Claiming My Sweet Captive

I delivered the first real blow, landing the whip hard on her ass. I hadn’t warmed her up, and she shrieked into the gag. I paused, watching as she struggled against her restraints in a fruitless effort to escape the pain that bloomed beneath her skin; the deeper burn that followed the initial sting.

She craned her head back, her watering eyes pleading for mercy as her high whimper caught behind the gag.

“Your eyes are so lovely,” I murmured, barely aware that I spoke the words aloud.

I wanted those shining tears to spill down her cheeks.

I lashed at her again, twice in rapid succession. Her chest heaved on a sob.

I had no intention of granting her a reprieve from the whip, but I wanted to take a minute to admire her. My fingers trailed over her heated, reddened flesh. She whined at the sting of my gentle touch, but she would take so much more.

“So pretty and red,” I remarked.

I gripped her ass hard, digging my fingertips into her soft cheek. “I want to see my fingerprints on your ass tomorrow. The bruises from the flogger will remind you of your punishment, but this marks you as mine.”

I increased the pressure of my cruel hold, and tears finally streamed down her cheeks. Calm settled over me, and I drew in a deep, cleansing breath.

Releasing her, I stepped back and swung the flogger down again, not giving her a moment to collect herself. She threw her head back and screamed into the gag. The sound only stoked my savage satisfaction. Her tears, her screams, were for me. I possessed her body, controlling her pain.

I spread out the burn, lashing at her upper thighs as well as her bottom. After a while, her screams turned to ragged shouts, before subsiding to soft whimpers. She quivered, her tense muscles reaching the point of exhaustion from jerking against her bonds. Finally, she went limp against the bench, her tears falling onto the leather as she cried silently.

“Good girl.” My voice came out deep and smooth. She was slipping into full submission. I just had to push a little more. “Accept your punishment. You know you’ve earned it.”

She wouldn’t try to escape me again. Not after this. Her behavior would be modified, her misguided thoughts of freedom eradicated.

Her breathing began to even out, her features going slack as her eyes turned glassy. She’d hit the quiet, peaceful headspace that could only be obtained through complete surrender. In the future, she would come to crave this release. I’d train her to love it.

I stopped whipping her, allowing the flogger to drop to the tiled floor. I began to unbuckle the straps that held her down, my fingers lingering on the pink marks they’d left on her creamy skin. Hardly aware of what I was doing, I murmured soothing words in my native tongue, telling her how pleased I was with her, how well she’d taken her punishment.

She was a ragdoll in my arms as I lifted her up, cuddling her close. Her tears wet my skin, and I relished their warmth as they slid down my chest.

By the time I carried her into the bedroom, she’d fallen into sleep. I tucked her under the covers and got into bed beside her, pulling her back flush with my chest as I shaped my body around hers. My cock was still semi-hard, but my lust was subsiding. I’d achieved a deeper satisfaction than any orgasm could give me. I possessed the beautiful creature in my arms.

With that knowledge, I followed her down into peaceful, contented sleep within minutes.

Chapter 8

I shifted on my feet as the elevator ascended to my penthouse, anxious to get back to Samantha. I’d avoided my brother today, but I’d still had to “oversee” a transaction with the Latin Kings to push Bliss into the Chicago clubs. My presence was meant to intimidate, my scarred face a warning to those who might cross Cristian Moreno. I much preferred the days when my work consisted of keeping the books and coordinating meets between key players in our organization. I craved solitude and quiet, not issuing threats when reckless fools reached for their weapons.

Tensions ran high between our men and the Latin Kings. We were only connected by a loose alliance, in which we both profited from trafficking Bliss and cocaine. Our people brought the products into the country from Colombia, and the Kings distributed it on the streets, putting themselves in the authorities’ crosshairs while we remained mostly under the radar.

The revelation that Samantha had been watching our people was troubling. If the FBI was investigating my brother, our position here might be in jeopardy.

It was essential that I secure Samantha’s compliance. We needed her to work against the Bureau to protect us.

My hand twitched at the memory of the whip in my fist as I swung it down on her tender flesh. I couldn’t wait to inspect the marks I’d left on her skin. I’d seen some of the bruises when I slipped out of bed this morning, but they would’ve darkened further by now. The brand might only be temporary, but this first time, I’d savor the evidence of our power exchange.

I stepped out of the elevator and paused in the sitting room. Feminine voices drifted through the open doorway to the bedroom. I’d given Lauren very specific instructions about how to care for Samantha today in my absence, but I’d expected her to be gone by now.

It sounded as though she’d been held up by a heated conversation.

“I’m not going to roll over and give up just because you told me to,” Samantha’s words became clearer as I took another step toward the bedroom. “I’m not going to behave for my sadistic captor who gets off on torturing women, no matter what you say.”

My stomach twisted at her description of me. Perhaps I had been a touch sadistic with her last night, but my measured punishment had been far from torture.

I realized my captive didn’t have the faintest idea what torture truly was. Maybe I should be gentler with her.

I resolved to keep her out of the playroom until she was ready to face it again. Unless she really did something to deserve it. Now that I’d set a precedent for discipline, I couldn’t alter the dynamic between us.