His Captive, The Unabridged Collection: Billionaire Dark Romance (11 page)

“I remember what you did for me, Rafe. How you bathed me... shaved me. Thank you. You’ve... c-cared for me the whole time I’ve been here.”

He stared at me hard. I felt a trickle of sweat winding its way down my ribcage. “That's true, but not completely. What are you after, Jolie?”

“I’m just trying to say thank you,” I said meekly.

He hissed through his teeth and shook his head, then lowered his chin. His stare was sharp and bored into me.

“Such a liar you are. We will have to break you of that, yes?”

“I’m not a— Please don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

My mouth opened and closed in futility.

He shrugged casually. “You’re not trying to make a liar out of
me
, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, no, I—”

“—Because I don’t lie. I don’t have to,” he said firmly.

I shook my head again, realizing things went so much better when I said nothing.

He took a deep breath. The muscle in his jaw knotted and unknotted.

“You know, the problem with most people is that they do not understand their place,” he said, his voice clear and direct. “They think that they aspire to be one thing, when in fact they never knew what they were in the first place. Do you understand?”

I nodded immediately: yes. Then corrected myself: no.

“There, you see? You are already improving. Telling the truth is difficult when you’re been trained to lie… No. When you’ve been trained to not even know the difference.”

He looked out the window, squinting into the direct, harsh morning sun.

“When a person is out of touch with their nature, they are easy to corrupt. To twist. Someone who lies… to themselves, especially… is terribly at risk, Jolie.”

He turned back to me, his stare so forceful and desperate I winced. His hands clenched the arms of the chair, the tendons on his wrists standing out like piano wires.

“Do you know who you are, Jolie?”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.

“I—I thought… I did. Yes.”

“You thought so,” he repeated slowly. “And now?”

I hesitated a moment, my mouth as dry as salt. There was my opening, and maybe my only one. I had to find out why I was really here, why he was keeping me.

“I just... want to know why I'm being kept here, Rafe. I want to know why I can't just... go home. I just want to go home. Please.” My desperation was getting the better of me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “
Please
let me go home. I'll do whatever you want. Anything. Please!”

He stared at me for a long moment, though I could see a distinct hardening in his gaze as whatever direct connection he had just shown me was systematically shut down. He stood slowly, plucking the fork from my trembling fingers and dropping it to the plate with a clatter.

“You aren't going home,” he sighed impatiently. “I thought we might have a nice conversation, Jolie. You're obviously incapable of thinking of anything but yourself.”

Without another word, he pulled my elbow until I was standing, then guided me down the short hallway. I struggled to keep up, nearly running on my tiptoes. Roughly, he pushed me forward toward the bed, then turned and left.

Every time those bolts slid shut, I felt like another had been added.

I couldn't stop fucking up. I’d promised myself baby steps, then ran like an idiot right off a cliff. He had shown me patience, and I had squandered it. It really was my fault, and I knew it.

The sun was half-sunk over the horizon, and my eyes were puffy and stinging from the crying I couldn't seem to stop. I'd been at it for hours, silently sobbing and staring off into the distance through the only connection to the outside world I had. That small sliver of sky was the only thing that existed outside this house for me.

I thought back on everything that had happened since I arrived. Every word I could have chosen more carefully, every situation I could have handled differently. Every time I tried to imagine things going differently, they ended up the same. Rafe was angry and I was imprisoned and alone, no closer to leaving this place.

No one is looking for me.

It was my own fault. I had left no one behind except Rachel, and how was she supposed to find me anyway? No family, no boyfriend, no friends… I’d been plucked out of my life like a bug crawling on a wall, and there was no one to miss me.

Not that it was Rachel’s fault. We didn’t know each other that well. I had no phone, no way of being contacted. I hadn’t even told her I was going with Rafe. Funny thing was, she was the person who knew me best at this point. Everyone else I had left behind with nothing more than a raised middle finger as a goodbye.

That was just my way: disappear without a trace. No baggage. I thought it was cleaner than dragging the carcasses of murdered friendships along with me. If things didn’t go well, I figured it was kinder to euthanize the experience.

In my senior year of High School, I was a side-fuck for Darby Collins. No,
the
side-fuck. He was gorgeous. Athletic and tall, with a low, sexy voice and blue eyes you could swim in. I'd been after him for years and after a late night at a kegger in the middle of the river, on a canoe that floated serenely under bridges, we drank until our clothes came off. That was how it started.

And he was relentless. I don’t even know if he saw much of Jennie, his cheerleader girlfriend, for those months. I don’t see how he could have, he spent so much time with me. He'd slip through my window at night and fuck me savagely. He wasn't gentle in any sense. He wildly pounded up into me, holding a hand over my mouth as if he was taking me by force. I think that's what he liked about it—I always struggled and thrashed like I didn't want it. We both knew what was going on, but it didn't make it any less hot.

