Chapter 6 #2
Okay, so this wasn’t a stranger. This had to be a dominant. He was being too polite to be some sort of kidnapping murderer.
“Cold tea, or hot tea?”
He chuckled. “Tea is tea. Iced tea is something entirely different and not available at this point in your captivity, although I might send out for some if you’re a very good girl.”
“Coffee would be great.” Hopefully it would be hot enough to use as a weapon. Even a mug would be decent.
He stood and went to the counter directly behind me, not dropping his hold on the leash. He poured coffee and added cream and sugar without asking me.
“How do you know how I take it?”
“I listened to you order at the café.” He winked at me.
“Nice to know you care,” I said sourly, not liking the gleam in his eye or the way my stomach somersaulted when he winked. He wasn’t flirting, he was a monster. This was all just part of keeping me off balance.
“I wouldn’t want it said that I don’t take good care of my property.”
He set the mug down in front of me, and I realized it was in a takeout cup instead of an actual mug. Damn. Also, not that hot.
I nibbled at my bacon and devoured two pieces of toast, before helping myself to an apple from a wicker bowl on the table.
Wasn’t there anything to use as a weapon in this house?
Even a slow, covert scan of the kitchen told me no convenient butcher knives were to be had.
Not even a steak knife. The kitchen smelled like bacon, but there was no evidence of the frying pan he’d used.
Anyway, I needed to know for sure what the situation was before I brained him with a frying pan.
Slowly, I ate a third piece of toast that I had slathered with strawberry jam, while sipping at my coffee, stalling for time.
It felt like he was biding his time until his next planned attack.
Now that I wasn’t wolfing down my food, every swallow brought with it an awareness of the collar around my neck and the fact that I couldn’t take it off myself.
The lock made me claustrophobic. The fact that he was still holding the other end of the leash had kept my nipples hard through the whole meal even though I’d tried to forget.
“Done?” he asked with some amusement.
“What? I was hungry.”
“You might have been hungry in the beginning, but now you’re just stalling.” He tugged me to my feet using his grip on the leash. If I walked a dog, I would think twice before yanking its leash.
“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, as though my wishes on the subject made any difference to him. He led me through the house, and I enjoyed the feel of the smooth, room temperature wood under my feet. My soles and bones still ached with cold.
He opened a door, and I found myself unexpectedly looking at a pretty patio and huge rolling lawn.
A wooden fence ran the perimeter of the property, but when I looked from one side to the other, I realized there were no other houses nearby.
Up a small slope to my front, horses grazed in the distance.
There was no one to signal to for help. I couldn’t see over the side fences, but there was nothing other than trees to my left and right.
“You like your privacy.” The wind was still strong, and I was a bit chilly, considering I was naked.
“You should be happy there’s privacy. I’m sure if I lived in some sort of gated community the neighbors would either be complaining to the home-owner’s association or taking pictures of you right about now.”
“If you had neighbors, I could scream for help.”
“Good thing I’m antisocial.” His lips curled in a cruel smile. “That would be even more tedious than having to make small talk about the weather or how best to cook steak. Where would I even bury all the bodies?”
He had said it glibly, but what if it was him, his true nature? My obsession with CNC made me wonder how far I would go. Mr. Scott, or whatever his name truly was, seemed capable of terrible things.
“What are we doing outside?” I hugged myself, shivering.
“My new pet is dirty. I wouldn’t want to let her up on the furniture without scrubbing her down a bit.”
“If I’m dirty, it’s because of what you did to me last night.”
“You mean what you signed up for?”
“I didn’t sign up for anything with you.” I shifted my arms higher to cover my breasts, trying to pretend it was because I was annoyed rather than shy. He was…looking. Appreciating—but not the way a man appreciated a woman he saw at a bar. More like a man admiring something he owned.
“And yet, you let me do anything I wanted last night.”
“Like you gave me a choice?”
“You didn’t put up much of a fight. I may have a bruise, but I doubt it.”
“I’m not good at self-defense. That doesn’t give you permission to do what you did.”
“Your unauthorized orgasm leads me to believe you don’t have anything to complain about.”
A bottle of shampoo and another of body wash stood on one of the fancy wicker-and-glass patio tables.
“What are you doing?” I asked again. “You’re not going to make me shower in your backyard, are you?”
