Claiming My Sweet Captive

I wanted her completely under my control.

She beat her fists against my lower back, but her blows felt like little more than a massage. When that accomplished nothing, she thrashed, desperate to fight her way free. “No! Please.”

She’d beg a lot more before I was finished with her. She’d scream for mercy until she couldn’t form the words to plead with me.

I’d show her who was Master and who was slave. I’d treated her with too much affection, and she’d become spoiled.

I manhandled her down onto the spanking bench, positioning her with ruthless force. I teetered on the edge of violence, and only the knowledge that I was about to extract her pain with my whip kept me from bruising her with my hands as I strapped her in place.

“What did I do wrong?” she sobbed. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t. Please.”

Once she was fully bound beneath me, I paused to stare down at my captive, my possession. She really was lovely. Her eyes were sparkling with fear, her trapped body trembling. All for me.

I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and the jagged edges of my dark thoughts smoothed slightly. Touching the leather restraints that pinned her in place grounded me. She was in my power.

I brushed my fingertips over the warm wetness spilling down her cheek. She tried to turn her face away, but there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn’t escape me.

“Please,” she whispered. “I promise I didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The promise tumbled out before I really thought about it, my desire to soothe her automatic. “Much," I amended.

Her tears fell in thick streams, running over the backs of my fingers.

“Hush now,” I cajoled, stroking her shaking body. “This isn’t a punishment.”

“But you’re angry,” she said tremulously. “You’re going to hurt me.”

“I’m not angry with you. My brother…”

She winced, and I realized my fingers had firmed on her skin, pressing too hard.

I didn’t want to talk about Cristian. I wouldn’t tell her the horrific torture he had planned for her if I didn’t succeed in bending her to my will.

I drew in another breath and resumed petting her, treating her gently now that I had her bound and at my mercy. “I need to accelerate your training. My brother is not a patient man.”

She tensed, so I shifted my attention to her silky hair, running my fingers through it in the way she liked. When I did this in our bed, she practically purred. It would work to calm her now. She didn’t need to fear Cristian when I was here to keep her safe.

“I’ll protect you,” I promised. “But I’ve been too indulgent with you. You must learn your place.”

“So, you’re going to beat me,” she said in soft accusation.

“I’m going to train you,” I countered. “You will experience a little pain, but you will enjoy it. I know you will. You like your spankings. You’ll like this, too.”

She might not have recognized the peace in her surrender after the first time I’d whipped her, but she understood submission a little better now. She’d come to learn that there was release in pain.

“I don’t want you to flog me again,” she whispered.

That was exactly what I intended to do. I just needed her to settle first. “I don’t want you to be scared of me, cosita.”

“I thought you like it when I’m frightened,” she said bitterly.

The moment soured slightly, and for some reason, I found it difficult to meet her eye. “That doesn’t mean I want you to fear me. But yes, a part of me likes your fear.”

“Please, let me up,” she begged. “You don’t have to do this.”

I focused on her again, imposing my will on her. “Yes, I do. It’s for your own good.”

I cupped her nape, squeezing her neck slightly to ground her in my control. She didn’t need to worry about what was going to happen, because she was powerless to stop me. All she could do was submit.