Chapter Six
Servitude and Shame
Kyle
What was that he saw gleaming in her eyes?
Terror.
Culpability resonated in his chest, or at least it should have, but in the space where his guilt might have wallowed, there was only justified satisfaction.
She was afraid, and he was glad.
Let her fear me .
His jaw clenched at the sinister, sadistic streak swelling inside him. He loved her; he’d spent the last few weeks building his bloody world around her—giving her everything he could, pleasing and gratifying her—and she’d repaid him with the utter shitshow performance he’d been forced to witness.
That’s why she was bound.
Amy had left him with no choice but to act.
He inhaled, shoving down the bitterness building inside him. Resenting her wouldn’t do anything to serve either of them, but the emotion burned in his chest, regardless.
She’d let him down with her ferocious display, but he still loved her, and he was willing to do anything for her—anything to protect her. That’s why he’d taken the drastic measures of both cuffing and binding her to his bed. He needed to ensure she was safe at all costs.
“Can I please relieve myself now?” She shifted as far as the cuffs allowed, her discomfort clearly growing.
Resisting the urge to revel in her distress, he focused on her remaining cuffed ankle, ensuring the rope he’d wound in place was secured. Both ankle restraints comprised fine, soft rope and there was ample slack available to ensure she could leave the bed, but the lines of rope only allowed her a certain length to maneuver before her wings would be clipped. He couldn’t wait to see how she’d react when she finally realized the limits of the new plan. Based on her recent outburst, he was sure his drama queen wouldn’t let him down.
Using the key to release her ankle from the metal bracelet, he moved along the bed to her left wrist. “Yes, I’ll release you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Genuine gratitude radiated from her as he tackled the final cuff.
Glancing down, he permitted their gazes to lock. She was still wearing the kinky maid’s outfit he’d bought her, the low-rising bodice and scantily-short skirt revealing her tantalizing body and reminding him of the reasons he’d wanted her in the first place.
Before he’d met the woman, before he’d so much as even spoken to her, he’d noticed her expressive blue eyes and the fine-looking body she was hiding beneath her drab clothes in the photographs on Graham’s walls. She was beautiful, and even then, in her agitated state, he couldn’t deny her allure.
That was why he’d invited her there with the job offer, why he’d wanted her to stay, even when it was clear she wasn’t qualified to run his estate, and why, ultimately, he’d fallen for her. It was also why, even though he couldn’t trust her, he wouldn’t let her leave.
She was his beauty—his to worship and look after—and whatever their disagreements, nothing would change that.
“There.” He lifted her final limb from his cuff, leaving the metal attached to his bedstead as he’d done before. “No more cuffs.”
That wasn’t strictly true since he could yank her limbs back into position and slip the metal around them with little exertion, but the point was no longer arguable. She was freed from the handcuffs for the time being.
Sitting up on the bed, she rubbed at her wrists.
“Thank you.” She feigned a smile as though he was stupid enough to allow her pretty face to lull him into any sort of false sense of security.
But he wasn’t.
Not anymore.
He loved her, but he would have his way. If Amy didn’t know that by then, she was about to get a stark reminder.
“I won’t be long, sir.” She wiggled along the bed. “I’ll just pop into the en suite.”
“I don’t think so.” Excitement simmered in his chest as his revelation neared.
“What?” She turned her head to look at him. “I don’t understand. I need to pee, and—”
“And I have made provision for you.” He signaled to the large bucket he’d left at the far side of the bed. The benefit of her emotional meltdown and the subsequent way she’d passed out had been his ability to get everything organized without her even noticing. “My ‘insurance’ ropes at your ankles won’t let you get as far as the toilet, so you’ll have to perch there.”
“What?” she repeated, her gaze traveling between him and the bucket.
“It’s clean.” Suppressing his smile, he gestured toward the vessel again. “You’ll be fine, little girl.”
“But it’s a bucket!” Her voice was caught somewhere between repulsion and outrage. “You can’t expect me to pee in that!”
