Chapter Seventeen—Sophia
I crack open the door just an inch and peer up and down the corridor. It’s empty—finally. Now I can try and make a break for it and get out of this bullshit nightmare before it gets any crazier than it already has.
Three days. Three days I’ve been locked up in this house, only let out on a strict schedule based around my classes and my shifts at the restaurant. Nothing social, nothing fun, nothing that he doesn’t explicitly allow.
I can’t believe I agreed to this. But then, what choice did I have? I don’t know how else I’m meant to handle this nightmare. He drove me out here, practically kidnapped me from work, and made it damn clear that he wasn’t going to let me walk out of there until he got what he wanted.
And this is what I get. I started fucking around in the business of a man who is involved in something so dark. I have only myself to blame. When he hinted at the stuff he and his family did, I should have just backed the fuck off and left it there, and that would have been the end of it. I could have unstuck myself from his life, walked away, vanished, and made sure he never had reason to pay attention to me again. But no, I had to stick by my stupid fucking morals and try to find out more. Now look at the mess I’ve gotten into.
This mansion, of course, is a million times better appointed than anywhere I’ve lived in my life. The room I’m staying in is enormous, with views of the sprawling garden beyond. It would have been beautiful if I wasn’t trapped here. The double bed that sits next to the window catches the light first thing in the morning, and when I come to, for a moment, I have to remind myself that I’m not in some fancy hotel but rather being held prisoner by a man who wants me to prove myself to him.
Nobody has even noticed there’s anything wrong. A lot of the students at the university live off campus, and more than a few of them have drivers who whisk them from place to place. I don’t look out of place at all, just another one of the rich kids. But, of course, none of them know the truth.
Or maybe they do. With the Silencio society shit, perhaps Blake has gotten them to keep an eye out for me and make sure I’m not sneaking around where I shouldn’t be. Whatever. I’m not going to let it keep happening, not for another second. I’m done.
I’ve been tracking the comings and goings of the staff every day, taking notes in one of my history textbooks of the timing so I can be certain when the place is going to be clear. It feels as though there is always someone stalking around out there, but I have about a ten-minute window to make a break for it before someone comes up to bring me lunch.
And I have to move now. Now. I push open the door and draw in a deep, ragged breath, stepping out into the corridor. I hold my breath, listening for any noise, for someone who’s going to jump out and stop me, but there’s nothing.
With my shoes in my hand, I pad along the polished wooden floorboards, praying I don’t make one creak. There are two sets of stairs that lead outside—the main one that heads down to the entrance of the house with the porter and the other for staff that drops down into the garden below. That’s the one I’m aiming for.
I hesitate at the top of the stairs, taking a moment to make sure I’m not going to walk right out in front of someone, but the place seems silent right now. Is Blake here? I don’t know. I’ve hardly seen him. I don’t even know if I want to or not. Some part of me craves him, craves his closeness, craves his touch, and another part of me is terrified of what he will do if he gets his hands on me again.
And that’s the part I know I should be listening to.
I dart down the first three steps, my feet digging into the plush carpet laid out on top of it. My stomach twists into knots as I hurry down the rest of the stairs, moving as quickly as I can, but it doesn’t feel fast enough, like I’m in a dream, my limbs leaden.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and glance along the corridor to the garden outside. Just one dash and I’ll have made it out of there. I’ll be gone. Nobody will be able to stop me. I just need to run to the back gate, throw my leg over the back wall, and make it as far from here as I can. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to avoid Blake once I get back to university, but I can figure out how to handle him when I’m out.
But there’s just one thing in the way of that—Blake’s office. The door is pulled shut, but there’s no guarantee he’s not in it. If he is and he catches me... fuck, I don’t know what he’ll do. He’s made it very fucking clear how little time he has for me, after everything that’s happened, and I can’t blame him. One wrong move, and he might...
He might kill me.
Those words rush into my mind, impossible to ignore or deny. I push them aside. I have to keep moving. I have to.
I pick my way along the corridor, every touch of my sole against the ground sending a shock of fear through my system. It all feels like too much, every step deafening, every noise shuddering through me. I pause outside of the office, holding my breath, trying to make out sounds of him from within. But there’s nothing. Thank God.
