A Bedtime Story (10 page)

“Ah, Kayne, my boy! How are you?” He affectionately embraced him
and smiled as kindly to her. “I presume this is the lovely Miss Spencer?”

She remained in the doorway, looking at the ground as instructed.
“Please, Laura. May I call you Laura? Come closer so I may have
a look at you.”

Seeing her hesitation, Kayne quickly interceded, “Come, Laura.” She
obeyed, approaching the desk, her eyes still glued to the floor. “Hmm… I see… very
lovely indeed.” He winked at Kayne, the latter remaining stoic. “Please sit down.
Are you enjoying the party?” Dimitri then asked Laura.

She remained quiet, too terrified to do anything without Kayne’s
direct commands. They always managed to reach her, no matter how far lost in her
thoughts she was.

“It’s her first time, Dimitri,” Kayne responded for her.

“Yes of course. You’ll see, it’s an acquired taste…” he added
playfully.

She shivered at the implication. Was she expected to return?

“So, Laura, Kayne tells me that you’ve been cooperative. I like
that, I like reasonable people. Suicidal heroics, what are they good for, huh? Only
wasted blood…” He gestured his hand disdainfully at the notion. “I just wanted to
make sure that we do have your full cooperation. Not that I don’t trust Kayne’s
judgment. I just wanted to see for myself, I’m sure you can understand. I would like
to ask you one simple question. Have you answered all of Kayne’s questions
truthfully?”

She remained quiet, unable to move a muscle.

“Answer him,” Kayne commanded her.

Her eyes snapped up, then back down remembering her
instructions.

“Yes, sir, I have.”

“Hmm…” Dimitri considered her some more.

“May I have a word with you in private?” Kayne then addressed
Dimitri, to which the latter nodded, waving his arm in consent. Kayne then turned to
her. “Laura, wait outside by the door for me.”

She nodded but didn’t move, her eyes imploring him
not to make her. She dreaded the thought of being alone in this place, even for a
moment, even on the third floor where none of the obscene party guests were
present.

“Go!” he commanded harshly.

She flinched at the severity in his voice and rushed to the door.
Patiently, she waited, every second seeming an eternity. When he finally came out to
meet her, he flashed her a radiant smile, his demeanor more relaxed than she had
seen it in the past few days. “Is it okay? Can we go now?” she asked
tentatively.

“Soon,” he answered her softly, gently bringing his hand to her
face and caressing her.

She closed her eyes at his touch, at the much-needed reassurance
and pretense of tenderness she so desperately craved.

He led her back downstairs where everyone seemed to have gathered
in a huge reception hall. A stage had been built in the middle. Tables, couches,
even beds were spread out all around it. While the men sat comfortably, the women
crouched at their feet as obedient pets, most of them being put to good use. Only
the handful of other women in gowns were sitting on chairs at the tables with the
men. A mattress lay on the center stage with a Dark Ages-looking pranger. A naked
woman was shackled to it. She was hung by her wrists by a dangling chain, forced
onto her toes. Bound with an iron collar, she remained very still as a shirtless man
in a black mask and leather pants whipped her mercilessly, drawing blood with every
stroke. The crowd cheered perversely with every blow that landed on her, ripping her
skin, as she howled in pain, sobbing desperately in between every stroke. “What is
this?” Laura’s eyes looked around wildly, like a frightened caged animal, ready to
strike at the slightest movement.

Kayne didn’t let her see his own sadistic smile. They could’ve left
after meeting with Dimitri. They didn’t really have to stay for the show.
He
wanted to
. He had wrecked his nerves the past few days over her, for her;
now she would return the favor. He wanted to see her reaction to it, test her
boundaries. He knew very well she
would be frightened and disgusted,
but would any part of her, however small, be also turned on?

Ignoring her question, he picked a couch in a hidden corner and led
her to it. Somewhere just far enough from the rest of the crowd so they could have
privacy and that she would feel a safe distance from her environment. Just close
enough so she couldn’t disconnect herself entirely from what was going on and be
forced to witness the show taking place in front of her eyes. He sat her next to
him, wrapping his arm around her.

