My Lady Captive (3 page)

“I will be here for exactly one week, Alexei,
and that is all the time you will have to try and exact your
price!” he challenged angrily.

“Ah, Khrisinan, if only you would become
willing. Our destiny together would be inspired. You yielded once .
. .”

“Enough!” Wyndham snapped, furious, while his
hold on Orèlan became harsh with tension. Then, his cheeks flushed
hotly, before he could contain it, in a visual display of his
ragged emotions. “One week, Alexei!” he finished through his
clenched teeth.

“Ah,” Alexei sighed dramatically, while his
thin fingers stroked the top of the chair he stood beside, in a
momentarily effeminate gesture. “If you insist, my oh-so big and
virile
Puskinta
. Nonetheless, you understand my house rules.
They cannot change. Everything has its price and if you please me .
. .” Alexei shrugged his rangy shoulders, once more adopting his
elegant military officer’s poise.

“
How
much?” Wyndham hissed.

“Mm, you know, Khrisinan . . . ,” Alexei
hedged, coming partially around the chair to sit with his booted
heels crossed negligently. “If you were to continue to punish, our
lovely
puta
here, I am quite certain that my mood would
improve. So much so, that our negotiations would assuredly turn
more favorable.”

Wyndham barely held himself from leaping up
and laying his bare hands to Alexei’s throat. Nonetheless, he was
distracted from his fury at that exact moment by Orèlan’s sudden
struggles as she tried to get away from him. “Do you want to get us
both killed instantly?” he hissed beneath his breath, as he tossed
Orèlan onto her back, onto the bed beside him.

“Make this a good showing!” Orèlan hissed
under her breath, right before she slapped his cheek, hard!

“
Bravo
, puta,” Alexei drawled behind
them.

Orèlan could not believe how quick and
powerful her golden puma was with his purply sapphire eyes snapping
retribution and other mysterious and heightened emotions. He had
her captured to his will in moments!
Thank dios
, Wyndham
managed to wrap most of her body in the bed linen, so only her
naked bottom was exposed, as he forced her belly down over his
thighs, while he sat bare-chested on the edge of the bed. Her head
dangled and her long black hair pooled on the carpet below as she
grasped Wyndham’s strong calf for precarious support, while she
bucked her hips, trying to wrestle off his lap.

Alexei wanted a good show and she was going
to give it to him, she thought frantically, because she knew it was
going to hurt . . . and the embarrassment was already overwhelming.
She cringed at the thought about what view Alexei must have of her.
There were parts of her body so helplessly exposed in the position
she was bent into. He could see her sex, from behind.
Oh,
dios.
The embarrassment was a living breathing creature inside
her, it was so acute. Then, as she struggled over the powerful
muscles of Wyndham’s thighs, she became aware of another rigid
muscle. Her Wyndham was engorged! He was enjoying what he was
doing.

“Oh,
you
beast!” she squealed as she
struggled with heightened anger, just before Wyndham’s first biting
slap stung her defenseless bare bottom.

Whack!

Orèlan sucked in a hot breath, choking on her
squeal of pain. Wyndham’s hand was so broad across her tender
buttocks.
Wack! Wack! Wack!

“Ow! Dios!”

“Use my belt, Khrisinan,” Alexei purred.

“No-no!” she cried. “Please, Wyndham, no!”
she begged even as she felt him lean forward to obliviously grasped
Alexei’s belt. She tried to use one hand to cover the vulnerability
of her bare buttocks. “Noo, please!” she pleaded.

“Damnation,” Wyndham cursed under his breath
as he grasped both of Orèlan’s wrists in one hand, pulling them
easily to the side as he slapped the doubled over leather belt in
his hand across her already rosette ass cheeks.
Thwack!

“Oww!” Orèlan screeched.

Wyndham watched Orèlan’s plush butt redden
with a welt.
Damnation
, he was furious!

“
More,
” Alexei demanded, with
excitement coloring his voice.

Wyndham’s fingers tightened around the ends
of the belt as Orèlan begged him helplessly not to whip her again.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Owww! Owww! Dios!” she squealed with choking
sobs as her rounded buttocks jerked spasmodically, and three more
welts lined the lustful crease of her stunning ass.

