Claiming My Sweet Captive

“Yes,” she begged on a ragged whisper. “Please.”

Please. She was begging. I’d make her plead more specifically for what she wanted; what we hadn’t shared last night, even though we’d both wanted it.

I maneuvered her body into place, stretching her out on the mattress. I towered over her, and she stared up at me, wide-eyed and waiting. Trusting. Wanting.

A grin lit my features. “I do like when you look at me like that, sirenita.” I reached for my zipper and freed myself from my slacks. She licked her lips, and I growled in satisfaction. “Are you as hungry for my cock as you were last night?”

She nodded, her pulse jumping at her throat.

“But what about your pussy?” I asked, my voice dropping deeper, rougher. “I could have fucked you last night. But you weren’t aware enough to know what you would be agreeing to. You weren’t capable of knowing what you were begging for.” I began to stroke my shaft. “This is what you’re begging for. I’m going to fuck you, Samantha.”

She didn’t say anything, so I continued. “You have to beg me.” I fixed her in my steady stare, imposing my will on her. “Beg me to fuck you.”

“Andrés…”

Confusion clouded the lust in her eyes, and her delicate features tightened with unease. I watched as her desire melted away, my stomach souring.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice small. “I don’t want to. Not like this.”

My teeth clenched, my jaw working as I suppressed the brutal instinct to possess her, to force her to accept me. That cruel impulse felt better than the rejection that gnawed at my gut.

I clung onto control by a thread, managing to tuck my raging hard-on back into my slacks.

She’d beg me to fuck her, or she’d get nothing at all.

Yes, punishing her through erotic denial eased some of the burning in my chest. Knowing that I was managing to hurt her in this way felt better, even if my stomach was twisting.

I turned sharply and started walking away from her.

“Wait,” she called out. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

I paused on her apology, the pain in her whisper calming me just enough that some of my wits returned. I’d almost forgotten something important.

I rounded on her, striding back toward the bed. Her eyes sparked with something I couldn’t quite identify, so I chose to ignore it. Instead, I picked up the c

ollar that was already chained to the bedpost and locked it around her neck.

I turned to leave, but she caught my wrist. I could have easily jerked my arm away, but I stilled.

“Wait,” she beseeched. “Don’t leave like this. I didn’t want to upset you. I just… I can’t give you what you want.”

I mastered my black emotions, summoning up my usual cool composure. “I won’t force myself on you.” I wouldn’t lose control like that. I’d sworn to her that she’d beg me to fuck her before I’d give her the satisfaction of my cock stretching her tight pussy, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She lifted my hand to her lips and kissed it, the brush of her lips contrite.

The last of my anger deflated as I realized the truth: I wouldn’t force her because I wouldn’t betray her like that. I wouldn’t spoil my claim over her by taking her virginity without her consent. Not when I craved for her to surrender it to me freely, eagerly.

I blew out a shuddering breath, and most of the furious tension eased from my muscles. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers in an apologetic kiss of my own. “I’ll see you tonight,” I promised. I needed to leave, needed some space to finish cooling off and to get the last of my possessive lust under control.

The knowledge that she was chained to my bed helped calm me. She’d still be here when I returned. She didn’t have a choice.

“A board game?” she asked, nonplussed. “You want to play a game that involves an actual board?”

My brows rose as I set the chess board, placing the white pieces in front of her. “Is there some other kind?”

“You’re kidding, right? How about World of Warcraft? You know, something with multi-layered storytelling, cool effects, and kick-ass heroes?” She gestured at the board. “Who’s the hero in this game? What’s the story? There isn’t one. It’s just us, staring at some funny pieces that don’t have any special abilities at all.”

“Chess is a battle of wits. It’s just you, against me. But you can be the hero in this scenario, if you want.” My smile was a touch indulgent. All my consternation had melted when I’d returned to find her sprawled out naked on my bed, right where she belonged.