Her Beast_A Dark Romance Page 3

  “No, you most certainly are not,” he agreed as he ran a finger down my jaw. “But you will kneel and you will give me that blanket.”

  “Never,” I barked.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said, and in a flash, he had my wrists trapped in one, big hand and he was dragging me toward the bed.

  I dug in my heels, but I was no match for his strength, and he pulled me with him easily. Once there, he untucked a pair of shackles that had been concealed between the mattress and the box spring and hooked them on my wrists.

  I tugged, but the shackles were attached to somewhere in the bed. I was trapped, hunched over at the side of the bed. I couldn’t even stand upright. The blanket had bunched around my waist as he’d dragged me, and he yanked it off, leaving me completely exposed, with no way of covering myself.

  I cried and screamed and tugged against the restraints, but it was no use.

  “You may kneel, and I will punish you for your disobedience with my hand. Or you can refuse, and I will use my belt.”

  That’s why he’d trapped me like this, with more than enough slack to go down on my knees, but not enough to stand up, keeping me in a perfect position to…to punish me.

  I screamed louder, hurting my own ears and making my headache more. I twisted and turned in a futile effort to get away while he stood there beside me, just out of reach so I couldn’t even lash out at him. I saw his hands move to his waist, unbuckling the strap of leather…

  “Please let me go,” I pleaded in the same futile effort. He wasn’t going to let me go—maybe ever.

  He shook his head and then moved behind me, and I knew I had about three seconds left to make a choice. I couldn’t stop this from happening, and the belt was going to hurt a lot more than his hand. But still, I couldn’t force my legs to comply. They would not obey, no matter the consequences. Maybe it was still too unreal. Perhaps I couldn’t believe he would actually do it, that he could actually spank a complete stranger with his belt.

  But then I felt his hands on me, grazing over my backside. My attention had been diverted to escape, first from the room and then from his belt, but now I became painfully aware of my state of undress. I was completely naked, bent over more than enough for him to see every part of me. No one had seen me there, and I didn’t want him there now, looking at me, touching me.

  Without warning, his hand left my flesh and I felt the sting of his belt, like a lash of fire across my cheeks. I cried out, gripping the bottom of the mattress when my knees threatened to buckle.

  Another lash of fire crisscrossed the first. I screamed so loud my throat started to ache.

  Another, and then another, and I couldn’t stop my knees from giving out. I sobbed in between screams. He had what he wanted—I was kneeling before him now.

  But the belt came down again, lower, across the backs of my thighs. “Stop! What the hell do you want from me?”

  He had what he wanted. Why wouldn’t he stop?

  The belt struck me again, across my cheeks, on top of a previous strike and blazing ten times hotter.

  “You did not obey, Pet. Your knees gave out on you,” he said when he stopped, but then he spanked me again, and the fire made my whole body jerk against the bed. And then again.

  “Are you ready to obey?”

  “Yes,” I sobbed pathetically as a steady stream of tears dripped down onto my naked breasts.

  He dropped the belt on the bed and bent down to unshackle me. He didn’t seem the least bit worried that I’d grab for his belt and give him a taste of his own medicine. But of course he wasn’t worried—he was infinitely stronger than me. The sick freak could have easily pushed me down on my knees if he’d wanted to, but he’d wanted to hurt me and humiliate me. And if I lunged for that belt, I had no doubt he’d do it again.

  “Now, turn around and face me. And kneel.”

  I hated him. He was sick and twisted and evil. And somehow I would make him pay for this. For now, though, I couldn’t take one more lash across my flaming backside, so I scooted around on my knees and sat back, almost on my heels, when I faced him. Keeping my thigh muscles squeezed tight, I was able to keep myself elevated just enough to stop my heels from digging into the fresh welts that had no doubt risen across my skin.

  “Very good, Pet. Next time, don’t make it so difficult for yourself. It will be much easier for you here if you understand that obedience is mandatory.”

