AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was all a ruse—just blackmail to make her submit to what he’d wanted from her from the beginning. He always got what he wanted. She’d been mad to think she’d be an exception to that rule.
“It’s a fourteen hour flight. We’ll have dinner, but you will let me know anytime you are hungry. All basic needs, you will let me know immediately, and I will provide them.”
“Will that be added to my tab as well?”
“Careful, Saskia.”
“Yes, Master.”
Each time she addressed him this way, the whole scenario felt more surreal.
Minutes passed. Except for the noise of the plane, they were surrounded by a silence so intense she felt forced to stare at her hands, which were folded on her lap. This time she’d worn jeans and a T-shirt. Quill hadn’t commented on her underwhelming attire. It was her last stand of defiance before he began to impose his own tastes.
“Saskia,” His voice was low and smooth—a seduction. “I want you to go into the bathroom and remove your clothing. Fold it neatly and place it on the counter. Then return to me. Don’t be longer than five minutes, or there will be consequences.”
And so it began.
He must have seen the abject terror in her eyes. She wasn’t ready for any of this. A few months ago, if someone had told her Joseph Quill was alive and well and he wanted a long-term sexual relationship with her—even one where she was his slave—she would have jumped at the idea.
The idea.
In the idea alone, she was safe. In the fantasy, he couldn’t humiliate or hurt her. He couldn’t discard her when he was finished. She would simply discard him—or his phantom—once she reached orgasm. Until the next time.
Saskia flushed at that thought. All the sordid things she’d fantasized about him... Now they might happen, and all she felt was panic at the possibilities.
“Don’t worry, Miss Roth. I’m not going to fuck you for quite some time. And when I do, it will only be because you begged so hard and cried so long that I took pity on you. Now, go.”
She didn’t dare offer a retort. She didn’t want to remind him that he had plans to deal with her smart mouth when they reached his estate. She didn’t even believe he was being all that arrogant. In reality, she could absolutely envision almost any woman being driven by Quill to beg for it.
The bathroom was bigger than she expected. But then, it was a large jet just for him and whoever he wanted to travel with. It wasn’t going to be some cramped box like on a commercial plane.
Even so, this was as nice as her bathroom in the villa had been and far more luxurious than the one she’d suffered through in her pre-fake-heist apartment.
Small marble tiles covered the floor and walls. The shower had blue glass doors. Both doors slid open and closed back to meet in the middle. She couldn’t believe there was a shower.
A fat vase of lilies sat on the counter. Saskia tried to pick up the vase. Nope, that sucker was glued down with something industrial. No danger it would get knocked around in turbulence. Her finger trailed over one of the velvety petals. The flowers were real.
All at once she remembered he’d put a clock on her. She must have stood in the bathroom gawking at her surroundings for three minutes at least. If not for anxiety over what her future with Quill would hold, she might have paused to appreciate just how far she was from ever having to worry about ramen noodles again. Or electricity. Or any of the other basic annoying things that meant the difference between comfort and hanging to the edge of survival by her fingernails. No, she was well outside the range of those worries. And fate had happily supplied her with a new set to keep her occupied.
Saskia slipped off her shoes, then removed the clothes and folded them as he’d asked. She tried to avoid looking too hard at her reflection. She didn’t want to see all the imperfections which would be bared to his gaze in mere moments. She took a deep breath and went back to the living area.
She stood in the doorway, unsure. She’d never seen herself as a person who was unsure, but Quill unmade her somehow just by his nearness. Maybe it wasn’t repulsion that had made her avoid succumbing to his earlier seductions. Maybe it was fear of the total obliteration of her identity. She didn’t know how to be anything when sharing oxygen with this man. She didn’t know how to make her voice heard next to his or her presence felt or seen. As an artist, he’d inspired her, but as a person, she felt he made her disappear.
He motioned her forward.
“Turn, slowly,” he said, when she reached him. “I’d like to assess my latest piece of art properly.”
She turned, but it wasn’t slow enough for him. His hand on her back stopped her. She had a brief flash to the last time his hand had been on her like this. Back in that moment in his study, she never would have believed this one could exist. Or that she could feel how she felt now.
Any previous fleeting thought she’d had of being naked in his presence had included running, crying, trying to push his hands off her while she desperately sought to wriggle away or hoped for a savior to rip him off her. It was the fear that had played in her mind on repeat nearly every time she’d been near him before today.
But now...
His hands pressed gently into her hips, pulling her closer. He kissed an achingly slow trail down her back. A whimper escaped her mouth as his hands moved, sliding up over her belly to end cupping her breasts.
“Exquisite,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to put you on canvas.”
Saskia felt him stand behind her and heard a box open. She tensed.