It was exhilarating, knowing that I was his little secret. By day, we passed each other in the hallways with our eyes averted. He seemed to want nothing to do with me. I didn't care. I had him at night. I had
all of him
.

Of course, I eventually let it slip. I was young and stupid, and I had to brag to someone. I told my chem lab partner in a note, which she handed over to Jennie’s cheer captain, who couldn’t wait to spill it.

Jennie was beyond pissed. She pinned us both in the hallway, enraged to crimson. I looked at him, feeling sort of triumphant like now everyone would know I was his. I had his stink on me, and all the rights and privileges of that endorsement.

Instead, he denied it up and down, his lip curled in a disgusted sneer. Everyone believed him. I was immediately shunned and turned into a pariah. I was painted a liar, desperate for attention and recognition, and nothing more.

I never could keep my mouth shut.

It got me into trouble then, and it was getting me in trouble now. I was digging myself a deeper and deeper hole. At least, back then, I knew when to stop. I rolled over and accepted my new status as a social fuck-up and just tried to finish school, drawing as little attention to myself as possible. Then I left all of them behind and never looked back, starting something new somewhere else. A new me. A hermit crab with a new shell.

That was all I had to do here: hunker down, shut up, get through. I couldn't stop fucking up and I didn't know why. But Rafe had a point about being a liar. Hadn’t I let Darby’s lie twist me into something I wasn’t? Ironically: a liar who was telling the truth? It was a carnival mirror funhouse, and I got out the only way I could.

Do you know who you are, Jolie?

The words rattled through my mind over and over again, repeating until they were like a spinning mandala. Finally, exhausted as the sun seemed to be setting and the sky paled to grey, there was no way left to even answer.

Nobody.

I’m nobody.

***

Morning came again, and I didn’t even remember sleeping. When I heard the bolts turning in the door I was awake and sitting upright, my heart a rabbit banging against the bars of my chest.

Relief flooded me as his silhouette appeared in the open doorway and I found myself grinning stupidly, gratefully. I vacillated between loathing and loving him—he was evil, cruel… a serial killer or rapist or something, but he was also a kind, beautiful man. Well, kind in his own sort of way. I was surprised at that thought, but tried to clear my mind quickly as I heard him opening the door.

He wore no smile as he stood in the doorway. “Are you going to behave, Jolie?”

I immediately nodded. “Yes. I'll behave.” I couldn't say anything else. The way he said it made it sound like it was my last chance.

“You will have to be
absolutely
obedient from now on. You understand this.”

Horrible images of what that might have meant flashed through my mind, filling me with nothing short of absolute terror, but I managed to stay calm enough to give an even, measured nod.

“Yes.” The moment the word left my lips, tears began flowing from my eyes again, and I could feel my face contorting against my will.              

He stared at me, passive and unchanging, hardly seeming to react at all to the sudden shift in my demeanor. He must have seen it coming. It was only a matter of time until I was going to crumble under the fear and stress of the situation he'd put me in, and I think he knew it. My facade had come tumbling down.

Rafe walked toward the bed, putting up a hand. “Stop. I won't... have all that, now. Relax.”

I brought my hands up to my face, covering it half in shame, half in an attempt to wipe the tears that now streamed down my cheeks. I held them there for a bit too long, and I felt his long, strong fingers wrapping my wrists and pulling them away. There was a definite gentleness to the motion, but it was insistent and firm.

“I know this isn't easy for you, as I said. I'll offer you a small consolation if you'll stop crying, but not until you do.”

My shoulders shook uncontrollably, though I tried to nod my assent.

“Jolie? would you like that?” he repeated, louder.

“Ye-yes,” I finally managed to get out.

“Good. Yes. You may ask me one question, and I will answer it completely honestly. Isn’t that good?”

I nodded, sniffling hard and wet.

“Jolie?” he said loudly over my snuffling, “we can do this once a day if you like, if you're obedient. That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to soothe you, to allay your concerns and fears. Now, think hard on what you'll ask, stop crying, and ask it.”

He released my hands and laced his fingers in front of his waist.

I eventually collected myself enough to stop crying, and took a slow, even breath to prepare myself. I brought my eyes to his, asking the only question I really wanted the answer to. The rest could come later. I would be good long enough to find out everything I needed to know.

“When are you going to let me go?”

He spoke immediately, as if he knew the question before it passed my lips.

“I will not let you go.”

I opened my mouth to try to ask some follow-up question, search for some clarification, find some opening I could escape through, any way that I could leave. He held a finger up, his eyes narrowing at me. I closed my mouth then, knowing that I'd said all I could, and he'd said all he was going to.