  I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to tell him where he could shove his obedience, but I wasn’t stupid enough to do it. Or maybe I just wasn’t brave enough. I’d never had to be brave, not like this. And I wasn’t feeling it in overwhelming abundance right now. So instead, I glared at the floor, trying to ignore the red-hot lashes and the eyes I could feel grazing over every inch of me.

  “Open your legs and rest your hands flat on your thighs,” he commanded.

  Oh god, why was this happening to me? I knew the consequences all too well now if I didn’t obey, but I wasn’t just some whore who could spread her legs on demand.

  I tried, while every fiber of my body resisted. Eventually, the will to avoid his belt won out over a lifetime of modesty, and I did what I was told. I obeyed. And I cursed myself for being so weak all the while.

  And I sobbed as he looked me over. His expression was neutral, controlled, but I could see the heat blazing in his eyes. It was strange. It was the kind of heated gaze I’d tried to avoid all my life but forced to endure it now, I could analyze it—probably because I couldn’t just sit there. I needed to think about something. And not about why he was doing this, or what he was going to do to me next.

  So, where did it come from?—that heat? Was he turned on by me?—by something particular about my body? Or would he be just as aroused by any woman, naked and forced to her knees in front of him? And did that same rationale apply to other men, too? So long as a woman played into his fetish, was she interchangeable?

  And how did it make me feel? If I could separate myself from my situation, and pretend he was just an ordinary man—an extremely attractive, ordinary man—how would I feel about him looking at me that way?

  I didn’t like my answer.

  “You have a very beautiful body, Pet.” He was looking at me expectantly as if he was waiting for me to thank him for the compliment. He really was insane.

  He let out a sigh as if he was disappointed, but he seemed to dismiss it. “I’ll tend to your welts now. Climb up on the bed and lay down on your stomach.”

  “My…my backside is fine,” I lied, but I’d rather live with the sting for the rest of my life than submit to whatever ‘tending’ he had in mind.

  He eyed me for a moment, maybe debating whether my words constituted disobedience. But I had been careful in my phrasing. I didn’t tell him ‘no’, only that it was unnecessary. Apparently, this coward was a quick learner.

  “Suit yourself,” he said then, but he proceeded to come even closer. He stopped right in front of me and reached out to stroke his fingers through my hair.

  I wanted to pull away, but I held still. There were worse things he could be touching. If I was going to fight him, I was going to save my strength for that. And I knew ‘that’ was coming. If not now, then soon. I choked back a sob, knowing that in the end, no matter how much I fought him, he would take what he wanted. And whatever he couldn’t take, he would just hurt me until I handed it over to him. All it had taken was a few lashes with his belt and I’d jumped to obey. How much more would he take before he was done with me?

  An icy chill shivered down my spine at the thought because the answer was clear and far more terrifying than I could have imagined not so long ago. He wanted everything. He wasn’t content to rape me and then leave me alone. If that was what he’d wanted, he would have gotten it over with by now. Forcing me to submit, to obey him…he didn’t just want my body. He wanted my soul.

  It was too bad for him there wasn’t much of one left for him to take. But he didn’t care—whole or broken, he’d take it a
ll.

  “When I return, I expect you to greet me in this position. Always. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I said, a little too eagerly. But if he was going to return, that also meant he was going to leave. I might still be trapped here, but at least I would be alone.

  He chuckled, obviously not missing the eagerness in my tone. But he caressed my cheek once more, and then he was leaving. Across the room, at the door, and then he was gone.

  When I heard the scrape of the lock, I breathed a sigh of relief and sprang to my feet. He couldn’t damn well make me kneel if he wasn’t here, could he? And I wrapped the blanket back around my body, pulling so tight when I tucked the edge between my breasts that it felt like an old-fashioned corset, cinching my breasts together. I didn’t care. It felt like armor, and I was glad to have it back on. Exactly how long I’d have it on before he made me take it off again, I didn’t know. But I intended to have a better plan than to cry and obey him figured out before he returned.