“Enough!” he snarled as he threw the belt at
Alexei, before he tossed a sobbing Orèlan off his thighs onto the
bed. “The price?” he demanded with a heaving chest as he stood,
facing Alexei.

Alexei’s face was tinted with lust as he
stood also, flexing the belt between his thin hands. “I begin to
believe that you do intend for this, faithless puta. to pay,
Khrisinan.” Alexei paused, and then he began to replace his belt
slowly around his slender waist. “So for you, I will exact nothing
that you would not already be willing to give me. But for her
release, I demand six actions of my own choosing . . . then we
shall see.”

Wyndham felt his gaze simmering as he stepped
forward, dangerously tense. “Six and you will be paid!” he snapped.
“And no other men or women, but me,” he finished angrily.

“You drive the most difficult bargains,
Khrisinan,” Alexei murmured, sauntering closer. Too close. “But-,”
Alexei continued, raising one hand, while asserting a challenge
through his light blue eyes, which were icy with arousal. “I shall
accept,” Alexei finished, placing his palm, which trembled, onto
Wyndham's bare left biceps.

Wyndham furiously jerked away from the touch,
and then he strode to the bed. “Leave then, I wish to fuck my
woman!”

Alexei’s laughter was offensive. “I am sure,
our little puta, will enjoy that.” Then, Alexei strode to the door,
opening it. “Just be sure that she does not enjoy it too much,
Khrisinan.”

Wyndham stood by the bed watching the door
close, and he was certain he heard Alexei say, “I will be
watching.” Or was it only his imagination?

Chapter Four

Orèlan felt the mattress moving precariously
beneath her with Wyndham’s weight as he got onto the bed. In which
position he came, she did not know as she scrambled upward to
escape, only to find her shoulders caught by his large insistent
hands. This left them kneeling, with heaving chests, facing each
other as she tried to get away, but he held her powerless. The bed
linen, which was wrapped crazily over her breasts, began to slip
toward her waist. She attempted to grab it.

“
Leave
it,” Wyndham growled, shaking
her, until the bed linen fell to her knees. “What are
you
going to do to keep me from whipping you again?” he asked
harshly.

Instinctively, Orèlan snatched her hands over
her sore buttocks with a protective gesture, which arched her bare
breasts impudently forward . . . toward Wyndham. She watched his
smoldering black-sapphire eyes lower to gaze at her naked breasts,
brazenly thrust outward, seemingly as an offering to him. Yet, she
would not remove her hands from her trembling bottom, she thought
raggedly, with tears stinging her eyes.

“What?” he demanded again harshly.

She whimpered a small sound as he shook her
and she admitted some defeat, which made her shiver, while several
hot tears scorched her cheeks. “Anything,” she hissed
scornfully.

“Then, you will go into my clothing closet
now and bend over, face down, across my boot stool, and wait for
me,” he commanded in a rough tenor voice.

Orèlan gasped, not quite understanding his
intentions, but realizing the sickness of its sound. What did he
intend to do to her? Would he whip her again? All her thoughts
scattered as he shook her again, and he exclaimed roughly. “I will
take you on your knees!”

What did he mean?
Orèlan hesitated,
afraid and anxious. Wyndham reached for his belt, pulling it loose
from his pants. “No!” she squealed, and then she scrambled off the
bed to rush quickly into the large clothing closet as Wyndham had
demanded.

The door slammed behind her and she thought
about trying to block the door closed somehow. Only she understood
that however long it took, eventually, she would have to come out
once again and face Wyndham. She eyed the circular knee-high boot
stool with its red velvet cushion on top. Perhaps, she ought to
find a weapon? Something to hit Wyndham with when he came through
the door.

Wyndham limped heavily to the bathing
chamber, his jaw drawing tight at the constant toothache feeling in
his knee. He'd already overwhelmed his leg's endurance and he
really needed his cane, but he ignored the need. He would pay with
terrible cramps that night.

When he entered the ornate gold and
pink-marbled bathing chamber, he went straight to his toiletry
satchel and lifted the flap. What he sought was in a small amber
jar with a corked lid. Taking this, he turned to leave, hoping he
was correct on the assumption that no peepholes would be placed in
the clothing closet. Let Alexei wonder what he was doing, he
thought, with grim satisfaction.

