Page 23 of Sweet Captivity


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“We’re going to have to work on that tongue of yours. I have a pretty gag that I think will suit you well until you can learn to mind your language when you speak to me.”

My eyes flew wide, and I tried to shake my head. His hand firmed on my face, stilling the sign of my denial.

“Hush now, gatita. It’s time for your reward.”

I brought my hands up and wrapped them around his forearm, clawing at his flesh with my fingernails in an attempt to free my mouth from his cruel hold.

He growled and released me, but only long enough so he could roughly turn my body to face the wall. His weight pressed against my back, pushing my breasts hard against the cold tiles. I yelped and tried to push back, but my hands slipped uselessly against the slick wall. He wrapped one hand around my throat, squeezing. This time, he applied enough pressure to restrict my airflow. I thrashed on wild instinct, but his weight kept me pinned and powerless.

Please, I tried to beg him to release me, but the word couldn’t make it past his hold on my throat, and a strangled sound emerged instead.

“Breathe, cosita,” he urged, not letting up.

I barely managed to suck in shallow breaths. My head began to spin, and I stopped fighting as the strength seeped out of my body. His free hand dipped between my legs, gathering up the slick arousal that inexplicably coated my inner thighs. He moved his touch farther back, trailing his slick forefinger over a sensitive patch of skin between my sex and asshole, then…

No. My lips formed the word, but I wasn’t capable of wasting any air to make a sound of protest.

His finger pressed against my tight ring of muscles. I clenched, resisting. He nipped at my earlobe, and the little jolt of pain sizzled through me, reaching my core and making it throb. As it contracted, his finger slipped inside me. He barely penetrated me, but I felt horribly full and utterly trapped. My knees began to tremble as I continued to struggle for oxygen.

“Are you sorry for scratching me?” he asked calmly, as though he wasn’t degrading me in a way I

’d never wanted to experience.

I managed a thin whine and nodded slightly.

He kissed the hollow beneath my ear. “Good girl. Don’t do it again.”

He pressed forward, sealing the rebuke by sliding his long finger all the way inside me. My muscles rippled around him, burning as my body tried to resist the intrusion. Something dark stirred low in my belly, tension coiling at my core.

He finally released my throat, and I gasped in a desperate breath. The rush of oxygen went straight to my head, and the world spun around me. Remaining seated deep inside my most forbidden area, he caught my falling weight with his other strong arm around my waist. I sagged back against him, sucking in air. His hand splayed beneath my bottom, bracing me as a second finger found my wet channel. He eased inside my sex, and I could feel him filling me everywhere.

It was too much to bear, too humiliating. Too stimulating. Rational thought had been obliterated in the wake of the primal imperative to breathe, to survive. My body could only shake and submit to what he was doing to me. All my sensitive nerve endings lit up, and the tension that had been coiling deep inside me released, leaving me on a ragged shout. My muscles clenched around his fingers as I found shameful ecstasy under his ruthless touch. He gently pumped in and out of me, making my nerve endings crackle and dance. Sparks of pleasure raced up my spine to flood my mind, overwhelming all my senses.

The spinning world flickered around me, darkness sliding across my vision. I surrendered to it, closing my eyes as he continued to hold my weakened body upright.

His fingers finally slid out of me, leaving me feeling strangely empty; hollowed out and utterly defeated. The water stopped falling around us, and he lifted me up in his arms again as though I weighed nothing. He was so strong, so hard and unyielding. A fine tremor raced through my exhausted body, the only movement I was capable of.

He wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around me. I snuggled into it, hiding my face between the soft fabric and his sculpted chest, as though I could simply sink into the warmth and disappear. Anything would be preferable to facing the shame of what he’d just done to me.

I’d thought I’d regained some power over him when I’d made him come, but he’d quickly demonstrated how powerless I truly was. His punitive touch had brought me pleasure, pleasure I hadn’t wanted but had been wrought from my body by his masterful hands regardless of my wishes.

He’d claimed he wasn’t going to break me, but in that moment, I felt completely shattered.

Chapter 8

Andrés carefully dried my body, rubbing the soft towel over every inch of my sensitized skin. My nipples and sex ached, and my bottom burned slightly, a constant, cruel reminder of how he’d subjugated my entire being.

When he was satisfied that I was dry, something tugged at my damp hair. I registered the rhythmic pull of brush bristles through my hair, massaging my scalp. It made my head tingle, a pleasant sensation I tried to deny.

“I’m not a doll,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes closed to avoid facing reality. I remained still and compliant where he’d placed me in his lap. I couldn’t muster up the will to fight.

“Hmmm,” he mused, continuing to run the brush through my hair in methodical strokes. “You’re not a pet. You’re not a doll. Is there anything you do want to be, sirenita?”

“What does that mean?” I asked instead of answering his question. He was teasing me, and I refused to rise to it. If I did, he’d likely devise another devious way to prove to me that I would be whatever he wanted me to be.

“A literal translation would be little mermaid,” he said.

I finally opened my eyes to study his face. Was he mocking me?

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