I plant a hand on the door and push it, and to my horror, it makes a loud scraping noise on the ground. I spring back from it like it’s on fire and turn to bolt back to the stairs before someone comes to see what the noise is, but it’s too late.
The door to Blake’s office opens.
My feet feel as though they’re frozen to the spot. I don’t dare turn around to face him. I can practically feel the rage coming off of him already, just like back in the car when he drove me here. I hear his voice before I see him, low and threatening.
"Where are you going, Sophia?"
I finally turn to look him in the eye. He’s leaning in the doorway to his office, looking me up and down with what seems to be amusement. Is this the precursor to his blowup? What’s he going to do with me?
There’s no point lying to him. I clench my jaw.
"I was trying to get the fuck out of here," I shoot back at him sharply. "Because you can’t keep me under lock and key the way you have been."
He chuckles slightly.
"You sure about that?" he replies, taking a step toward me. "Even if you get out that back door without setting off any alarms, you’re going to have to get past the guards, the porters, the CCTV..." He shakes his head. "I don’t think you’d make it very far."
He’s utterly in control here, and he knows it. His voice drips with a low, dangerous threat. It should terrify me, but it sparks something else instead.
Something I know I sure as hell shouldn’t be letting cross my mind right now.
I cross my arms over my chest, staring at me, narrowing my eyes.
"You’re not going to punish me?"
He lets out a low chuckle. "I wasn’t planning to. Why? Do you want me to?"
His words hang there between us, the implication obvious, the intensity of his words sending a shiver down my spine. I bite down on my bottom lip.
"I... I don’t know," I confess finally. I can feel a heat rising in my cheeks, a warmth flooding through my whole system at the thought of him punishing me.
"Why don’t you know?"
"It depends... it depends on what kind of punishment you were planning," I reply.
The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile, his eyes flashing with possibilities. "Why don’t you step into my office? And I’ll show you."
Though he phrases it as a question, I know this isn’t an offer. It's an order. My hands are shaking. I squeeze them into fists to try and control myself, then nod.
He pushes the door open for me and allows me to step inside. I have to push past him as he goes, the scent of his aftershave filling my senses for a moment. It reminds me, all too clearly, of the night we were together, hooking up outside the restaurant, and I can’t deny how much I’m craving that now.
I hear the door click shut, and he rounds on me. He’s just a few inches from me. He can do anything he wants to me if it takes his fancy. Like he told me, nobody here would stop him, no matter what he wanted to do with me. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. But at the same time...
At the same time, it’s like I’ve been released from all this fear and tension that has consumed me for so long. I have no choice in the matter, no choice but to give in to whatever he wants to do to me, and that thrills me.
He backs me toward the desk, his hands on either side of me. The wood creaks beneath his touch, like everything in the room is bowing to him. His lips are so close to me, I can feel his breath, the heat of it. I see the flash of his teeth in the dim light. My body is responding to him in ways I can’t control, and he knows it.
He moves his hand down between my legs, pulling aside the skirt and cupping his hand around me. I groan.
"You know how difficult it’s been controlling myself, knowing you’re just upstairs this whole time?" he remarks. "You should be glad I haven’t come into your room to interrupt your studies."
"Is that what you brought me here for?" I whisper. I don’t even know what I want the answer to be. He shakes his head.
"No, just a pleasant coincidence," he murmurs. "I was waiting for you to do something wrong, something I could discipline you for."
"This is how you get off?" I shoot back, antagonizing him, though I know it’s a stupid idea. "You punish girls like this?"
"I don’t do a damn thing they don’t want me to," he replies. I feel a stab of jealousy at the thought of him doing this with other women, though I push that down sharply.
"But don’t worry, I’m not thinking about any of them right now," he continues, his tongue tracing out along his bottom lip. "I’m just thinking about you."
As he slips his fingers into my panties, he sinks his mouth against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I can’t hold back the helpless moan of pleasure, even though I know how much danger I’m in. But that danger, that fear, melds with something else deep inside of me to create an arousal I’ve never felt before in my life.
He pushes a knee between my legs and parts my thighs with ease and pulls me against him so I’m grinding against his thigh. I move on instinct, sliding against him as his hands fall to my waist, letting me grind myself into a frenzy.
