Taken (Dark Grove Plantation) (2 page)

On the next stroke, he was silent, forgetting to thank her.  She knew then that he had entered his submissive headspace, and it was time for her to stop.
  She removed the cuffs that held him spread-eagle on the bed and then gently turned him ont
o
his back.
  She lay there with him,
languorously
running her fingers through his short blonde hair,
tracing her nails across his defined abs.  It once would have given her pleasure to reflect on the fact that she had reduced
such a stro
ng man to a simp
ering mess
.  She tried to summon up some o
f the joy that she usually felt
,
but
then
Charlie muttered
something that utterly shocked her.

“I love you, Mistress,” he murmured in his stupor.

Ella’s eyes widened. 
Oh no.
  This wasn’t at all what she wanted.  She suddenly felt co
ld all over as guilt and shock
came crashing down on her like a tsunami.
  She had just been questioning if she even
liked
playing with Charlie anymore, and now he made this startling admission?

Ella wanted to draw away from him, to recoil.  But he was still coming back up, and she didn’t want him to drop if she abandoned him.  Maybe he wouldn’t remember saying it and they could move on.

But she knew then in her gut that she would have to break things off with him, never play with him again.  It just wasn’t fair to him for her to string him along when she had no feelings for him other than fond affection.
  She was suddenly grateful that they had been playing in a private
r
oom, that
no one had overheard.  That would have been… complicated.  She didn’t want people to think her callous or manipulative.

But I am, aren’t I? 
S
he felt like shi
t
, hating herself for what she had done to Charlie.

After w
hat seemed an eternity, hi
s eyes finally fluttered open
.  He smiled up at her sleepily, his beatific expression letting her know that he was completely sta
t
ed, satisfied.

“Come on,” Ella said gently, wanting to escape the private room.  “Let’s go back to the bar.”

Charlie looked crestfallen.  Did he remember what he had just admitted?  If he did, he didn’t mention it.  And Ella was extremely grateful for that.  She didn’
t like messy situations
, awkward conversations.  She was used to facing problems head on, making an argument.  But the last thing that Cha
rlie needed in his vulnerable state
was a courtroom-style sma
c
k-down.

Ella
found that she could no longer meet his intense blue eyes, and she was relieved when he quietly followed her out of the room and back into the corridor that would lead them to the bar area.

When they reached it, the coward in her took over, and she excused herself to talk to Gwen.

“Hey!”  The bubbly, curly-haired blonde greeted her with her usual cheeriness.

“Hey,” Ella tried to smile, but she could feel that it came out as more of a grimace. 
“Rum and coke, please.
  And make it a double,” she added.

Gwen’s eyes softened.  “Man trouble?”  She asked, understanding instantly.

“You have no idea,” Ella responded glumly, unable to mask her dark mood.

“Maybe I can help with that,” his dreaded voice said from over her shoulder. 
She spun to face Brandon
to find him grinning smugly.  “Unless I’m the trouble you’re referring to.  If so, I’m extremely flattered that I affect you so deeply.”

“You wish,” Ella said snappily.

“Then let me make it all better, sugar” he said, reaching out to run his hand casually down her upper arm, touching her as though he had every right.

She slapped it away.  “Don’t make me safe word on you again,” she threatened.  “You know I will.”

That wiped the smirk right off his face, replacing it with a grimace.
  She almost wanted to take a step back at the sudden forbidding aura that radiate
d off of him;
his fists
were
clenched
and the lines of his face
were
drawn
down harshly.  “I wouldn’t try that again if I were you,” he said roughly.  “Otherwise you’ll become
known as the girl who cried ‘red’
.”

“‘Girl?!’”
  Ella blanched.  “How dare you!  I’m so sick of you demeaning me.  I demand your respect,” she said
haughtily
, raising her chin and putting on her best Domme-
ly
air.
 

From the way he chuckled at her, she could tell that it did not have the desired effect.  And if she was honest with herself, it
was
a bit laughable to think that she could make this powerful man who towered over her back down.

“Have I told you how cute you are when you’re angry?”  He asked, his eyes dancing, taunting her.

“You know very well that you have,” she snapped, realizing too late that she was rising to his bait.  “If you can’t come up with anything more original, then I’m bored of this conversation already.”

She spun on her heel to stalk away, head held high, but she was stopped short when a large hand encircled her upper arm.  She had to suppress a shiver at how small it made her feel, how breakable in his grasp.
  Instead, she glared back
at
him over her shoulder.

“Haven’t I told you not to touch me?”  She asked, knowingly repeating herself, just as he had done moments before.

He laughed again, clearly amused.  But there was not
h
ing smug in his chuckle this time; he was genuinely surprised and pleased.

“Ah, Ella, the things you do to me,” he said, grinning.

She stared at his hand on her arm pointedly, but he didn’t release her.  Instead, the strength of his grip increased incrementally, reinforcing how powerless she was against him if he decided to take her, ignoring her wi
l
l…

Ella blushed as she realized that her nipples were hardening, her core pulsing.  That was all the evidence that Brandon needed; it was the first visible sign that she had ever given him that she was interested.  Cursing herself, she struggled to cool her
heated
cheeks.

Baseball.
 
Spiders.
 
Vacuuming
the house.
 
She went through a list of things she hated, determinedly quelling the lust that had arisen w
ithin her.  When all of it
had faded, she met Brandon’
s eye with a stee
ly gaze.

