Enslaved (Devil's Kiss) (8 page)

And that did me in. I fell to my knees and let him pull me against him. I let it all go—the confusion, guilt, and fear. It’d been a long time since someone cared. Of course, that only made me cry harder, but I did it in the shelter of his embrace, and a small part of me pieced itself back together again.

11. F
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Going to work made me a nervous wreck, and it didn’t help my mental state when I couldn’t find my journal. That was just what I needed—punishment to compound punishment. I went through the normal morning ritual of placing his coffee on the desk, and then pulled out my iPad. I couldn’t meet Gage’s eyes as he delegated the morning tasks. I avoided him as much as possible until lunchtime, when he called me into his office.
 

“Lock the door.”

I obeyed and stood before him, eyes downcast, feeling as if my disobedience was a flashing sign on my forehead; withholding this from him all morning was eating me alive.
 

I have to tell him . . .

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

I nodded. “I need to tell you something, Master, but I’d rather not tell you here. Can I come to your place tonight?”

He tapped his fingers on the desk, and when I found the courage to face him, his eyes had darkened to indigo. “Why don’t we just get this over with now? Your punishment can wait until tonight, but you need to be upfront with me.”

I bit my lip. “You’re going to be angry.”
 

“Angry doesn’t describe it, Kayla.” His mouth flattened into an unforgiving line. “You forgot your journal at my house last night. I drove to your place to drop it off.”

My body went cold, and I folded myself into my arms, as if I could simply disappear into them. “You saw?”

“I expect you on my doorstep at nine. In the meantime, you need to get out of here before I explode.”

I scampered from his office, making myself scarce for the rest of the day. That evening I spent as much time as possible at the hospital, playing a memory card game with Eve. The only bright point in my day was how much healthier she looked. I kissed her goodnight and left shortly after eight-thirty. I wasn’t about to arrive at Gage’s a second late.
 

The instant he opened the door, I threw myself at his feet. “Please, Master, forgive me.” I planted my sweaty palms on the floor and studied the varying colors in the hardwood. Several seconds ticked by—seconds that seemed more like minutes. I held my breath and counted every beat of my heart.
 

“Look at me.”
 

I raised my head. Tears spilled over, and no amount of willpower would stop them. Dread roiled in my stomach, and I knew with absolute certainty I wouldn’t get a smidgeon of mercy from him.
 

“Did you have sex with him?”

“No, Master.”

He narrowed his eyes. “But you wanted to.”
 

I paused at his tone; he sounded much too confident. “Yes, Master.”
 

“Get up.”
 

I scrambled to my feet, limbs shaking, and bowed my head. “I’m sorry, Master. Please forgive me.”
 

He grabbed my hand. “Come.”
 

“Are you going to punish me, Master?” Stupid question. Punishment was inevitable; it was the way in which he planned to carry it out that worried me.

“Yes.” He was too calm. He’d shown more reaction at innocent things, like when Tom had asked me out at work, or even when the waiter had smiled at me. Gage’s cool demeanor was more terrifying than his rage. I wanted to turn and bolt for the door, but entertaining the notion of escape was an impossible temptation I couldn’t succumb to. Like the dutiful slave he’d turned me into, I didn’t fight him as he ushered me down to the basement.
 

And my world came to a grinding halt. Oh, my God . . . I blinked several times, but Ian was still standing in front of me. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
 

I fell to my knees and grabbed onto Gage’s slacks. “Please, Master,
please
, I’m begging you. Don’t involve him in this.”
 

“I didn’t involve him, Kayla. You did.”
 

I gasped for air, as if he’d punched me in the stomach. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ian take a step toward me. He faltered when Gage raised a hand.
 

“Tell him who you belong to,” Gage demanded, and when I didn’t answer, he yanked me back by the hair.
 

“I belong to you, Master.”

Ian sprung into motion. “You’re not a fucking possession!” He closed the distance in three long strides. “Get up, Kayla. I’m taking you home.”

Gage glared at him. “You said you’d cooperate, or do I need to carry out my threat?”
 

Ian bunched his hands. “I’ll beat the shit out of you if you hurt her.”
 

“I haven’t done anything she hasn’t agreed to.” Gage let go of my hair.

“Is this true?” Ian asked, his eyes wandering to mine.
 

My face flamed under his perusal. “Permission to speak to him, Master?”

“Go ahead.”
 

“I did it for Eve. He was going to send me to jail if I didn’t.”
 

“Jesus . . . that’s not consent, that’s blackmail.”

“Technicalities,” Gage said with a wave of his hand. “She’ll agree to whatever I want, and what I want is to fuck her hard while you watch. If you care about her, you’ll cooperate.”
 

“Give us a minute alone,” Ian demanded.
 

“Absolutely not.”

“This is bullshit! I’m going to the police.”
 

“No!” I cried. “You can’t.”
 

“You’ve got five minutes,” Gage snapped, “but keep your damn hands off her, got it?” He drew my attention back to him. “Don’t you dare move from your knees.”
 

Ian waited until we were alone before he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me you were being blackmailed?”

“I couldn’t.” I shifted, uncomfortable with being on my knees in front of him. “I don’t know how much he told you—”
 

“He said you embezzled money for Eve’s medical bills, and in return for his . . . discretion . . . you agreed to . . .” He shook his head, and I said the words for him, since there was no point watering down anything in this situation.

“I agreed to be his sex slave.”

“Jesus, Kayla, this is insane. We can go to the police—I’m sure they’ll be able to do something—”
 

“No. If I do that, he won’t pay for Eve’s treatment. She’s getting better—” I broke off, overcome with emotion “—if they stop now, she’ll die.”
 

Ian took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I can’t watch him rape you. Don’t ask me to do this.”
 

