Captive in the Dark(31)

I pulled away from him, instantly kneeling at his feet, hoping he would take pity on me and grant my request. He reached for his belt buckle and my heart kicked into overdrive. I shook my head furiously as I reached for his hands to hold them firmly in mine. “Please don’t hit me,” I said in a hoarse whisper. I wiped my face as tears fell. “I’m sorry Master. Please don’t hit me.” He made a sound not unlike a laugh, but closer to an annoyed grunt and slapped my hands away. “Stand up,” he said in a calm voice, but I only clung to his leg and wept. He sighed heavily, just before he jerked his shirt out from his pants roughly, making quick work of the buttons. I don’t know what frightened me more, the thought of him beating me again or his undressing. He pulled me up by my hair as a sea of dread washed over me. “Take off my shirt.” I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the moment piece by piece. I think I was stunned. His height brought me to eye level with his smooth, sun kissed chest. His breathing, like mine, had picked up. Perhaps it had been a mistake to tell him I felt better. Perhaps it had been the only thing keeping him at bay the last few days. Unable to do anything but comply, I rested my hands on his shoulders, gently pulling the fabric back until it slid off of him. It fell to the floor.

He took my face in his hands, wiping the tears from my face. “You still think having some scrap of fabric between us will protect you from me?” I stared at him, imploring him with my eyes. “Pick up the shirt,” he said. I knelt down slowly, still looking up at him as he held my face.

I picked up the shirt with my fingertips. “Put it on.” He gave me a huge smile as I put on his shirt. It hung down to my knee, the sleeves hung just a little bit above that. “We’ll see,” he whispered against my ear. I shivered.

While he turned to leave the room, to get another shirt I assumed, I let relief at not being Captive in the Dark CJ Roberts punished wash over me. I set about buttoning the shirt he’d given me, surprised to acknowledge the way his smell made my stomach flutter. His shirt, his scent, surrounded me. It was the first time since I’d arrived that his presence, pressed against me, brought me comfort. I indulged by raising both cuffs to my nose and inhaling deeply. It wasn’t a hug, but it was comfort just the same. I needed to get the hell out of here before I lost my mind.

He returned sooner than I expected and without his shirt. My eyes were unable to look away from all of his lean, well-muscled flesh, his tapered waist, the small trail of hair leading from his belly button to beyond the waistband of his tailored pants. He set the wheeled cart and chair he’d brought with him near the door. My face crumpled, memories of that horrible night setting my entire body on edge. I had no desire to reenact any of the events that transpired that evening.

But I said nothing and silently obeyed as he turned me around, locking my wrists together behind my back. This time he’d made sure I couldn’t wrestle food away from him, not that I had any desire to. I wasn’t very hungry actually, just sad.

It was difficult to pretend I was hungry while still preoccupied by our earlier conversation.

He fed me breakfast as I knelt on the floor in front of him, my wrists locked behind my back. He smiled a lot, but didn’t he always. He was very cool, premeditated. I never doubted that everything he did served some darker purpose, right down to that smile. I thought back to when he said he didn’t have a lot of time to teach me things. What was I supposed to be learning?

When were we going to start? Did he ever plan to let me go? Was I even going to live through this? He was a handsome man, no one could deny that, so why? Why take women when he could obviously have them willingly? This was all very





Kiss the Girls. I turned my head when he tried to feed me more eggs.

“Not hungry?”

I shook my head. “No Master.”

“Fine. I’ll finish it for you.”

I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to ask him important questions I knew he wouldn’t answer.

Each question crouched on the tip of my tongue, trying to burst out of my mouth. I licked my lips, getting ready to ask, when he spoke.

“Lie down.” My eyebrows knit together. “What is so difficult to understand? Lie down.” He put his hand on my left shoulder as he lowered me to the ground by the chain he’d attached to my collar.

I was slightly uncomfortable in this position. My bound hands put pressure on my tailbone and the soles of my feet touched my buttocks. I struggled a little, but managed to pull my legs out from under me to close them.