Claiming My Sweet Captive

I released her throat so I could stroke my fingertips down the column of her slender neck. “Breathe. You spook very easily, cosita. But you will learn to crave me. All of me. My hand, my mouth, my cock. You will accept me.”

“I won’t.”

I opened my mouth to correct her, but I was interrupted by a sharp knock on my bedroom door. I scowled. My people should know better than to interrupt me in my penthouse.

Then the man called out in Spanish, letting me know Cristian wanted to see me.

That was the only reason anyone would dare disturb me. I didn’t keep my phone on me when I was in the privacy of my own suite, because this was my time for myself. But if my brother wanted to meet with me, nothing would stop him from invading my privacy.

I barked back that I would be there shortly before returning my attention to Samantha. “I have business to attend to,” I informed her. “We will work on this later.” I stared down at her, considering what to do with her. “I need to get dressed. Can I trust you not to try to attack me again once my back is turned?”

She frowned at me and lifted her chin in defiance.

I frowned back at her. I didn’t like her challenging posture.

Then she shivered and softened, and my frown melted into a pleased smile. Despite my displeasure with her attitude, I found her fascinating. I tucked a stray lock of copper hair behind her ear. “So frightened, but so defiant,” I observed. “I’m going to have to restrain you, aren’t I?” Dark desire stirred within me at the prospect. I remembered her writhing in my cuffs, and my cock began to stiffen again.

She jerked against my hold, but my fingers remained firm around her wrists. “No,” she defied me.

“So, you won’t try to attack me as soon as I release you?”

She continued to struggle, and a cute little growl slipped between her bared teeth. I laughed, the sound feeling strange in my throat.

“Such an angry gatita. Maybe I should keep you in a cage. Would that tame you?”

“I don’t need to be tamed,” she shot back. “I told you the truth. I’m a federal agent. You said you believe me. If you do, then you know you can’t risk hurting me. My friends at the Bureau won’t stop looking for me, and if you’ve…if you’ve hurt me when they find me, they won’t show you any mercy. You have to let me go.”

Some of my anger returned, but it wasn’t directed at her. My lips twisted in distaste around my next words. “That’s up to my brother to decide.” I hated that the decision rested with him. I’d do anything within my power to keep Samantha. “Until he does, you’re mine.”

“You keep saying that,” she hissed. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that, right? You’re—”

I pressed my palm firmly against her lips, my frown deepening to something more forbidding. “You will learn to mind your language when you’re speaking to me. I need to get dressed, and you need to be quiet and behave while I’m gone. How comfortable you are while I’m out attending to my business is up to you. I can gag you and cage you, or I can leave you free to move around the suite. Make your choice.”

Her eyes finally left mine to search the room, as though she didn’t quite believe me. She needed to see it for herself, so she could understand. I knew the moment she saw the iron bars beneath my bed when she sucked in a sharp breath. Her

eyes widened with fear as she processed the fact that it truly was a cage, and I wouldn’t hesitate to keep her in there if she continued to defy me.

“Choose,” I demanded, my voice roughening with arousal at the thought of her caged beneath my bed, waiting for me to return and resume her training. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, or am I going to have to cage you beneath my bed like a naughty gatita?”

My cock pressed into her belly, and she tried to shake her head as best she could with my hand pressed against her mouth.

I studied her for a moment longer. As much as I liked the idea, I wouldn’t cage her if she agreed to behave. I had to be consistent, so she knew her behavior had consequences.

Finally, I nodded and stepped back, freeing her body from mine. I kept hold of her wrists and began tugging her toward the bed.

“Please,” she gasped. “I don’t want to go in there.”

“I’m not going to put you in the cage,” I reassured her. “You’ve already been punished for your transgressions. I told you: I might seem harsh, but I’m fair.”

“So you’re not going to lock me up?”

I glanced back at her, smirking. “I didn’t say that.”

I directed her to sit on the bed and pressed her hands into her lap. “Put your hands on your knees, and keep them there. If you try to fight me again, I think you understand what the consequence will be.”

I finally released her, and she slowly directed her trembling hands to her knees, pressing her palms against them and locking her fingers around her kneecaps. I curled two fingers beneath her chin, applying light pressure. She had no choice but to lift her head and straighten her spine.

“Shoulders back,” I ordered.