“It’s that or the floor, little girl.” He arched a brow at her. “And if you mess up my expensive carpet, you’ll have hell to pay.”
“But…” Her brow crumpled, as though she couldn’t understand his words, but he knew better. Amy was a smart woman. Maybe too smart—it was her endless intrigue that had led them both down the dark corridor they found themselves in. “Why can’t I use the bathroom?”
“Because I don’t trust you.” Hadn’t he made it clear already? “So, for now, you stay where I can see you.”
“But what about…” She hesitated, apparently too embarrassed to continue.
“What about what ?” he prompted, though he suspected he knew what she was about to say.
Drawing in a breath, her gaze fell to her lap. “What if I need more than to pee?”
“If you’re good, then perhaps I’ll allow you a few minutes of privacy in that event.” He had to fight to stop himself from sniggering. “And maybe I’ll even clean the bucket afterward.”
“For God’s sake, William!” She flung her arms out in desperation, making him rue the kindness that had seen him unbind her.
“Rephrase that, little girl.” He glowered at her. “Or go back in the cuffs.”
“ Sir!” She looked close to tears again, the sight furrowing his brow.
Why was it that she was always in tears?
For weeks they’d thrived in each other’s company, reveling in the sexy dynamic and growing intimacy, yet in the last day, everything had turned to shit. In the new regime, enforced by his cuffs and scowls, there only seemed to be space for crying and shouting, not loving and trusting.
“Go now.” Motioning to the bucket, he retreated to the middle of the suite. “Before you do yourself damage. There’s a roll of toilet paper there for you.”
Sliding from the bed sheets, she shot him a look.
Gee, thanks.
He smirked, able to read her expression and pleased to see she had the sense not to vocalize it.
“Will you at least turn away, sir?” Her voice caught as she found her feet, his attention darting to watch the slack in her ropes tighten. “Please. It’s not like I can go anywhere.”
Unless she unties the knots at her ankles?
The mistrust bounced in his mind, knotting the low-lying anxiety that had stirred in his stomach ever since she’d found the damn tenancy files.
Why hadn’t he got rid of those bloody records? He’d sold the properties on Aspen Way years before and had no reason to keep the paper files anymore, let alone in an unlocked cabinet so easily accessible to his little detective.
I should have burned them.
Regret swelled until it was almost painful. He should have disposed of them, but then he should have done a lot of things…
“Fine.” He spun, facing his expensive sofas as he listened to what was going on behind him.
A part of him wanted to refuse her request, longed to watch her abject humiliation as he compelled her to relieve herself in the bucket, but a larger facet urged caution. His little girl wasn’t used to bending to his will. Sure, she listened to his orders, wriggled her cute ass, and took his cock on command, but he’d rarely really pushed her, and if he shoved too hard, too fast, she might just break.
That thought spiked pain in his solar plexus, the ache emanating out to his limbs. He really did adore Amy, and he didn’t want to break her. Still, paranoia plagued him in the silent seconds that stretched out around him.
What was she doing back there?
He certainly couldn’t hear evidence of the relief she’d spoken about.
The ropes.
His pulse picked up its pace as he envisioned her tackling the knots he’d tied at her ankles.
What if she’s getting out of the ropes?
“Little girl.” He wanted to sound sure of himself, but even to him, his voice was questioning. “What’s going on?”
“I’m trying to go!” The desperation in her reply was convincing enough. “I just can’t relax.”
“Figure it out, Amy.” Blowing out a breath, he strode toward the nearest couch. “Because if I have to help you, you won’t be any more relaxed.”
“Oh God!”
The sound of her misery tugged at what remained of his heart, urging him to peer around at her quickly. If she was ill or in genuine pain, then he’d go to her, whatever she said. The woman might be a flailing banshee—a tricky, violent version of the Amy he’d first met that day in the store—but she was still his little girl. He had to take partial responsibility for the person she’d become—the one he’d started to condition to his liking and had subsequently bound. Whatever had transpired between them, he couldn’t bear the thought of anything harmful befalling her.
