Page 156 of To Catch a Sub

“Hmm.” He cupped one breast, sliding his thumb over the inner curve and nipple. She flinched slightly, so he flicked her nipple a second time.

“Go. The bathroom is there.” He pushed her gently towards the open interior door. Colette closed the door, but didn’t dare lock it.

Then she ran to the sink, bracing her hands on cold marble and dry heaving. The chain between the cuffs clinked against the stone as she lurched and heaved.

She wasn’t sure if it was fear or the drugs they’d given her that caused her stomach to try and escape out her mouth.

The urge passed, and she washed her hands before splashing cold water on her face.

She didn’t have time for this. Damien could burst in here at any moment, and she did need to pee.

After relieving herself, Colette desperately wiped, trying to make herself as dry as possible in hopes he’d reach the same conclusion now that he had before.

She washed her hands one more time, then looked in the wide mirror over the sink.

And froze.

Her breasts.

Fighting back a sob, she touched the faint love bite below and to the left of one nipple. It had been glorious when Landon had put it there. She’d begged him for more. Begged him to mark her.

And he had, as evidenced by the smattering of hickies on her tits.

Whirling, she checked her ass, but evidence of her spanking was gone, with the possible exception of one small bruise high on her thigh, but unless someone knew she’d been recently spanked they would just assume she’d bumped into, or sat on, something.

But no one would mistake the love bites on her breasts for bruises.

Colette faced front, blinking back tears. Damien had already seen them. That’s why he’d touched her before letting her in here.

Still, Colette wet a washcloth with cold water, holding it against one of the pink marks, as if that would magically make it go away. It didn’t.

Throwing the washcloth in a momentary fit of fear-born frustration she gave herself another moment to hide before straightening.

All she was doing was delaying the pain.

Before she went out there to face what came next, she reached up into her hair. If they’d found and removed the key, it would mean losing any hope of freeing herself.

It was still there. If she wanted she could undo these cuffs right now.

There was no point—the bathroom was windowless, and walking out uncuffed would make everything worse. Still, she had a way out. It had saved her before.

She opened the bathroom door, stepping naked into a room that was now lit with a dozen lamps and even a scattering of candles. Floor lamps were crowded against the edges of the bed. Two men besides Damien were present, one of them balanced on a chair at the foot of a bed, hanging a caged bulb that looked like it belonged in a mechanic’s shop from the sprinkler in the ceiling.

Colette frowned. She hadn’t noticed the sprinkler before. Usually things like that were only present in commercial property. Like hotel rooms. Was this a hotel room? She couldn’t see the door, so didn’t know if there was an emergency information and escape map posted on the inside.

There’d been no mini shampoo in the bathroom, but those were easy-enough to remove. The towels had all been white, which weren’t a deciding factor either way.

“Come here, wife.”

Trying to decide if this was a hotel room gave her something to focus on as Damien pushed her down onto the bed, once more locking her cuffs to the chain. This time he grabbed her knees, forcing her to bend and spread her legs.

She closed her eyes, the light above her so bright it hurt to look at it, but hope blossomed inside her. The heat from the bulb would set off the sprinkler. In the chaos that followed maybe she could uncuff herself and get away.

What if it’s an LED bulb, and doesn’t give off heat?

“Beautiful, yes?” Damien said, tracing swirling patterns over her inner thighs.

The two other men were still here. One responded in a Slavic language, and Damien answered in the same tongue. She recognized that man, both from her first time as Damien’s captive, and from the recent kidnapping. He’d been the one wielding the syringe.