Captive Beauty

“Yes, shall I make you some?”

“Yes, please. And scrambled eggs. I’m starving this morning.”

“Right away. Go and have a seat and I’ll bring—”

“I’ll wait here. Thanks.” I sip my coffee.

Helen looks at me like she’s surprised, then resumes her work. “Suit yourself.”

“Is Kill here?”

“No, he left last night.”

“Did he say when he’d be back?”

“No, dear.”

Perfect. I sip my coffee while the girl scrambles two eggs next to the frying bacon. When it’s ready, I take the plate from the tray Helen is preparing.

“I’ll eat in the library.” I turn to leave. “Oh, and Helen, my room needs to be cleaned up. I made a bit of a mess, I’m afraid.” I want her kept busy because I have a plan.

“I’ll go up there in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you.” I walk out of the kitchen and to the library where I eat my breakfast with the door open, and, like clockwork, I hear Helen climb the stairs exactly fifteen minutes later.

Leaving my empty dish in the library, I pull two pins out of my hair and head to Kill’s study.

One thing living in Judge Callahan’s house taught me and my brother was how to pick a lock. It was the only way we’d get to see each other some days.

I’m bending one of the hair pins as I glance around to make sure no one is near, although at this point I almost don’t care. I take hold of the doorknob, squat down so I’m at eye level and stick the bent hairpin into it. Keeping pressure on this one, I begin to test the pins with the other. I’m out of practice, but this shouldn’t be too hard. When I was here the other night, I saw it was a simple lock.

The vacuum cleaner goes on upstairs as I work my way through the pins and, not ten minutes later, the final one clicks and I can turn the doorknob. Exhaling a sigh of relief, I straighten and push the door open, just as I hear another door open behind me.

A chill runs up my spine and I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. I feel him, like I do whenever he enters a room. He uses up too much space, hogs too much oxygen.

He takes two steps. Stops. Closes the door. I hear his keys jangle as he puts them in his pocket.

The vacuum cleaner switches off and Kill moves, footsteps approaching me. He doesn’t speak, not at first. Instead, he comes up close behind me, closes his hand over mine which is still on the doorknob. Leans his body against mine, breathes against my neck before walking me into his study, plastering my back against the door as he pushes it closed. He takes my wrists, draws my arms over my head, his eyes dark as they roam over my face.

I swallow. It’s that look in his eyes, the wild one. The one that makes me want.

“What are you looking for, sweetheart?”

“I busted your camera, you freak.”

His eyes roam my face. He grins. “Did you, now?” He presses against me. He’s hard.

I lick my lips. “Yes.”

He dips his head down, kisses my mouth and, eyes open, I kiss him back. When he draws away, I look him over. He’s still wearing what he had on yesterday.

“Where were you?”

“Thinking,” he says, kissing me again. His hands are undoing the buttons of my jeans, but he doesn’t push them off. Instead, once he’s unzipped them, he slides his hand inside and cups my sex.

I gasp.

“You’re always wet for me.”

“No.”

He draws his hand out, smears his wet fingers across my cheek, my lip. He chuckles.

“Don’t you want to know what I’ve been thinking?” he asks.

He wraps the hand that was just inside my panties through my hair, tugs my head backward so my mouth opens.

“Don’t you want to know?” he prods.

“No.”

He kisses my chin. My throat. That hollow above my collarbone. He straightens, his face suddenly harder. Too hard. I scratch at his forearm, wanting to drag him off, but he’s too strong so when I can’t turn my head, I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Look at me, Cilla.”

I shake my head as much as I can.

“You’re no coward. Look at me.”

I open my eyes, grit my teeth.

“I’ve been thinking I understand you.”

I swallow hard, suddenly panicked at his words.

“See, I recognize something inside you. I know it. I get it. You’re brave and you’re loyal, but you’re also stubborn as fuck. I scare the shit out of you yet you constantly stand up to me. I told you once I liked taking but thing is, I think you like it when I make you. You need me to make you.”

“Stop.” I try to squirm away.

“It’s the only way you can accept this. The only way you can come.”

“Is that how you justify keeping me prisoner?”