A quick glance confirmed what he needed to know. Perched over the bucket on trembling legs, she was red-faced and looked anything but relaxed. The prospect of achieving her goal seemed slim.
“You said you’d look away!” Spotting him watching her, she spat the words at him.
“Watch your tone.” He couldn’t believe how easily she’d forgotten the rules. Clearly, she needed another lesson in basic respect before the day was done.
“Oh God, I can’t go!” She rose on shaky legs, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands. “Not like this.”
“Then you don’t go.”
Any ounce of sympathy he felt for her plight vanished at her snarky reaction. He was willing to help her through the transition they were experiencing, but he couldn’t stand the defeatist attitude he was seeing. Amy was better than that.
“But I have to.” Her hand dropped to her belly, patting her full bladder, her feet fidgeting on the carpet as though it was impossible for her toes to keep still. “It hurts, sir.”
“Stop making it into such an ordeal, then. I’m going to sit on the sofa and read, and you’re going to do what needs to be done.” He pointed at the bucket. “Am I making myself clear, little girl?”
“Yes.” She sniffed, her feet stilling as he retreated to the nearest couch. “I understand, sir.”
“Good.” Reaching out for the leather settee, he ran his fingertips over the cool surface as he settled onto its comfortable confines. Sitting at an angle, he could make Amy out in his peripheral vision, but picking up the book from the next seat, he didn’t make eye contact with her. “When you’re ready…”
His words hung in the air as he opened the book, his gaze scanning the lines as she hovered over the bucket again. Though his focus seared the page, the words printed there were lost to him, his attention fixed solely on what Amy was doing. He nearly cheered when the noise he wanted to hear finally reverberated from the corner, his lips twitching with triumph.
It wasn’t much in the grand scheme—one woman perching over a bucket in the far corner of his enormous room—but it was what it represented that stirred emotion in him.
She’d accepted the adjusted status quo that she was there to be tied and contained by him.
She’d succumbed to his will.
Chapter Seven
Cascading Doom
Amy
“Do you feel better?”
His question resonated from the fancy-looking sofa at the other end of the suite, but it may as well have come from Mars.
Finishing with the toilet paper as best she could, she straightened, all too conscious of the flaming embarrassment on her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, refused to wrap her head around the utter denigration of having to pee in a bucket just to appease her lover, who seemed to have temporarily lost his mind.
“Well?” Putting down the book he’d pretended to be reading, he glanced her way.
“I... I suppose so, sir.”
What did he want her to say? She certainly wasn’t going to express gratitude for the bucket. Even the time he’d stripped her in front of his so-called friends hadn’t been as degrading as that.
“You suppose so?” Slamming the book closed, he tossed it aside. “After all that?”
“It’s not exactly the most salubrious place I’ve ever…” She hesitated, unwilling to humiliate herself further by articulating what had just taken place. Frankly, the memories would probably be burned into her psyche for all time.
He chuckled as he rose and wandered closer. “You’ll survive.”
That was easy for him to say, but then she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that the man who’d found it sane to handcuff her to his bed also considered the bucket a favor.
Something had definitely shifted in Kyle’s head since he’d dragged her up there to his room, as though disclosing his murky past had flicked a switch in his head. The man standing across the room from her looked the same—wore the same dapper suits and revealed the same knowing glint in his enigmatic eyes—but there was no doubt in her mind… he wasn’t the same.
The man staring at her wasn’t the one who’d loved her, who’d inspired her to divulge her feelings and pleasured her day after day. He wasn’t someone she’d contemplated spending the rest of her life with.
She knew the difference as he beckoned her forward with his index finger. That man, the one seemingly so cold and detached from her basic needs, was somebody else—a stranger—and he frightened her.
“Are you ready to discuss what happened earlier?”