  3

  Derek

  “So, how is our lovely, new slave?” Marcos queried as he sat back in the wing-backed leather chair, with one of his more recent acquisitions kneeling at his feet. The girl was plain, certainly nothing like the girl I’d left not long ago in the training room. But this one had submitted quickly and easily under Marcos’ guidance, and that was the way he liked it.

  And that’s the way I usually liked it too, at least as far as work was concerned. Usually. It was easy—breaking something that was so weakly held together it crumbled with the slightest touch. Easy. And boring. Of course, something about it always appealed to me—making something submit, to bend it to my will. How could it not? But it was always unfulfilling in the end.

  Now though, after just a few minutes with the fiery, new temptress…it seemed things might get interesting.

  “She’s more than I could have hoped for,” I replied honestly, thinking Marcos was missing out with his penchant for the weak-willed and weak-minded.

  “I’m glad to hear it, but what I want to know is your assessment of her.”

  I laughed, but I wasn’t surprised. “I think she’s not typical of the girls you usually give me, but we knew there was a decent chance of that. She’s manageable and I have no doubt it will work out just fine.”

  He eyed me for a minute, but he let it go at that. The girl wasn’t the first atypical slave I’d trained, and she likely wouldn’t be the last. Just an interesting and arousing bump in the road.

  “So, what do you have planned for her next then?” he queried with a little more interest than usual. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had noticed the girl was unique.

  “Dinner,” I said, and it sounded simple enough. I smiled, knowing things were never quite what they seemed.

  I rose to leave but then paused. “Has Donovan been informed?”

  Marcos glanced at his watch. “Any time now.”

  Good. There was no backing out now—not that I had any intention of it. With that knowledge, I left the room, going in search of what I would need next.

  And ten minutes later, I unlocked the door and wheeled the cart and chair inside. Closing the door behind me, I glanced around, but the girl was nowhere in sight. The shower was running in the other room though, so I had a good idea where she was. And she either hadn’t heard me come in or else she’d already forgotten the lesson from just a few hours before.

  I left the tray and chair by the door and followed the sound and the billowing steam into the bathroom, but the scene wasn’t what I’d expected. It was strange enough to think she’d decided to grab a shower so soon, but she wasn’t even in the shower. She stood just a few feet from it, wrapped in the damn blanket I should have taken with me. She was barely visible through the steam, but as I got closer, I saw the moisture glistening on her skin. She’d turned the room into a fucking sauna. Did she think this was a day at the spa?

  “What are you doing?” I asked, keeping my tone light, amused.

  She whirled around, startled to find me there so close behind her. The look of panic and indecision on her face was priceless, but it did seem that what I’d told her before I left had slipped her mind. That, or she was a glutton for punishment—not that I minded.

  She remained there on her feet, staring back at me defiantly, though I could see the way her lower jaw trembled. I cocked an eyebrow, giving her one last chance to use some common sense.

  She didn’t take it.

  She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin higher, but it had none of the desired effects when her whole body was trembling with fear. It was amusing though. Almost cute. Like one of those pint-sized dogs barking at a pit bull. The pint-sized pup didn’t know it, but everyone else could plainly see that the pit bull could rip it to shreds without breaking a sweat.

  “So, you’ve decided to be difficult, have you? I can be difficult too, Pet,” I said as I reached for her.

  She pulled her arm out of reach and tried to sidestep me. But not only was I stronger than her, I was faster too. I grabbed hold of her around the waist and yanked off the damn blanket—and made a mental note to take the thing with me this time. And then I dragged her out of the bathroom to the bed.

  I shackled her wrists to the restraints protruding from the mattress and her whole body stiffened in anticipation of what she thought was about to come.

  Shame on me if I was ever that predictable.

