To Kiss A King

Even if I got out of this alive, I doubted I could convince him to give me a second chance at an interview if I missed it. What would I say? I missed the appointment because I’d been kidnapped. For the King family that valued their privacy according to all reports, the last thing they would want was an employee who might make headlines.

I buried my face in my hands and let the tears out. I wanted all the sadness gone when the asshole returned. He would face my wrath no matter how that might condemn me.

FOUR

Time was meaningless in the darkened pit I was being held in. The only thing to mark time outside of my scattered thoughts was my body’s needs. This time, my stomach made its presence known with a growl.

When was my last meal? I couldn’t remember if I’d had breakfast. I’d been so nervous about my interview; I think I barely touched it. Then lunch hadn’t happened, and I did not know if I’d be fed or not.

I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. Still perched against the door, I laid my head on the top of my knees. Things could be worse, and I was still alive. There was still a chance I could get through this. I ignored the ugly thoughts about what worse could be as I tried to think about anything else.

When the door opened, I’d been dozing and caught off guard. My back hit the floor, and I had my first view of the hallway as I lay halfway in and halfway out. The corridor was dark. The single bulb above me didn’t illuminate far beyond the man that loomed over me.

I didn’t think, and that would be my downfall. I acted using a move I’d seen on YouTube. I came up off the floor swinging and connected with that fleshy part between his legs. He bent down, and I ducked under his hulking form and took my first running step with my right leg.

He caught my hair. Even if he hadn’t, my left leg was yanked to a stop as I tried to run. I remembered the leg restraint far too late. He spun me around and braced his arm around my chest. His big hand covered my left breast and squeezed. It wasn’t the playful possession during a love session when things got a little rough. It was the knee-buckling kind from pain.

“Don’t like it much, do you?” His hot breath fanned my ear as he spoke.

I whimpered from what he did as much from my failure. I’d wasted an opportunity of escape, having forgotten the major detail of the chain attached to my leg. It was likely he wouldn’t set me free of the thing anytime soon because I’d proven myself to be a flight risk.

“I didn’t want to hurt you. But make no mistake, if you hurt me, I’ll hurt you back. Equal rights and all that.”

Color me dumb, because I stomped on his foot, letting out my frustration. He laughed before his other hand caught my throat. Air became hard to find. When he pinched my nipple, I let out a choking gasp of whatever air remained in my lungs.

“You don’t learn,” he said, releasing some of the pressure around my neck. I was able to take in a small breath. Then it was back, and his hand rubbed my sore nipple. “I’ll say this one more time. I don’t want to hurt you. Do what you’re told, and you’ll survive this.”

He let me go with a little shove and said, “Sit on the bed.” It was a command, for sure.

Every fiber in my being wanted to defy him, but lingering pain reminded me of the consequences. I sat and glared at him with all the hate I felt, hoping he’d feel it, too.

“There are many ways to hurt someone without leaving a single mark.” His statement hit me like the lead weight it was.

Every emotion I felt manifested. I fought it back but couldn’t stop my mouth from trembling and tears from leaking from my eyes.

“You’re a bastard,” I whispered.

“What was that?” he asked. But he’d heard me. “I’m your master.” He cocked his head to the side. “Which is why you will call me King. I am yours. Call me anything else, and there will be consequences.”

I wanted to tell him it would be a cold day in hell before I called him my king or anything else. But I clamped my mouth shut. I didn’t doubt one minute he wouldn’t follow through with his threats.

“I came to see if you were hungry. But maybe you need more time to learn how to be a good girl.”

My stomach tightened at the thought of food. I was starving but refused to give in an inch. I wouldn’t openly defy him, not yet. But I could silently suffer before begging him for anything.