"Look at how horny you are for me already, Sophia," he murmurs. I moan again, the sound of my name on his lips enough to send another shock wave of pleasure through my body.
"I love all those little noises you make," he chuckles, brushing his lips against mine, catching my bottom lip between his teeth and tugging slightly. "You’re so hot, Sophia. So fucking hot..."
I move a little harder against his thigh, unable to get the necessary friction through my panties and against his jeans to relieve my tension. He seems to be enjoying the state I’m getting myself into. Is this his way of punishing me? Pushing me to this point of no return and then denying me what I crave most?
He hitches me off the ground and onto the table and moves between my legs. Sliding his hand down to his jeans, he unzips his pants and takes himself into his hand, guiding his cock toward the outside of my panties. I groan through gritted teeth as he teases me, clearly enjoying how I can’t deny him, how obvious it is that I want him, my wetness already leaking through.
"You want me to fuck you?" he asks, and I nod. I can’t speak. I can’t think.
"Use your words," he orders me. Fuck! I don’t know how to put it into words. I feel like my body has taken control, my sheer, primal desires demanding my attention more than my mind ever could. I swallow hard as he pulls my panties aside, hovering his cock just an inch or two from my entrance. I can practically feel the warmth coursing off of him. I shift my hips forward, trying to take him inside of me, but he pulls back.
"You have to tell me, Sophia," he reminds me firmly. "You have to tell me how much you want me."
"I want..." I pant out, then my words fail me, my head sinking back as I catch my breath. "I want you to fuck me."
Finally, he gives me what I’ve been waiting for. Sliding his cock against my slit, he pushes inside of me in one swift motion, filling me up to the hilt with his length. I wrap my arms around him, raking my nails down his back, holding on to him for dear life as the shockwaves of pleasure shudder through my system.
"Oh, oh," I moan against his ear, and he slides his hand to my hips and pulls me to the very edge of the desk so he can slam all the way inside of me. I cry out, not caring if all the staff in this place hear us. I don’t even know what they will think of me if they do. I’m his prisoner, fucking him right here in his office, begging for him.
But, as he takes me, it’s hard to give much of a damn. I find myself rocking back against him, grinding back into him to take as much of his length as I can fit. The sensations are so intense, I can already feel the orgasm rising up inside of me. All the tension, all the emotion of the last few days, it’s boiling over inside of me as he takes me. His head presses into my neck, his tongue grazing hungrily along my throat like he could tear it out at a moment’s notice if he wanted to.
And he probably could. A thrill of fear courses through me, and I turn my head so I can kiss him properly, grabbing his face in my hands, raking my nails along the stubble on his chin and feeling the sharpness of his jaw beneath my fingertips. I hear a deep growl escape from his lips, and knowing how much this is getting him off, that’s all it takes to push me over the edge and into my own release.
He kisses me as I come, like he’s trying to soak up every moment of this release, like my pleasure is pouring into him. It shudders through my body, starting between my legs and blooming out to consume my whole system, even more intense than the last one he gave me.
Blake reaches his own release just a few moments later, buried up to the hilt. He stirs his cock within me, holding himself in deep as he fills me with his seed. It’s so intense, I can hardly think straight, clawing at his back, clinging to him for dear life—holding on to him like he’s the only thing that matters, like he’s the only thing that can matter.
He brushes his lips along my neck and grazes them over mine once more. I’m so sensitive that I feel like my whole body is going to burst from this simple action. He seems to sense how much I’m feeling right now and slowly pulls back, letting me come back down to earth.
I press my forehead to his. I don’t know whether this man loves me or hates me. I can’t tell whether making me come like this is part of the game or if it comes from a place of real, genuine desire. With everything that’s happened, everything that has changed between us, I don’t even know where I stand anymore.
But I know that being this close to him feels right. And I know I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world at this moment.
"Join me for a drink this evening," he murmurs as he presses his finger underneath my jaw and tilts my face up, making me look into his eyes. "Out in the garden."
I know it’s not so much a suggestion as an order. But then, it’s not as though I have anywhere else to go. I nod, unable to do anything other than give in to him—whether I like it or not.