“Now, you obey.” He rose and came to stand over me. “Every command, without hesitation. You
will
obey.”

I gave a soft, shaking nod. What choice did I have?

He brought the bolt of cloth down from the edge of the headboard and tied it carefully around my eyes. The clasps of the thin dressing gown I'd been clothed in were undone at my shoulders, and I felt him pulling it down my body, exposing me completely. The silken cloth piled at the bottom of the bed around my still-bruised ankle, and I shivered at the feeling of his fingertips sliding along me as he began exploring me anew.

There was a definite gentleness to those first few moments, almost as if he was worshiping me, but the notion was dispelled quickly when he grasped both of my nipples firmly. I cried out and tried to jerk back, my hand instinctively coming to grab at his wrist to try to pull him away. The moment my fingers wrapped around, I knew I'd made a mistake, and quickly pulled back.

“Good girl. Relax.”

As soon as he said the word, I did.
Relax
. My breath came out in a whoosh and I felt my body steady.

Obedient. Do it.

My heart beat slowly went back to near normal as he walked around the bed, prowling like a cat.

“I’ve been thinking about you quite a bit, Jolie, quite a bit. You… intrigue me.”

I blinked against the blindfold pointlessly, turning my head toward where I thought he was.

“You stir something in me. Something unexpected. Something I would like to explore. Is that all right?”

I bit my lips together, wondering what he meant by that, and instantly felt another hard tweak of my nipples, causing me to yelp.

“I’m sorry, Jolie, but I really must insist that you answer me when I ask you a question. Yes?”

“Y—Yes!” I said instantly.

“That’s better, pet,” he cooed. I felt his warm hands cup under my breasts gently, soothing them.

“That will be the foundation of our trust.
Honesty
. Absolute honesty.”

I shook my head urgently as my skin prickled with fear and… something else.

“I confess that I have tried to avoid you, to treat you as a guest and nothing more but…” He sighed heavily. I smelled the spicy musk of his cologne and felt my back arch unconsciously toward him.

“Time and again I find myself in this hallway, if not physically then mentally. My mind wanders back to you,” he whispered in a low grumble that I strained to hear.

“It seems improbable, and yet…” the pads of his thumbs slid across my nipples, pebbling them instantly.

“Ah yes,” he sighed. “So responsive. So pliable, yet so fierce.”

I felt his fingers drift along the sensitive skin at the side of my breasts, then come to meet his thumb. He plucked at me gently.

“I would like to explore this more fully, Jolie, if you are willing. Yes?”

I nodded fervently and felt his breath against the lobe of my ear. He was very close.

“Say the word, Jolie,” he whispered hotly in my ear.

“Yes,” I gasped.

My chest rose and fell more and more rapidly the more he pinched and pulled at my nipples, becoming more and more forceful by the moment. He rolled them between his thumb and forefinger, pulling up toward him, causing my back to arch hard in an attempt to alleviate the pressure.

He held me just like that for an agonizingly long moment, only the arch of my back keeping my whole body weight from resting at the joining of his fingers and my nipples. My muscles quivered under the strain, and just as they gave out, he released me.

“Ah yes, this is good. You're an obedient one. I think that’s your nature, truth be told. It seems your petulant, self-indulgent antagonism was short-lived. That's good. And it wasn’t so fruitful, was it? You must admit, this is better.”

His fingers trailed down my chest and belly then, urging my legs apart with a light touch at each of my thighs. I didn't need to be pushed. The excitement of being so completely helpless drove me to spread them for him.

He stroked softly at my now-soaked slit, his fingertip slipping into me just slightly at the end of each stroke. As he went on, he pushed more and more into me, the entire length of his finger—and soon, his palm—still stimulating my clit as he worked into me. I moaned and whimpered unrestrained now, having nothing left to hide from him. I couldn't hide my pleasure, my pain, my sadness... nothing. I was completely exposed to him.

He worked a second finger into me quickly, pumping and pulling up roughly inside before long. I cried out and jerked my hips up and away, only to find his other hand shoving them back down to the bed. As intense and borderline painful as the stimulation was, it quickly gave way to an unbelievable pleasure.

I'd almost forgotten how skilled he was with his hands, and soon found myself lost in the sensation entirely. Even behind the blindfold, my eyes drifted closed, imagining exactly what those long, thick fingers looked like as they were being plunged deep into me.

One of those wonderful lengths slipped from me, and my small whimper of protest turned into a loud yelp of surprise as he drove it almost uncaringly into my ass. I heard a low, growled half-moan of enjoyment from him as he began pumping me again. His weight tilted the mattress as he slid next to me and I could feel the rock-hard throb of his cock through his trousers.