Page 41 of Captured

Now, I laughed. “I don’t think my father would have cared very much.”

He stopped his movements altogether. “Why would you say that? I’m certain your father loves you very much.”

“No, I’m pretty certain he doesn’t.”

My statement didn’t surprise him in the least. It was a few seconds before he started walking again, finally moving behind me. When he leaned over, he placed the implement he’d selected inches away from my face. Oh, my God. A cane? He was kidding me. Wasn’t he?

“Understood, my angel. As I said to you before. You’re safe with me and now have a very happy home.”

The man wasn’t just deranged. He was psychotic in every way. As he rubbed the slender piece of blonde wood down my spine, I clawed the underside of his desk, wanting to smash the thick glass into thousands of pieces, and use them to gouge out his eyeballs. I’d find a way to do that one day.

He slipped the thin reed into the crack of my ass before tapping it on my bottom not once but twice. “This should prove an effective measure of your obedience.”

It was as if everything coming from his mouth was structured, practiced. For all the passion he exuded, he was also rigid, and the combination was very strange. I was contemplating why I was thinking that when the first cracks were issued across both sides of my bottom three times in rapid succession. I jerked up, slamming my hands into the glass surface so hard they ached.

He pressed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me down firmly. “It will hurt, Emily, but that will do you some good.”

“In whose world?”

“You’re so adorable. In mine of course, which is now yours as well.”

“You really are a son of a bitch.”

My nasty comment was met with a volley of brutal strikes against my bottom, the man’s perfect timing as if counting off beats like a metronome. I was stunned into disbelief, remembering the vivid dream from weeks before.

Or had it been?

Maybe he was truly supernatural, his abilities and darkness transcending time and space.

I fisted my hands. There was no chance of making sense of what was happening any more than I could with a dream that I’d endured.

“Just stay in position, my angel. I don’t think you want me to start over again.”

With my eyes clenched shut, I held my breath, the agony biting. I’d never felt anything so painful in my entire life, but I refused to cry out. Nope. He wasn’t getting any satisfaction from me.

The spanking was long and arduous, the man humming as he brought the cane down time and time again. I lost count of just how many strokes he gave me, my mind blown by the fact I was here, voluntarily lying across his desk. My breath was so hot it developed a layer of steam on the surface and for some reason, the sight of it made me laugh.

He stopped what he was doing, sliding the reed between my legs. “You’re wet for me.”

“I don’t think so.”

As if to prove me wrong, he shifted the implement past my pussy lips, rubbing up and down. The sensations were electrifying, so much so it was impossible to keep from reacting, the scattered moan slipping past my lips telling the tale of my full arousal.

“Your pussy lips are glistening. My hungry little baby. Don’t worry. Soon you’ll have everything you crave.” He continued rubbing me, driving me crazy with his actions.

I couldn’t seem to stop panting, the rushing desire more intense than it had been the night in my room. I raked my nails down the glass surface, fighting the urge to retaliate.

Yet when he slipped his fingers deep inside my tight channel, the ragged moan I issued was met with a deep, penetrating exhale.

“Yes, it will be a delicious joy to fuck you all over again. Are you ready, my angel? Are you prepared for the next phase of your life?”

“What does that mean? What happens now?”

“Now, I’m going to fuck you.”

CHAPTER 12

Styx