she lurched toward
some
kni
v
e
s
in a wood block. Her cold/hot fingers clutched a handle
,
and she
yanked it free
.

“Don’t. Damn it, don’t.”

“
Too late
.” The words spilled from her.
B
arely comprehending what she was doing, she
point
ed the blade at him
. “You don’t know. You’ll never understand.”

“Understand what?”

If he’d moved a muscle, she
’d missed it
. The knife gave her
incredible
power. With it she could—what? “You’ve killed me
.
”
Her voice sounded strong
. “You and Carnal. You think you’ve created a sex
toy
, but you’re wrong. There’s nothing left of me.”

His eyes widened while his mouth thinned.
“And you think by killing me you’ll get
that
back?”

Was she insane? What made her think she could bury
a
blade in him before he overpowered her? He’d made his living
with
his physical body while her ability to pay the bills had come from
how
nature
spoke to her
.

“Put it down,” he said softly. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Yes I do!” Suddenly the tip pressed against her throat.
A little pressure and the nightmare would be over.
“It isn’t you I want dead, it’s me.”

“Shari. Shari Isle. Believe me, you don’t want to do this. You have too much to live for.”

My name.
“What
life
?
A lifetime as a piece of meat? Someone’s property?”

“That’s what I was
.
” His hands became fists. Otherwise, he remained motionless. “I know what it feels like.”

The hell he did! “You didn’
t have to. You could have walked away.”

“Yes,” he said after a long silence, “
Even though playing football was the only thing I’d cared about since I was ten,
I could have. Shari, I don’t want you to do this.”

He knew her name. For the first time in
what felt like forever
someone had ackn
owledged
she was more than property
, had a past
. Confused, she struggled to think of something to say, but no words came out.

“
You’re a young woman. You can’t want to end your life.”
H
is attention settled on
the knife tip pressed against her throat.