His brows were raised, surprised.  “I’m impressed,” he conceded.  But then his voice lowered.  “But don’t think I didn’t just see that chink in your armor.  And don’t think I won’t exploit it.”

“Oh?”  She asked imperiously.  “And how do you plan to do that?”  Her voice was sardonic, but her body was still longing to react to the warmth of his hand on her arm.  Looking within herself, she found that she didn’t really want him to let her go, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.

Brandon cocked his head at her, studying her intently for a moment.  “You know,” he said softly.  “I think I have your number now.”

“What?”  Ella asked
,
a bit frightened at what he meant.  Had he really seen beyond her hard façade?  Had he truly learned something about her in those few moments of vulnerability?

“You like to win, don’t you? 
Like to play games?”

Well, that much was definitely true.
  She tried to hide her keen interest, but she could feel that her eyes betrayed her curiosity.

“Maybe,” she hedged.

He grinned.  “So that’s a ‘yes,’ then,” he said, clearly pleased that he had assumed correctly.
  His expression turned solemn, but there was something mocking in his eyes, taunting her to rise to his challenge.  And damn it if she didn’t want to.

“I propose a bet,” he said.  “
If you can resist coming for me – without having sex -
I’ll leave you alone forever.”

Hmmm.
  The idea was tempting.  But what were the terms?  “And if you succeed?”  She asked, trying to keep the nervousness from her voice.

His grin turned predatory, more a
baring
of the teeth than a smile.  “Then I get to have you.  You’ll be mine for the night.”

Something quivered in Ella’s bel
l
y, and she couldn’t tell if it was from fear or arousal at his proposition.  This was a very dangerous game, a dangerous wager with potentially humiliating consequences.  But his hand was still on her arm, radiating warmth throughout her entire body.  What would it be like to be dominated by a man, to give up control?  Her submissives certainly reveled in it, found great release through submitting to her.  Could she learn to enjoy it as well?
  Curiosity overcame common sense, and she nodded.

“I’ll take that bet,” she said finally, definitively.

Brandon beamed as though Christmas had come early.  “Excellent.”

“But,” she
insisted
on a caveat, “
we
do this somewhere private.”

“Agreed,” he said, unfazed.  “We’ll go to one of the private rooms.  And then when I win, you’re coming home with me.  You’ve agreed to a whole night, and the club closes in two hours.”

Ella gasped.  He was so conceited, so sure that he would break her down.  “Well I wouldn’t bet on that outcome.”

He just laughed.  “I already have.  And I feel pretty good about the odds.  Come on.”

Never releasing his hold on her arm, he began str
iding forward, pulling her along
in his wake.  Ella wasn’t going to stand for that.  He had agreed to do this privately, and the last thing she wanted was for people to see a Dom dragging her across the club into a playroom.  She tried to jerk away from him, but his fingers were like steel. 
Fine.
  If he wanted to play r
ough, she would play rougher.  Sp
laying her fingers, her nails like claws, she gripped his wrist, digging into it harshly.  Ella couldn’t suppress a smile when Brandon cursed, releasing her.  He
stopped in his tracks and
stared down at his arm, wide-eyed.  There were angry red half-moons where her nails had bit
ten
into him.  Then his expression
darkened, and he glared
down at h
er, his eyes promising
retribution.

“You’ll pay for that later,” he said roughly, his tone more dangerous than angry.

Although she wanted to shrink away, Ella returned his stare, challenging him.  “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you’ll see me try alright.  And succeed.  You don’t seem to understand
what you’ve gotten yourself into, little one.  You lost the moment you agreed to this bet.”

Something pleasurable stirred in her belly, and Ella had to fight the urge to drop her eyes.  He was so… powerful, so intimidating. 

Possibly even more intimidating than I am,
she admitted to herself grudgingly.  The thought scared her.  As did her reaction to his dominant bearing.

“We’ll see,” was all she could think to say.  He smirked at her lame answer, sensing that she was weakening in the wake of his relentless onslaught.

“Come,” he said simply, turning and walking away from her, assuming she would follow obediently.  Ella stood frozen for a moment, the Domme in her digging in her heels, refusing to follow a direct order.   No one told her what to do.
  But she had agreed to the bet, and she had to go to the private room with him.

“Damn it!”  She cursed under her breath, rushing to catch up to him.
  As much as she didn’t want to be too close to him, to be pulled in by that aura of power he exuded, she sure as hell wasn’t going to walk behind him.  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and she could see one side of his mouth curved up in a lopsided smile.  He was obviously enjoying himself.

Imperious asshole,
she thought.  But she didn’t feel as resentful as she knew she ought to.  Instead, she felt a disconcerting fluttering in her chest.  She didn’t want to even consider what that meant.

Finally, Brando
n was pulling back the heavy re
d drapes that curtained off one of the private rooms.  There was a spanking bench in the center of it, and Ella balked for a moment.

No way is he bending me over that,
she thought savagely.  Instead, she tried to imagine
him
restrained across it as she beat him.  But the image seemed all wrong, and it didn’t remotely arouse her.  What was it about him?  How did he affect her so deeply?
  He had been after her for months, slowly breaking her down.  Everything had come down to this: their final face-off.  If she won, Brandon would finally leave her alone.  But the thought made her inexplicably sad. 
Perhaps sadder than she was angry at the thought of losing the bet.