He lifted his chin as she inched closer. Each step reminded her of her newfound captivity—the ropes around her ankles tangible evidence that their trust was in tatters—yet only she was in fetters.
“Sir?”
She had no desire to talk to him. All she wanted was to rid herself of the bondage and be out of there. Glancing back at the door, she remembered that he’d failed to lock it when he’d first come back with the refreshments.
A long time ago .
She swallowed at the knowing voice in her mind. It was right.
Hours had passed since she’d witnessed that error. Hours when she’d been unconscious, and he’d cuffed her to the bed. He could easily have come and gone from the bedroom in that time and subsequently locked the door. There was no way of knowing unless she tried the handle for herself, and to do that would risk riling the animal in him.
She’d only just got him to remove the cuffs; what might he do if she actually attempted to leave the room? It didn’t bear thinking about.
“The way you behaved.” He retreated slowly to the sofa and perched on the leather seat.
The way she’d behaved?
She paused, processing the irony of his words. He’d been the one uncovered as a liar, and he’d ended up cuffing her to his bed, yet he wanted to talk about her behavior? How was that for avoiding any accountability?
“I told you about that.” She shuffled closer, conscious of the ropes stiffening behind her. She still couldn’t fathom the way he’d restrained her so that even once the cuffs had been removed, she was still bound to his bloody bed. There had been a time, not so long before, that the idea might have turned her on, but the reality was less inspiring. As it was, the chilling gesture left her feeling worthless, as if she were a possession he could chain up and put aside. “I received a lot of new information about you, and it wasn’t very positive.”
“Nor was the tantrum you threw as a result.” His gaze penetrated her, as if he hoped its intensity would blindside his words, but they didn’t.
Amy might be down, but she wasn’t out. She was up on her feet and all too aware of the manipulative game he was playing. Until he took responsibility for his own actions, she’d be damned if she’d allow him to pin the blame her way.
“Are you saying this is all my fault?” She managed to hold her voice steady, despite the anger swirling inside her.
“I’m saying it isn’t good enough.” Conveniently deflecting her question, he glowered at her.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet, but the emotion simmering inside her was far from silenced. She sensed it warring within her, the rational need to placate her jailor sparring with the desire to claw his eyes out.
She loved him, even though, standing there, she wished she didn’t, but that love didn’t exist in isolation. It was affected by the way he behaved, the things he said, and how he treated her, and the way Kyle was eroding it, there wouldn’t be much left to salvage.
“It isn’t good enough.” Parting her legs, her hands rose to her hips. “It’s not even close.”
She might be the one in the slutty outfit, the unkempt woman in the ropes, but she hadn’t fought her way out of hell after Graham to end up his fucking captive. The initial chapters of her life had been a demoralizing struggle, but life with Kyle had shown her there was hope for better. Whatever his cunning plan with the ropes was, that wasn’t how her story was ending.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He sniped, having clearly noticed the shift in her.
“I mean, I won’t accept this, sir .” She threw emphasis on the final word, giving him what he wanted but with an edge of sass.
“ You won’t accept this?” He stifled laughter. “And what makes you think that you have a choice?”
“Because that’s what you taught me, sir.” She was emboldened, even as he stood up and closed the distance between them. Shorter and weaker than him, she might be, but she wasn’t a green schoolgirl who didn’t understand how things worked. Tying women to beds without their explicit consent was not okay. “You’ve shown that I always have a choice.”
His knitting brows suggested that was not how he’d expected her to reply. It was good to know, in a world of his creation, that she still had the power to surprise him.
She still had power.
“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “We’re discussing your behavior, little girl.”
“My behavior has been normal.” How dare he try to rewrite the narrative? “Discovering the man I loved hadn’t told me about our past connections was inevitably going to upset me, and then, being hauled up the stairs without so much as a conversation?” She shook her head, barely believing what she’d been through. “It’s no wonder I lost my shit.”
“You’re standing there defending the way you acted?” Indignation radiated from him.
“I’m explaining.”