“What’s going on…?” She was panting, panic seeping through her
hushed voice. Her eyes were glued to the horrid scene taking place. His were on
her.

“Relax, it’s just a show.” He gently rubbed her shoulder.

“It’s not just a show!” Though her voice remained low, it rose a
few octaves. “Kayne… Please… Please… I don’t want to be here…” Her eyes darted in
every direction.

He firmly took her face in both his hands, forcing her to stare at
him. “Laura. Calm down, it’s just a show.”

By now the masked man had abandoned his whip, and another had
joined him on stage. One of them began penetrating the woman forcefully from behind
as the other fucked her mouth savagely, her gagging sounds echoing throughout the
room.

Laura’s eyes went back to the stage, though her face was still
trapped in Kayne’s hands.

“They’re raping her…” she finally whispered to him, her voice
broken, her eyes in agony.

“They’re not raping her,” he assured her dismissively.

“They are! They’re raping her!” she insisted, her voice growing
erratic.

Kayne closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh, his nostrils
flaring. “Come with me.”

He pulled her off the couch by the arm in one quick movement and
dragged her out of the room, taking long strides as she struggled to keep up with
him.

He turned a corner, then another, and stopped
abruptly in the middle of a deserted corridor, pinning her wrists up to the wall. He
leaned in close, his mouth barely a few inches from hers. They were both panting,
Kayne, with a mix of aggravation and arousal, Laura from fear and the knot in the
gut she constantly felt when alone and close to him. He pulled his face back, his
breathing slowing to normal, but kept her pinned against the wall, maintaining his
firm grip on her wrists.

“There. Out of the room. Feel better?”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. He
sighed again, though this time his features softened. He leaned his forehead against
hers, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then pulled back. He let go of her wrists
and just stared at her, somewhere between amused and fascinated.

“What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head at her, the
corner of his lips quirking upward. “You’re really convinced she is being
raped.”

“
Yes
.” Her answer was emphatic, though spoken in a soft
voice.

He shook his head again. “And what makes you so sure?”

“Seriously?”

“Tell me.” He crossed his arms, a little annoyed at her
stubbornness and yet amused by it.

“You want me to believe that this was
consensual
? Listen, I
know all about S & M and bondage and stuff—”

His brow shot up with surprise, then smiling seductively, he
interrupted her, “Do you now?”

She immediately turned red, stammering, unable to hold his stare.
“Well… I mean… like… not firsthand…” and then with more conviction, she met his eyes
again. “But yes, I do know about it, and this,
this
, was not role play. It
was real, it was
very
real.”

“Which still doesn’t make it rape,” he concluded flatly.

“This was NOT consensual!”

“And you know that… how exactly?” he asked
patronizingly, clearly enjoying their little debate.

“You want me to believe she wants
this
?”

“What if I told you that I knew
for a fact
that she was into
this
.” He mimicked her disdain at the word.

“You can’t possibly know that…”

He didn’t answer, just lifted his brows in silent innuendo.

“You’ve done this to her…?” Her voice dripped with dread. She
backed away from him, every inch of her body pressed against the wall.

He leaned in, putting his arms against the wall by each side of her
shoulders, effectively caging her in, and wolfishly whispered into her ear, “Don’t
ask questions you don’t want answered, baby girl.” She gulped, the rest of her body
remaining very still.

“Will this happen to me?” she asked at last, her voice so soft it
was barely audible, her eyes filled with pain.

“What?” Genuine surprise marked his voice.

“You send girls here… when you’re done with them. Is that what will
happen to me? If you never find Peter… it’s not like you’ll keep me in your house
forever. And if you do…” Her voice cracked with pain. “It’s not like you’ll let me
go. Is this where you’ll send me?”

He pulled back again, his eyes inscrutable. “No, Laura, I will not
send you here.”

