10
DARKNESS.
It became my whole world—in every sense. I thought after the brutal yet tender kiss we shared there would be a spark of hope that he wouldn’t play out some twisted act of revenge. But he did.
He led me into what looked like a mid-size luxury vessel from the outside, but in truth, once you boarded, it was gutted, revealing metal floors with iron nails. The only room that was decadent was a private salon like the one he had on Oasis. And I knew what the room was for—and shuddered as we walked past it.
He chuckled low in his throat, his hand firmly pressed against the small of my back as he pushed me down steep steps, to the underbelly of the boat.
He pulled a thick metal door open, pushing me inside. Chains hung from bolts in the wall. Metal dog bowls sat on the steel floor. It smelled fishy and dank; the only light came from a single bulb in the ceiling with a pull string to turn it on.
“Strip,” he commanded.
“No.”
“Still defying me? Ah, glykiá mou, you’re so sweet…thinking you have any control.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m not undressing for you.”
“Fine,” he snarled, “I’ll enjoy this much more anyway.” He had a knife out in seconds, held the pointed blade to the hollow of my throat. The metal was hot against my flesh. I was more afraid of what was pressing up against my belly than the blade pointed at my throat. His eyes never left mine as he let the blade slip; the pointy tip scraping lightly downward between the center of my breasts, my belly button…he grunted as he drew back letting the flat side of the knife scrape down the zipper covering my mound.
“You’re sick.”
“I never denied it.”
He grabbed the back of my head, thrust his tongue into my mouth and pushed me back against the rough wall. Despite my reluctance to be his prisoner my body wanted him…wanted his rough seduction to pull me under again.
One fist jerked the fabric away from my skin as the tip of the blade slashed down. He stared at me with nostrils flaring as the tattered fabric hung, exposing my naked flesh from the waist down.
“Christ, you're beautiful,” he groaned, letting the blade circle my nipples that hardened at its touch. I bit my lip, trying not to shift my weight. My thighs ached, needing friction. Maybe I’m just as sick as him? Why else would I be so turned on by a monster cutting the clothes off my body?
I waited for him to touch me with his mouth; his hands. But only the warm steel ran over my skin. He traced every curve, every vein when I moved he blocked me by using his forearm just below my throat to pin me in.
Then his tongue was there. Following the path of the knife, they both slid over my skin; hot metal and rough tongue. Each circling my breasts then one would circle the opposite of the other.
My arms that hung limply by my side awoke, clinging to him as he took each peak into his mouth, sucking, gently. But I knew the beast was there, under the surface. Despite his gentle touch now, I knew it would soon turn rough and hard.
I moaned, hands sliding to the back of his head, my fingers weaving through the black silk of his hair.
The pressure of his forearm moved to my throat. My eyes flew open as his dark face filled with anger. He drew back the blade turning it sideways and struck my nipples twice.
I screamed as the metal slapped my sensitive tips. In shock, my eyes lowered, real fear flooding through me as tiny drops of red dripped down my chest.
“Don’t touch me unless you are given permission, little dove. Your training starts now. Do you understand?”
My mind was too numb to answer. He jerked my chin up. “Yes, Master, is the answer I’m looking for.”
“I’m not your slave.”
His reply was to drop the knife and rip my shorts off. Then he picked up the blade by the tip, turned it upside down, so the onyx handle faced up. “No! What are you doing!” I choked out backing away, frantically trying to escape.
“I didn’t want to do this…actually, I did. Punishing you makes me hornier than fuck, little dove. But I was going to curb my urge to chain you. Say goodbye to your freedom. I’m clipping your wings.”
He sounded mad, talking in flowery language and hyperbole, I screamed as he clasped the first shackle around my wrist.
“Please —Christos, don’t. I’m begging you…”
“You had your chance. I gave you one; now I’m taking what I always wanted from you. From the second your resumé landed on my desk, I’ve been planning your abduction for months, little one. Do you know how many nights, I stroked myself, imagining this very moment?”
“Please,” I whispered, pulling the chain, but it held tight to the wall.
“Gah,” I gasped as the cool marble handle of his knife slid through my silk covered slit. Up and down he stroked me with the handle of the blade. My mind knew this was sick; depraved, but my body wanted relief—wanted this monster to make me come. Up and down he stroked, then he stopped on the pearl hidden between my folds, grinding the hard handle on it. I closed my eyes, shaking my head at his sweet torment. It hurt, it burned…I needed more.
He clasped the other shackle.
“How our positions have reversed, eh little dove?”
His hand drew back, slapping my pussy hard. Then his mouth lapped up the blood on my chest. It was sick. Hot as fuck as I watched his rough tongue tasting my lifeblood.