  I chuckled and left her there while I went to retrieve the cart and chair I’d brought in, and I pulled them over next to her, just out of her reach. She tried to angle her body away from me, which only emphasized her slender curves. She was scared, no doubt still waiting for the lash of the belt, but she was also clearly confused. Good.

  I removed the lid from the tray and breathed in deep. As always, the food was exquisite. And by the way she stilled, she was beginning to realize what was going on. She’d lost several hours unconscious on the trip here, and then several more since then. While her mind wasn’t fully cognizant of the time that had passed, her body was becoming abruptly aware that nearly twenty-four hours had gone by since she’d last eaten.

  “I had intended to be kind, to reward your obedience. I was going to feed you, Pet. You are hungry, aren’t you?”

  She glared at me, but her nostrils flared, taking in the delicious aroma.

  “Answer me,” I growled.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes…I’m hungry.”

  “And after the fit, you threw—after you disobeyed me—do you think I should feed you?”

  “Yes,” she barked.

  “Is that so? Then what would stop you from disobeying me again?” I took a bite of the food on the plate.

  She squeezed her lips together. She refused to beg for forgiveness, and of course, she was stubborn, so she couldn’t agree with me.

  I took another bite and another. Her stomach growled, but to her credit, she didn’t make a sound, and she barely moved a muscle. Only her eyes moved, following the fork from the plate to my mouth, over and over again. Even when she could see that the last few bites were going fast, she held strong.

  When all the food was gone, her shoulders slumped just a little. I’d been hoping she would have put her pride aside for the sake of basic human survival, but I couldn’t say I was actually disappointed. It was just too much fun to watch the exquisite girl battle it out in her head. She was most certainly shaping up to be the challenge I’d hoped for.

  I re-covered the tray with the lid and wheeled it to the door and out of the room. While I’d debated leaving her shackled there, I couldn’t help but think of the steamy scene I’d walked in on, and I was curious what she would do next if left unshackled and to her own devices. I left the chair, too, just to add something new to the mix.

  As I approached her, she slunk back, still anticipating the spanking that wouldn’t come—at least, not yet. I caressed her cheek when she could slink no further away. She had incredibly s
oft skin, and I couldn’t deny that I was more than a little tempted to keep touching her just to feel her silken flesh beneath my fingers.

  I could see it in her eyes when she started to debate whether to sink her teeth into my hand. I’d seen Vito’s hand—her teeth were a powerful weapon, indeed—but she thought better of it and kept her lips clamped shut.

  That was a good sign. She could have easily done it—at least, she would have thought she could—but she already feared the consequences of such a reckless action. Stubborn, but not stupid. I was liking my new slave more every minute.

  Without a word, I unshackled her wrists, half-expecting her to lunge at me with teeth bared. But she didn’t move. She eyed me warily as I turned away, and I could feel her eyes boring into my back as I strode out of the room.

  I adjusted my cock once I’d closed the door. The girl was the most appealing sight I could remember, but we were just getting started.

  I sighed, thinking of the slaves Marcos kept in the house. I could use one now to take the edge off, but somehow it seemed like a poor substitute for what I had in store.

  When I returned in the morning and wheeled in the tray laden with food, I was only half-surprised to find her in the bathroom again. The water in the shower was running but there was no steam billowing out into the other room this time. Either she was running it on cold, or else she’d left it running for so many hours that the hot water had run out.

  I felt an odd pang when I went to investigate and found her huddled in the corner with her knees drawn up and her head tilted to the side. She was asleep, but the tears she’d cried had dried on her cheeks. Beneath the fan of her eyelids, the delicate skin was darker, the result of a combination of fatigue and a lack of food.

  Her hair was dry though, suggesting she hadn’t made use of the shower. But then, why did she have it running? It was odd, and it made me curious, but there would be time enough for answers. Right now, she needed to abandon her hard-headedness for the sake of her health.

  “Wake up,” I said, none too gently. I wasn’t there to hold her hand.