“I’m not going to make you do anything except stand still.
” There was something in his hand, but my brain didn’t catch up before he pulled the trigger, and I was doused with freezing water.
I shrieked, and tried to block, but he just followed me, hosing me down until I was soaked and shaking with the cold.
I couldn’t go far with the leash still in his hand.
“Come here,” he said, sounding impatient. “Such a little princess. It’s just water, and you’re not made of sugar.”
“It’s freezing! Why can’t I use your shower?”
“Showers are for people. A man washes his toys outside. Just be glad I didn’t decide to do this in the driveway instead.
I don’t get a lot of traffic out here, but there’s a chance someone might see you from the main road.
Not that you have anything to be ashamed of, even covered in goose bumps and looking like a drowned rat. ”
He reeled me closer, and I fought the leash, clutched it, but I was no match for his strength.
The chain hurt me when it slid across my palm.
The grass was slippery under my feet, and slowly he won the battle.
He soaped me up with impersonal hands, rinsed me, then shampooed my hair and rinsed that, too.
I was angry at the rough treatment—insulted and frozen stiff—and yet turned on as his hand traveled over me as he sluiced me with clean water.
His hand was warmer than my skin, but when he parted my pussy and forced one of his big, cold fingers inside me, I mewled with distress.
I curled forward and plucked at his wrist. He growled.
“Hand off me. Stand up.” His finger shoved painfully high and hard until I obeyed.
God, the cold against my heated core, and the impersonal way he was handling me had no business turning me on the way it did, but I was helpless to stop myself from feeling what I did.
All of my screeching and protests came to nothing. He did exactly what he wanted. When he was satisfied, I was dripping and clean, and my teeth chattered as I shook from head to toe.
He turned off the water but kept hold of the nozzle and the leash.
His free hand roved over my body, raising extra goose bumps between the ones I already had.
His hand drifted lower again, and I tried to jerk back, but his grip on the leash was sure, even though it was as wet as I was and had to be slippery.
“I have to make sure I rinsed you thoroughly enough.” He aimed a spray of water directly at my clit.
“Please, no more. Please stop.”
The water shut off again, but his frigid hand was still checking, his fingers probing and holding my pussy lips wider.
“We need to be thorough,” he murmured.
“Please…”
Despite how cold I was, my core was hot, and the dichotomy as he moved his finger inside me was enough to make me cry out and clutch his arm. Was I trying to push him away, or keep him close? Even I couldn’t tell.
The heel of his hand rubbed my clit as he did a thorough job of ‘checking me for more soap,’ and soon I shamed myself by humping his hand like a bitch in heat. When he worked a second frigid finger inside me, stretching me, I moaned with shameful pleasure.
Just when I thought maybe he’d let me come, he stopped and withdrew his hand.
No…no, no, no.
“Open your mouth.”
Whining, I complied, only to have him jam his fingers halfway down my throat. I gagged twice, but he didn’t pull back or let go of his close grip on my leash, forcing me to adjust.
“Clean up the mess you made.”
Desperate to breathe, I closed my lips over his fingers and did as he told me, tasting myself faintly even over the chlorinated water. I was too needy to think straight.
He stepped back, and I had to force my body not to follow him. It knew what it wanted even though I was disgusted with myself.
The sun was out, but it was weak this early in the morning. At least it tempered the chill wind.
He walked me to the patio furniture and bent me over the back of one of the padded wicker sofas. I put my hands out to catch myself on the seat. By the time he was satisfied with how he’d positioned me, my hips were resting on the seat back, and my toes were barely brushing the patio stones.
“Stay.” He secured my leash to something under the couch then tied my ankles to what must have been the legs. My legs were splayed wide, and with my ass in the air the way it was, I felt vulnerable, even though my hands were free. I wriggled, but I was tightly secured.
“Very pretty,” he murmured. I heard the click-whirr of an old-fashioned camera.
“What are you doing?”
“Why do you keep asking? It’s not like you can stop me,” he replied. “You like not having a choice, remember? You like being treated like a thing—my property.”
“I never said that! You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“I’m paraphrasing, but the sentiment was there when you were talking to Charity about this last night at the coffee shop. Besides, words are hardly the worst thing I’ve put in your mouth in the past few hours.”