She lowered her head, shutting her eyes with relief. She remained
silent, numbed by too many emotions lived through too little time. When she opened
her eyes again, the tears she had been holding back fell freely down her cheeks.

He cocked his head, watching her beautiful face giving way to the
flow of tears, her big grey eyes glistening, her soft pink lips quivering. He
languidly grabbed her by the front of her dress and pulled her to him, arching her
body toward him. She didn’t resist,
looking up at him, her eyes
filled with questions. He met her gaze. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her softly
on her lips.

***

Laura lay in bed, replaying the night in her head over and over
again. She had never felt as confused in her life. She still shivered remembering
the
show
, the way the women were treated, and then the image of Kayne
appeared, overpowering all others. Kayne pulling her close protectively, Kayne
whispering scary and yet seductive things in her ear, Kayne shamelessly leering at
her naked body…

The last thought caused her body to react, and she felt the wetness
pool in between her legs again. She squeezed her legs and opened her eyes in an
attempt to banish the thought. And then she recalled his kiss. His sweet, gentle
kiss. She had liked his kiss, realizing she was leaning into it when he broke it
off. She remembered the sweet way he had looked at her after and held her hand to
pull her out of that nightmarish place. In the car, he was silent, almost distant.
She had glanced at him a few times hoping to catch his stare, but he never looked
her way.

When they got home, he caressed her cheek as he had so many times
that night and sent her off to bed while still standing in the doorway. He had
somewhere else to go it seemed. She wondered if he was returning to the party.
Tanya’s image flashed in her mind. She could picture her greeting him on his own,
making snide comments about her as she flirted away with him, taking him somewhere
private. Laura chose not to pursue this line of thought, surprised at how fast her
stomach turned with the vivid images in her head; her teeth clenched so hard her jaw
hurt.

She couldn’t understand why she felt that way. She was at a loss
when it came to him. She couldn’t reconcile the Kayne that kissed her so sweetly,
that had protected her, even comforted her, with the Kayne who participated in these
sordid parties, who admitted unblinkingly to the monstrous things he would do there…
The same Kayne, she recalled her chest tightening, who had brought her into an
interrogation room and had, by his own confession,
interrogated
countless others. Yet he had stepped in, had rescued her from the wolves he had
delivered her to. What kind of monster was he? What kind of monster kisses like
that? She caught herself wondering what it would be like to be with him. Would he be
gentle? Would he be cruel as she knew him to be capable of? Or maybe… a little of
both?

She felt an urge to touch herself down there, to soothe the ache
building between her thighs. She resisted, unable to accept the effect he had on
her. She had touched herself before, but never with anyone specific in mind,
especially not a man, a
monster
, like him.

T
he next day, Laura slept in. When Olga
came sometime in the afternoon to take back the untouched breakfast, Laura was just
waking up.

“Ah, you’re finally up. Should I bring you a fresh breakfast? This
won’t do.” She pointed to the cold food on the trolley, her smile as radiant as
ever.

“Hmm… It’s okay, I think I’ll just have coffee for now. Thank you,
Olga.”

“As you wish.” She was about to turn to leave then added, almost as
an afterthought, “Master Kayne wanted me to inform you that he won’t be home for
supper tonight. Would you still like to eat at seven?”

“He
won’t
?” Laura asked, a little too loudly.

“No, Miss Spencer.”

“Oh… Yes, seven will be fine, thank you.”

Laura could barely disguise the disappointment in her voice. He had
never missed supper since he had brought her to the house. She used to dread it. She
was even locked in a cage barely a week ago for refusing his company. Now, she felt
a wave of disappointment, she almost felt rejected. Was he avoiding her? She
couldn’t help but wonder, feeling like a teenage girl waiting for a call after a
first date. In a twisted way, it almost was, even ending with a soft kiss. She shook
the thoughts away, forcing herself to get through the day. Every so often she caught
her thoughts treading a dangerous path, a path he had led her into, and now left her
alone in.

