Sweet Captivity

The full power of what his dirty money could get him came down on me like a hammer, deflating the last of my joy.

“What’s wrong?” He sounded a little strained.

“I don’t want anything you bought with your Bliss money,” I said quietly.

His jaw firmed. “You’ll get the books, anyway.”

“I won’t read them.”

“That’s your choice. You’ll still have them.”

I glared at him. “You’re trying to manipulate me again. You know I’ll go out of my mind and end up reading them if they’re in here.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “If you already know this, then why bother fighting me on it?”

“Because you’re a smug bastard, that’s why.”

He shook his head at me, but his smile didn’t waver. “I’m going to find a better use for that dirty mouth.”

He crossed to the bed and unlocked the chain from the bedpost. He kept the length of it attached to my collar.

“Come,” he commanded, coiling the chain around his fist and tugging gently. The pressure on my neck forced me to scramble to my feet.

“Where are we going?” I asked, having no choice but to follow him as he walked out of the bedroom.

“What was it you so charmingly called it?” he mused. “Oh, yes.” He shot a wicked smirk at me. “My torture room.”

I tried to stop in my tracks, but he kept walking. The chain pulled taut, and I stumbled forward. I fisted the metal links in both hands and yanked. His arm barely tugged back toward me, but he stopped and turned to face me.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, my breaths coming too fast as my heart raced.

“I don’t want to go in there,” I said, my voice higher than usual. “I won’t cuss at you again. I won’t.”

He shook his head, but the tilt of his lips was almost indulgent. “You will. You can’t seem to help yourself.”

“I’ll try really hard,” I promised. “Just don’t take me in there. Please.”

He took a step toward me. I flinched back. He frowned and pulled on the chain, forcing my body to tumble against his. I clutched at his shoulders for balance, but his hands had already closed around my waist to prevent me from falling.

“This is part of your training,” he said calmly. “It will feel good. Not everything in that room is meant to cause you pain.”

“It scares me,” I admitted on a shaky whisper, remembering my helplessness when he’d flogged me.

Shock obliterated my growing fear when he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against mine. I tried to jerk away from him, but his hand curved around the back of my head, holding me in place while he continued the kiss. It was gentle, coaxing. My lips began to shape to his, and he increased the pressure of his mouth on mine, turning more demanding. My body softened against him, even as my fingernails curved into his shoulders, clinging on tight.

He growled and nipped at my lower lip. I opened for him on a gasp, and his tongue invaded my mouth, sweeping in to claim me hard and deep.

This kiss was different than our first. That one had been punishing, branding. This one wasn’t tender, but it was more careful. A slow, thorough seduction.

He didn’t stop until I was desperate to draw breath, and when he finally pulled away, I gasped for air, my knees going weak as oxygen hit my system. He held me tightly against him, supporting my sagging weight with one strong arm around my lower back. His erection pressed into my hip, straining against his slacks. He still wore his suit, and I was still naked. The power dynamic should have been disconcerting, but my head was spinning from his scorching kiss.

“Are you still scared?” he asked, running his fingers through my hair.

I leaned into his touch without thought. “No,” I said, my voice strangely husky.

“I promise this isn’t going to hurt,” he swore. “Only pleasure today.”

“But I cussed at you.” I didn’t understand. “I called you a bastard.”