Before he entered the clothing closet, he
steeled himself, expecting anything and everything from his
spitfire, Orèlan. When he did not immediately get cracked in the
head, he nearly grinned. He would never mar Orèlan’s exquisite
beauty again so hurtfully, unless he was forced to, however a belt
struck across her ripe ass seemed to have inspired some obedience .
. .

“
What
are you going to do to me
Wyndham?” Orèlan gasped anxiously from his right.

When he swiveled to face her, he found her
wearing one of his brown hunting jackets with her spine pressed
against the wall of the closet. Her slightly slanted golden-amber
eyes were wide with flecks of glittering emotion in their depths as
he studied her long legs, bared to mid-thigh in his hunting jacket.
The backs of her calves were shapely curved, her kneecaps were
dainty, and her small bare feet were arched gracefully with painted
red toenails. The sight of her scarlet toenails stopped him for a
moment, with an immediate and insistent fertile heat curling in his
belly, as he lifted his head slowly and crooked an arrogant finger
at her. "Come here,” he commanded gruffly.

Orèlan’s gaze flicked anxiously to the stool,
and then back to him, and then down to the belt he still carried in
the same hand as the small amber bottle. “You are
so
cruel.
I hate you!” she whispered fiercely as she quickly came to stand
before him with her head lowered.

“As much as Alexei?” he asked grimly.

Her head rose sharply, tossing her long
mink-colored black hair backward like a liquid waterfall down her
back. His fist tightened around the belt.

“I . . . ,” she searched his face, moistening
her peach-tinted lips with the tip of her tongue. “I do not know,”
she finished in a whisper.

His jaw clenched tight and he dropped the
belt and jar onto the blue rug beneath their feet, just as he
grabbed Orèlan to him with both arms around her. His head descended
aggressively as he imprisoned Orèlan’s lips between the wedge made
by his hand holding her head from behind and his lips working
impatiently over her lips. Why did he always burn to kiss her? The
surrendering impassioned sound that escaped from Orèlan moments
later enslaved him even more. She had stopped struggling and simply
quickened beneath his taller frame, molding her rich and sinuous
curves to his body. Bare breasts, naked belly, and exposed pelvis,
until her hands crept over the tense muscles of his shoulders and
her mouth yielded open against the wanton sweep of his tongue.

“Omm mm,” she moaned around his tongue's
thickness sweeping her mouth with long impelling strokes. He
continued to stubbornly copulate the deep recesses of her lush
mouth, with thick mating thrust of his tongue, until his arms
around the heated satin of her naked body were the only thing
holding her upright. He understood by her eager and sensual motions
against him that she did not fully realize his free hand was
cupping her pussy, which was hot and undulating in his hand. The
lambs-wool curls covering the split peach of her sex clung and
curled around his fingers as he drew his first finger lightly along
the burning welling crease beneath.

“Dios,” she suddenly gasped, tearing her lips
from his as she shoved his chest with a hard push, then lifted her
hand swiftly to slap him.

But he caught her wrist before she could
connect and he grabbed her other wrist, piling them together into
one of his hands, which he stretched over her head. He pushed her
against the wall behind them with a muffled thud and anchored her
wrists high against the wall. She struggled up onto her tiptoes,
spitting fire at him. “Barbaro! Bastrdo! Never-never!”

Wyndham gripped Orèlan’s chin with his free
hand and he took her spitting mouth beneath his lips once again. He
forced her, and she tried not to kiss him, but he was relentless,
until she whimpered deeply in surrender.

“You will scream for me, Spitfire, but not in
defiance,” he promised in a low tenor, licking her kiss-swollen
lips in a pagan and possessive manner. She mewled, a heated
whimpering, against his mouth and he released her chin again to
search out her tender fleshed peach with his hand. She was burning
and moist against his fingertips as he stroked in between the
velvet tissue of her pouted labia lips.

“
N-n!”

When Orèlan tried to wrestle her hips away
from him, it merely seated his finger directly over the puckered
jewel of her clitoris. It was a flushed ruby, red-hot and pulsing.
He began to polish it with his finger, around and around.

“
Oh hh.
Oh,”
she moaned against
his mouth, melting now back against the wall as he continued to
stroke her dewy peach, concentrating with one finger over the ruby
of her clitoris.