Claiming My Sweet Captive

I frowned and smoothed away the crease in her brow with my fingertips.

“You’re hurting,” I observed. “You didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

I wouldn’t put her through any more of the pain that Cristian had inflicted. I reached for the sedative. She cringed away from the syringe.

“My brother gave me this in case I needed to subdue you, but it will take away your pain. I told you, I’m a fair Master. I won’t hurt you if you don’t earn a punishment.”

“I don’t want it,” she said on a tight whisper.

“I decide what’s best for you from now on.”

“Please,” she begged, her body tensing again.

Unconcerned with her pleas, I carefully slid the needle into her arm. “Hush now, cosita. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

She made a slurred sound of soft defiance, but her tension eased. I stroked her hair back from her forehead, soothing her as she slipped into unconsciousness.

When I was certain that she wouldn’t feel any pain, I closed the wound before freeing her from the cuffs. Then, I removed her ruined shirt and bra. I worked methodically as I stripped her, careful not to touch her sexually. I had no desire to explore her body when she was drugged. I wanted her fully aware when I began demonstrating my claim over her, my control.

I tucked her beneath the sheets. I should return to my work. She wasn’t going anywhere and couldn’t try to escape while drugged.

But I decided I’d rather stay near her, just in case. I got ready for bed and stripped off my own clothes, deciding to wear sweatpants at the last minute rather than sleeping naked beside her. I didn’t want to frighten her too badly when she awoke. I didn’t want her to think I’d violated her in the night when she couldn’t resist me.

The very thought made me sick.

I told myself I wouldn’t touch her again until she was conscious, but my body shaped itself around hers in the night.

Chapter 2

I didn’t move away from her when I awoke the next morning. Instead, I studied the way the light streaming from the floor-to-ceiling windows played through her hair, the way it illuminated her ivory skin, making her dusting of freckles stand out. She was cute when she was like this: soft and sleepy in my arms.

Although, I found myself wanting to see her wide blue eyes again. They were remarkable, shining from within like aquamarine gemstones.

She stirred beside me and snuggled closer. A strange sensation tugged at my scar, and I realized I was smiling. It felt odd, unfamiliar.

Her brow furrowed, her eyes remaining closed for a few seconds longer as she came back to awareness.

Then her eyes snapped open, and she jerked upright. I allowed my arm to fall away from her chest, although I could have easily kept her pinned beside me. I was curious to see what she would do next. She’d proven feisty thus far, brave and defiant. But reasonable and compliant when she realized she couldn’t fight me.

Would that same fire persist this morning? Or would she tremble and cry?

I wasn’t sure which outcome I’d prefer. I found her especially alluring with pretty tears glistening on her cheeks.

She gasped and scrambled away from me, tumbling off the bed to fall on her ass. I smothered a laugh as she pushed up onto her feet and began to back away. Her eyes were wide and wary when they locked on mine.

Beautiful.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her nipples pebbled. I wasn’t sure if it was in response to cool air or the weight of my gaze on her. She clapped her hands over her breasts and pussy, trying to hide herself from me.

She really was cute.

Her eyes began to shine, tears pooling at the c

orners. Something dark stirred inside my chest; a deep, perverse satisfaction.

“I thought you were my blanket,” she blurted out.

My smile widened, stretching my scar strangely. I certainly hadn’t expected her to say anything like that. I propped up on one elbow and studied her more intently, fascinated. No woman had ever reacted like this when realizing she was trapped with a monster.