“It’s not rape.” My voice shook as I said the words. I’d become an expert at convincing myself of half-truths, of justifying the thin line on which I’d found myself. Now I had to do the same with Ian. “I wouldn’t ask otherwise, but it’s Eve . . . please, Ian, I know she’s not yours, but—”
 

“Don’t.” He fisted his hands. “You know how I feel about you. I’d do anything for you, but this?” He shook his head, and my heart dropped. Would he ever look at me the same way again after tonight? “I can’t watch him hurt you.”
 

“You won’t have to,” Gage announced as he came down the stairs. “She enjoys my cock.” He stood, feet shoulder-width apart, and crossed his arms. “However, I doubt she’ll enjoy watching you fuck another woman.” He smiled toward the top of the stairs, and the axis of my world all but shattered when Katherine sauntered into the basement. She halted at Gage’s side and looked down her nose, giving me a haughty once-over.
 

This wasn’t happening . . . the thought of Ian with that . . . that complete bitch was too much. “Please, Master, don’t ask him to do this.”
 

“I’m not, you are, and if he doesn’t agree, he’ll live knowing that you suffered the consequences.”
 

Ian took a step forward. “You sick—”
 

“Ask him, Kayla,” Gage interrupted.
 

“No.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Seems my slave has backpedaled in her training. Yes or no, Dr. Kaplan?”
 

My pulse pounded through my body as Ian appeared to battle with himself. Half of me—the young girl who still loved him—wanted to scream for him to say no, but the more dominant half remained silent; maternal instinct would always win in the end.
 

Ian folded his arms and gave a small nod.
 

“Katherine, treat our guest to your services. The couch will suffice.”

“My pleasure.” She glided across the room and curled her hand around his bicep. “C’mon, lover, I’ll show you a good time.”
 

Ian didn’t budge. He trapped me in his questioning gaze—a silent plea in the depths of intense hazel.

I mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and then blinked back tears as he let Katherine haul him over to the couch. He collapsed and dragged a hand down his face.
 

“Strip,” Gage commanded me.

I rose to my feet and brought my hands to my blouse, going on autopilot as I unhooked the buttons. Much too conscious of Ian sitting a few feet away, I kept my eyes on Gage the whole time, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man I’d seen lurking underneath during the weekend. His face displayed only calculated focus, driven by jealousy. Out of all the mistakes I could have made, this was surely the worst, for I belonged to him and he’d accept nothing less. The blouse fell from my shoulders. I reached for the front hook of my bra and sensed Ian’s gaze on my breasts, so tangibly it could have been his touch.
 

Gage kneeled, yanking my skirt and panties down, and I stepped outside the puddle of clothing. Tears streamed down my cheeks—a testament of lost dignity. Not that he’d left me with much to begin with.
 

“How does it make you feel to know he’ll see who you really are?”
 

I almost vomited at the thought.
 

He pulled me against him. “Does the idea excite you?”
 

“No, Master.”
 

“Do you love him?”

“You know I do, Master.”
 

Gage turned me around and bent me over the bed. Grabbing my hair, he forced my face in Ian’s direction. “Do you think he’ll still love you after I’ve fucked you and made you scream my name in front of him?”

Through my tears, I saw Katherine kiss her way down Ian’s chest, and my heart shattered when he twisted his head away. “No,” I choked.
 

Ian clenched his hands when Gage took me from behind, his thrusts rough and unforgiving. He whispered into my ear, “You’re going to come for me, or I’ll take your disobedience out on him.” He buried his fingers between my legs and did what he did best.

I closed my eyes, shut off my mind to Ian’s tortured expression, Katherine’s smugness, and Gage’s cruelty. And I did what Gage had trained me to do—I obeyed, only I imagined it was Ian pounding into me, that it was his body slick against mine as I neared climax. When I opened my eyes, the sight on the couch stole my breath in agony. Katherine’s head was buried in Ian’s lap, and his knuckles had gone white as he gripped the cushions. He flung his head back and groaned. Hatred rushed through my blood, every last ounce of it compelling me to rebel. I made an even bigger mistake, though I didn’t delude myself into believing I did it accidentally. As Gage wrenched my head back and commanded my orgasm, I screamed Ian’s name at the top of my lungs.
 

12. R
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I found Ian’s car parked in my driveway when I returned home early the next morning. Maybe I should have been more alarmed, considering our forbidden embrace had started this madness to begin with, but after suffering through an intense beating from Gage, I was numb as I struggled to make it to the doorway. Gage had obliterated any positive feelings I’d harbored for him when he’d forced Ian and me into such a sick situation. The last root of that connection withered away as he’d strung me up on my toes, whipping me for hours and showing no mercy until I’d uttered the name I’d vowed to never say. The only thing saving me from jail was the fact that “Rick” was no longer my safe word, since according to our contract, I didn’t have one anymore. But Gage had honored it anyway; he’d dropped the bloodied whip before unhooking me, and then had fallen to his knees as I collapsed to mine.
 

He hadn’t protested as I dressed and headed toward the stairs, and I’d left without a word.
 

“What’d he do to you?” Ian choked out. Redness rimmed his eyes. “I didn’t want to leave you—”
 

“You didn’t have a choice.” I moved past him to my door. “You shouldn’t be here. This is how it all started.”

“I know . . . Kayla, I had to see you.” His presence overpowered the small space of my front porch. “Did he hurt you?”
 

“Nothing he hasn’t done before.” Another half-truth. Gage had never been so brutal. I probably wouldn’t sit for days. My arms were like deadweight, and I couldn’t hide a wince as I lifted my key toward the lock. Thank God my coat sleeves hid the red marks circling my wrists. “I’m sorry I got you caught up in this.” I pushed the door open and held it between us. “Please go. You’re better off forgetting about me.”