“Sweet. God, you taste fucking amazing. I want all of you. Do you understand? Everything from you. Your blood, your sex, your devotion, your mind…hell I want to suck your soul and devour it while I fuck every part of you—then do it over again and again until you lose all sense of self and think you are a part of me.”
I knew he was serious.
I wanted it, but knew I couldn’t break. I couldn’t let him take anything but my body. My heart and soul and more importantly—my mind, were things he could never touch. I needed to keep a clear head and find a way to escape. I did it once before, but not good enough. I was foolish to stay so close, within his reach. Part of me wanted him to find me, the sex was that good, but now I fully realize the danger I’m in. A drunk, drug-induced night is a far cry from being chained and naked at the mercy of the devil.
“It’s not too late. Let me go.”
“Never,” he rasped, scraping the edge of my panties with the tip of his knife. The sound of it ripping echoing with my pounding heart and quick breaths, bouncing off the walls around us.
“What’s it going to be, my sweet pet? My cock or my blade?”
I hung my head, knowing both would cut right through me.
My head jerked in surprise as one finger ran up my soaked seam instead. “Maybe both, eh, glykiá mou?”
The rounded knife handle felt cold against my blazing lips as he dragged it through, pausing as he teased my entrance with it. I gasped, he wouldn’t, would he?” He moved between my legs, dragging the handle through my cheeks, letting it knock at my back door.
He stopped. Let it nudge, once, twice. He knew what he was doing to me; my mind wanted it to stop—wanted my mother, but my body burned for more of the dark pleasure he was giving me.
“Some other time, my pet. I want to break you in slowly, savor every part of you, bit by bit.”
“I want to go home. Please, Christos. Let me go home.”
“This is your home now.”
“They’ll be worried. My father will know something’s wrong.”
“No, they won’t. You just sent them pics of Capri in a text message saying how happy you are. Thank you for taking those selfies with the crew and of yourself on that hike you took.”
“I hate you!”
“I know. Hate me all you want; it won’t stop me.”
He pulled back his hand, smirking at the evidence of my arousal on the knife. “Ah, you hate so sweetly, my love.”
“I’ll never be your love.”
“No. Probably not. I’m incapable of that emotion… of any emotion.”
“Clearly,” I responded.
He stood back, gazing over my naked body, chained and soaked for him.
“Such a beauty…and all mine to break. But first, I need to get us to open water, where your beautiful screams will echo up to the sky.”
The first piece broke. Tears leaked down my cheeks. I knew I might never see home again. See Mom and Dad, the cliffs of Malibu; the soil I wanted to escape was the only place I wanted to be right now.
He dipped his head, I tried to jerk away, but was powerless, trapped by his chains. He caught every tear; his powerful body shuddered as they landed on his tongue. “You please me, little one. I’ve tasted your blood, your tears; now I’ll taste…this.”
He dropped to his knees; hands forcing my knees apart as the hot spear of his tongue delved between my thighs.
He fucked me with it, curled it back to lick my G-Spot, then grabbed me by the hips, hooking my legs over his shoulders so he could reach just the right angle to suck that spot of nerves. The chains rattled as I battled him. Fought the need to come and escape.
He won.
Soon, my hips fell forward, trying to help him go higher. I was on the verge of exploding for him when he stopped. Nuzzled the fine hairs covering my mound, then spoke against it. “So, fucking sweet, little dove. But not yet. Your punishment is learning to please your master; maybe then, you’ll earn the right to come.”
He reared back, fingers sliding through me to find my clit. He touched it lightly. It quivered under his hand, needing him. He stroked it a few times, then dove three fingers in while his tongue sucked me.
“God!” I screamed, as he took me to the edge, then left me hanging.
He smirked, stood up, fiery eyes devouring the sweat and need coming off me. My eyes sought his, burned him with the hate of my gaze.
He was perfect. Utterly stunning in crisp gray trousers, Armani loafers, and a crisp white button-down shirt. Humiliation washed over me. Every button of his shirt was still done, the cufflinks gleamed at his elbows where his shirt was rolled. I was naked and chained like a dog, while he still oozed power and class. The only sign he was affected by what he was doing to me were the slashes of desire on his aristocratic cheekbones and the huge bulge between his legs.
“Like what you see, little one, eh?”
“Never,” I spat, “you’re ugly. Beautifully ugly. Perfectly ugly to me. I’d rather screw a piece of plastic floating in the ocean, than ever be with you again.”
“Careful, my dove. I might grant you that wish.” He just chuckled low in his throat as his sticky hands, covered with my need for him, reached up and unscrewed the light bulb from the ceiling.
He left me in darkness. Walked out, the thud of the door closing followed by the click of a lock.
I was powerfully outmatched.
The only thing I had was his sick desire for me. Maybe I could convince him I wanted this. I would pretend to fall in love with him; do anything he wanted. And when I could, I’d run. Run like hell and never look back.