L
aura dreamt of him for the second night in
a row, waking up panting, her panties carrying evidence of the nature of the dreams.
She woke up early, impatiently awaiting Olga’s arrival. When she finally came in at
nine to bring in her breakfast, Laura attempted to mask her nerves as she inquired
about
Master Kayne
’s whereabouts.

“Thank you, Olga, it was delicious.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Spencer.”

“Olga… Can you just call me Laura, if that’s okay?” She smiled at
her, her warmth genuine.

“Of course, Miss Laura, if you prefer.”

“You can just call me Laura…”

“No, no, Miss Laura… that wouldn’t be proper.” Olga refused
adamantly, waving her hands in front of her chest. Though Olga was old school,
proper manners were more meaningful than tradition and culture to her. They were a
lifeboat. She had convinced herself that keeping her head bowed and her eyes to the
floor had kept her employer’s hands away from her. She had suffered too much at the
hands of men before being taken into the household. Once upon a time, she was young
and thought herself invincible. She learned the hard way; the world rewarded the
humble and spared only the invisible.

“Oh… Okay…” Unable to comprehend, Laura didn’t insist.

“Well, will you be needing anything else?” Olga asked, her kind
smile quickly back on her face.

“Hmm… actually... I was just wondering… Can I have supper in my
reading room tonight?”

“Yes of course, wherever you like, Miss Laura. Any
special requests?”

Her face dropped.
He was avoiding her
. Was it because of the
kiss? She couldn’t help but wonder. Did she do anything wrong? She could see Olga
was still waiting for her answer, so she composed herself.

“Hmm… Nope, carte blanche.” She smiled at her.

“Very well then.” Olga reciprocated her smile, pleased with the
vote of confidence.

Laura was grateful for Olga’s presence in the house. She brought
warmth and humanity to the place. She realized she had been the only person she’d
had any type of human contact with… besides
him
.

She thought back to her old life, barely two weeks ago, it seemed
like a lifetime ago. She wondered if anyone worried or asked about her, realizing,
her throat choked with emotion, most likely not.

***

She woke up late at night in the reading room with the book still
opened on her lap. She scrubbed her eyes, trying to read the time on the TV clock;
it was past one in the morning. Still half asleep, she dragged herself off the
couch, led by the prospect of the comfortable bed awaiting her, as a dangling carrot
from a stick. Once into the hallway, she could hear TV noises and see it cast
shadows on the opposite wall.
He was there
, watching TV in the living room.
She remained in place, hesitant. To her right awaited the safety of her bedroom. To
the left,
him
, and all the implications that only word contained. Her
heartbeat quickening, she took a few steps to the left. She wanted to see him, to
know how he would react to her, what would ensue following their last encounter.
She’d always had a morbid curiosity that pushed her forward to meet the storm
head-on, to open Pandora’s box, come what may. She’d almost turned the corner but
lingered behind the wall, her impulses finally confronted with reason.
Shouldn’t
she just wait?
He could not possibly avoid her within his own
house forever. It was madness to seek his company, alone, in the middle of the
night.

“Laura.” His voice resounded crisp through the distance.

Her heart beat even faster; she didn’t move.

“You should really work on your stealth mode if you don’t want to
be heard…” he said playfully into the darkness while she still hid behind the
wall.

She showed herself but remained lingering at the edge of the
corner, almost childlike. “Hi…”

He was sitting in his usual spot on the couch, wearing jeans and a
white shirt unbuttoned at the top. A bottle of whiskey was sitting on the table by
his glass. He looked her up and down, a sensual languor in his stare. She was
wearing a tight white cotton T, the V-neck showing just a little cleavage, and cute
granite-colored yoga pants in a thigh-hugging cut that accentuated her curves.

“You’re up late,” he observed.

“Yeah… well no. I passed out in the reading room… I mean, that room
with the red couch… I call it the reading room…” she rambled on nervously, then
catching herself, offered an embarrassed smile and continued with more
self-assurance. “I was on my way back to my bedroom.”