“The way you swore and shouted.” His gaze narrowed. “The way you spoke to me…”
“I didn’t intend to offend you.” She stood her ground, managing to steady her voice as she responded. “But that doesn’t mean I deserved any of this.” She kicked out with her right ankle, tugging at the rope attached to it. “You’re treating me like an animal, sir… binding me and making me pee in a bucket!”
She tried not to dwell on that final point.
“I’m giving you what you deserve.” His jaw clenched as he stepped closer, invading her personal space.
“What I deserve is respect.” She gulped at his proximity, an unhelpful and reflexive reaction to his sheer physicality. When they were separated in different parts of the room, she managed to forget just how bloody enormous he was, but having him there right in front of her left nothing to the imagination. Despite his age, Kyle was a huge, strapping man. It was why he’d been able to hoist her over his shoulder with such apparent ease. “And I deserved honesty, Mr. Kyle. You should have told me about Aspen Way.”
“Maybe.” He forced the word out between gritted teeth. “But it’s too late now.”
“It’s not too late to start being honest.” She reached a hand toward him, splaying her fingers between his chest hair. The shirt he’d worn earlier still hung on his muscular shoulders, but he must have unfastened the buttons while she slept. She took advantage of that, burying her digits into the soft hair as she spoke. “I thought we loved each other?”
“We do.” His breath caught, his gaze flitting to her hand. “You know I love you.”
“Do I?” There hadn’t been much love in the last few hours.
“Yes.” His voice was emphatic. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
“And this?” She gestured to her ankles. “Are those ropes a demonstration of your love, sir?”
“In a way.” His tone was almost wistful as his gaze locked with hers. “I can’t lose you, Amy. I won’t let that happen.”
“So, you tie me up?” She appreciated the irony of her answer. She’d spent the last few weeks surrendering to his every whim to tie her and loved every moment. But she didn’t love what was happening anymore.
“You never complained before.” His wry tone exemplified the reply she’d anticipated.
“But I am now, sir.” Her tone was imploring. “Why doesn’t that mean anything to you?” He obviously didn’t love her as much as he purported if he wasn’t prepared to at least see her point of view on something so fundamental as her personal liberty.
“It does mean something.” He turned away as though she’d slapped him. “But it doesn’t change the situation, little girl.”
“You mean we don’t trust each other.”
There, she’d said it. It was what they were both thinking, after all.
A crease appeared in his brow. “I can’t trust you while you want to flee.”
There he was, immediately directing all culpability back in her direction.
“And what about my trust?” She truly wanted to help him see sense, but he wasn’t making it simple. Nothing with Kyle was ever easy, though—not unless it involved him paying for something she’d invariably feel uncomfortable about. “What are you going to do about that?”
“I’m going to do what we both want me to.” He spun, grabbing her wrist before she could tug away.
“What?” Alarm ratcheted inside her from one to ten in only a few seconds. Her head was spinning as he yanked her toward him, but before she could find her footing, he’d walked back to the nearest sofa, dragging her with him until the ropes at her feet were taut.
“I will not cave in.”
His voice was like thunder, and with one hard shove, he sent her tumbling down over his lap. She went with a cry, the ropes at her ankles insisting her feet rise to accommodate their confines.
“What the hell?” Floundering, she fought against the dizzying disorientation.
One moment, she’d been hoping she was making some headway with Kyle, then the next, she was head first over his thighs again. Of course, she knew what that meant—the bastard thought he had the liberty to spank her when they hadn’t even finished talking. A faux punishment was the furthest thing from her mind.
“Quiet.” One of his vast palms pinned her down in the small of her back while the other roamed beneath the pathetic skirt and squeezed her otherwise exposed cheeks. “You know what you’re here for.”
“Wait!” She tried to kick her legs and attempt to get away, but the blasted ropes that had hoisted her feet into the air meant she couldn’t even reach the plush carpet.
“Wrong.” His hand departed her flesh, smacking down on her upturned backside before she could catch her breath. “It’s too late.”