Claiming My Sweet Captive

She tried to push me away, but I easily captured her wrists and secured them at the small of her back with one hand. With her hands trapped, she no longer held up the bedsheet, and the fabric dipped slightly to reveal the upper swell of her small breasts.

After the few seconds it took to subdue her, I resumed stroking her hair as though there had been no interruption. I would touch her how I wanted, when I wanted. She needed to learn.

“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for threatening you,” I responded, a calm statement of fact. “I ordered him not to speak to you or look at you. He did both. I can’t have a man in my organization who thinks he can disobey me.”

“So, you murder anyone who defies you?” Her melodic voice shook slightly. I could feel her pulse jump where I held her delicate wrists.

She didn’t understand yet that I wouldn’t harm her. Now that she was mine, no harm would come to her ever again.

No one would ever cause her pain.

Except me.

“I will never harm you, Samantha,” I promised, careful with my words. She didn’t need me to reveal my darkest plans for her yet. She wasn’t ready to truly understand what I wanted from her.

“No matter how defiant you may be,” I added, my scar tugging with another strange smile.

“But you spanked me. You said you want to punish me.” Even in her fearful state, she

remained argumentative. Her innocent, submissive nature didn’t diminish her fire.

“Only to correct your misbehavior,” I reminded her. “I’d never do anything that would damage you. But yes, I won’t hesitate to punish you when you deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve any of this,” she countered hotly, tugging uselessly against my grip on her wrists. It only took a fraction of my strength to keep her locked in place.

She was fragile, yet strong.

Fascinating. Bending her to my will would take time.

That thought cooled some of my mounting desire. I wasn’t certain how much time I had. I wanted to savor the process of taming my pretty captive. I wanted to train her, so she lived to please me.

She would be mine completely, but Cristian had his own timeframe in mind to coerce her compliance with his plans for her.

She’d claimed she didn’t deserve this, but that didn’t matter.

“Maybe not,” I allowed. “But you’re mine now, and there’s no going back. I’m keeping you, and you’re my responsibility.”

“I’m not yours,” she insisted, her eyes sparking. “And you’re not keeping me. You said that’s your brother’s decision. Did you tell him you believe I’m FBI? Have you both seen reason and decided to let me go before the Bureau comes for you?”

Just having her mention Cristian cooled all that remained of my lust. I didn’t want her to talk about him. I didn’t want her to think about him.

But even now, I could hear the soft slide of my elevator doors opening in the next room, granting my brother access to my home.

“I’ll let him discuss this with you,” I replied, pulling up my carefully blank mask.

I finally released her wrists and wrapped my hand around her nape, guiding her up onto her feet so she stood beside me. She clutched the sheets, covering her body.

Good.

I didn’t want Cristian to see her naked. I might have shamefully coveted the first glimpse of her when he sliced her clothes away with his wicked knife, but he would never lay eyes on her bare flesh again.

“Behave,” I commanded, a low warning in my tone accompanied by a soft squeeze on her neck to reinforce my control.

I called out in Spanish, inviting my brother and his two bodyguards into my room. My permission wasn’t necessary, but I preferred to keep the illusion that it was.

As soon as Cristian entered the bedroom, Samantha shrank into herself, her fire dimming. She took a small step back, moving closer to me.

Was she looking to me for protection? Or was she simply trying to put distance between her fragile body and my sadistic brother?