“Wrong way,” he pointed out with a smirk on his face.

“Yes… I heard noise…” she explained. “Well, I don’t want to bother
you…”

“You’re not. Have a seat.”

She took a few unsure steps before settling on the La-Z-Boy.

“So, did you finish that book I gave you?”

“No, not yet…”

“How come? You don’t like it?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I really do actually. It’s just that—” She
caught herself before finishing the sentence.

“It’s just that…” he urged her.

She felt herself blushing. “Nothing. I guess I’ve
just been a little… distracted…”

“And what has you distracted?” He smirked.

“Everything…”

He gave her an impatient look, which effectively untangled her
tongue.

“I don’t know… everything… the
party
…” She looked away with
the latter admission.

“What about it?”

“May I ask you a question?” she ventured hesitantly, throwing
furtive looks his way.

He waited for her to gather the courage and look him in the eye.
“Ask.”

“The women there… Were they… sex slaves?” she asked uneasily. He
let out a long sigh, getting up to get another glass, which he filled and set next
to his,
not at her end of the table
. His eyes silently communicated the
directive. She understood, got up, and settled on the couch uncertainly. She brought
her feet up and wrapped her arms around them, simultaneously pushing herself to the
furthest side of the couch and away from him, all the while under his scrutinizing
stare.

“Some, not all,” he finally answered. “Drink.”

She took a small sip, already regretting taking the conversation
down that path. But she had to know, had to know the extent to which her puzzling
captor could cross the lines of right and wrong, the extent to which darkness
resided in him.

“Do you… Do you do that?”

“Do what? Deal in sex trafficking?”

She nodded, apprehension in her eyes.

“Not personally.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his
knees, eyeing her sideways.

She sighed with the small relief that came with his
answer, but persisted, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it vocalized,
“But the people you work with do.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his face showing no emotion.

“You don’t… care?”

“No, Laura, I don’t.”

“But… how can you stand for it?”

“I don’t
stand
for it… I don’t stand
against
it,” he
corrected her, his tone rising with annoyance. “I’m not out to save the world,
Laura.” He leaned back in his seat, looking her in the eye. “Just protect what is
mine.”

She felt her stomach churn. “Don’t you worry about catching
anything? I mean…”

“The girls are closely supervised and regularly tested. They’re
clean,” he threw dismissively.

“And… the others… were there by choice…?” she asked, still
doubtful.

“The others were there because their masters wanted them there, and
they want to please their masters.” Though his voice was still annoyed, unapologetic
delight danced in his eyes as he explained the last part.

It sent shivers down her spine. She thought of stories she’d read,
where the willing prey lustfully bared their necks for the vampire’s deadly bite.
She’d been fascinated by those tales, by their cursed lovers damned to destroy
whomever they loved, and by the men and women who loved them despite it all. Kayne
had claimed he’d never had a relationship, and she wondered about the women who’d
been in his life. What were they to him? What was he to them? Who were they? A
colorful and highly abrasive image materialized in response. The redhead.

“What about that woman… Tanya I think?” She tried to conceal her
disdain as she pronounced her name. Turning her eyes away, she could still feel him
smile.

“What about her?” he asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
“She wasn’t like the others… She doesn’t have a...
master
?”
She felt repulsion uttering the word.

“She belongs to Dimitri.”

“Oh… I just thought…”

“And what did you think?” he inquired, a smile softening his
features.

“I just thought… I thought you were together…” she admitted, her
eyes constantly moving to the floor with discomfort and back to his face, seeking
his reaction.

“She was mine. A long time ago.”

“Oh.”

He indulged her curiosity with amusement. He’d never let other
women interrogate him like that, but her candid questions alone were more revealing
to him than any answer she sought. So he let her ask away, divulging the nature of
her curiosity, her fascination with the sinister world he had just introduced her
to, his world, even betraying a pang of jealousy she could barely disguise.

A silence followed, while she took small sips of her drink, the one
question she’d been wanting to ask, still burning on her tongue. She took another
sip, liquid courage they called it. It did the trick. “Are you a sadist?” she
blurted, surprised at her own boldness.

He lifted a brow, seemingly taken aback as well, then offered her
his most devilish, seductive smile. “What’s your question, Laura? You want to know
how I like to fuck?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. She realized too late she had crossed
the line. It wasn’t about sex slaves, abuse, and female solidarity anymore. It was
about
him
, and he knew it.

“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “No, I just… I just don’t
understand… how any woman could want this…
consent
to it… That woman on
stage, it was horrible… you said… you did this to her too…” Her voice trailed off,
her courage long gone.

“Hmm…” He reached for her foot.

She instinctively tried to pull away. Her heart was
racing, her nerves on high alert. In response, he wrapped his hand firmly around her
ankle, though not hard enough to cause pain, his eyes conveyed the warning. She took
short sharp breaths, panic overwhelming all other emotions as he calmly waited until
she willed her body to relax and he could feel her foot loosen in his grip. Only
then did he release his hold. He brushed the tips of his fingers against the bare
skin around her ankles and the top of her foot, drawing little shapes on her
skin.

“Sometimes what you think you want and what your body wants are
very different,” he finally said, his voice gruff as his eyes followed the little
patterns he softly drew on her bare skin. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, but she
remained silent, only her loud breathing being heard. “I think you can understand
that…” he added, his eyes smoldering.

She shook her head in denial, her eyes bewildered.

“No…?” he taunted her, still playing with her foot. “Then tell me,
Laura, why did you get so wet when I made you strip for me?” he goaded, his smile
devilish.

She opened her mouth, then closed it right back in the face of his
intense gaze, daring her to deny it. He chuckled softly at her unvoiced indignation.
His hand lingered on her ankle a little longer, then in a flash he grabbed them both
and pulled her, wrapping one leg behind him, the other on his lap. He leaned toward
her, pinning her wrists over her head to the arm of the couch. His upper body
towered over her, he could feel her frantic short breaths against him and smiled
wickedly. “So many things I can do to you right now…”

She looked up at him, her frightened eyes silently pleading with
him.

How he admired his captive prey. With a hungry look in his eyes, he
brought his face close to hers, his mouth hovering over hers. She closed her eyes
and, with a bitterness contradicting her fluttering heart, surrendered to his
kiss.

He didn’t kiss her. Instead, he moved his lips
away. Slowly, his mouth traced the lines of her jawbone, on its unhinging journey
down and up her neck, his own breathing growing louder with arousal.

“Would you stop me, Laura? Would you
consent
?” he huskily
whispered into her ear.

She felt her stomach knot, the feeling so familiar now, her breaths
growing even faster and louder than before, unsure whether from fear anymore.
“Please… Please… sir… let me go back to my room…” Her eyes began to water.
“Please…”

He pulled back, looking her in the eye, and shook his head, his
smile predatory. If it had worked to her advantage before, she couldn’t have picked
a worse time to address him as such. He felt himself harden and brought her wrists
together without haste to lock them in his left hand. He brought his free hand to
her face, the tip of his fingers tracing its outlines, then softly down her neck and
over her collarbone. “Bet you wish you would’ve gone straight to your room…”

He moved his fingers straight down the middle of her chest over her
shirt, his eyes following the path his fingers traced. He lingered a little around
her belly button. Then crooking his finger over the hem of her yoga pants, he
caressed her bare skin with the back of his finger, following the hemline.

She was panting and didn’t utter a word, overwhelmed with
conflicting emotions dominating her. She could feel the moisture build between her
thighs, her apprehension mixing with a very different feeling.

He continued his way down over her pants, at a maddeningly slow
pace, taking his time and savoring every moment. When he finally reached his
destination, he didn’t touch her there, where she was aching for his touch and
dreading it at the same time. His fingers circled around it, making her ache only
grow. At last, he delicately rested his fingers there, barely touching her.