Ultimatum (3 page)

Gage fondled them, weighed them in his hands, and his gaze zeroed in on my hardened peaks. “Perfect, just the right size.” He flicked his thumbs back and forth. I gasped for breath, vacillated between shame and arousal as every touch zinged to my core. Unable to take anymore, I tried to jerk away. He pinched each nipple and twisted, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain.
 

“Look at me, Kayla.” He increased the pinch. I lifted my lashes, silently begged him to stop.

“You’ve got spirit, and you’re stubborn. The more you resist, the more it turns me on.” He released me and bent to his knees again. I couldn’t stop trembling as he cut the skirt and panties from my body.
 

“You’re so gorgeous strung up like that, helpless and open. Naked.” His gaze journeyed over me, finally arrived at the juncture between my thighs. “Red indeed.” He delved a finger inside. I shot to the very tips of my toes.
 

“God, baby, you’re so tight. How is that possible after giving birth?” His warm hand smoothed across my abdomen, and he traced the wounds left behind from my four years of marital hell. “What happened here?” The question was a rhetorical one, since I couldn’t answer him verbally. “They look like knife wounds.” He thrust another finger inside, gliding in and out, never breaking eye contact. I was helpless to do anything but accept his invasion. My eyes drifted shut.
 

“Don’t.” Another hard pinch of my nipple reminded me of his power. “I want you to watch me.” With a twitch of a smile, Gage circled my clit with precision. My belly clenched, and I throbbed deep within as liquid heat ignited between my legs. “You’re not allowed to hide your shame from me.” He closed his mouth over a nipple, teased with his tongue, lightly nipped.
 

I squirmed as the fire in my body spread and intensified. God, it’d been so long. Too long. It was the only explanation for my reaction.
 

“You don’t want to want me, but you do.” He stroked me languidly, caressing in a sensual rhythm that drove me out of my mind. “I’ve been watching you, Kayla, noticing those shy glances you aim my way when you think no one’s looking. If I didn’t think this would work between us, I would’ve had you thrown in jail.”

My muscles tightened, and I shamefully moved against his hand. I hadn’t expected this, for him to make me want to come. A low moan escaped, and I almost did.
 

He pulled away abruptly. “You’re not allowed to orgasm without my explicit permission. Like clothing, sexual gratification is a gift you must earn.” He grabbed my chin and brought his face close to mine. “Take this time to think about your behavior.”
 

Gage stepped away and smiled, as if we were conversing about something as mundane as the weather. His eyes wandered to my breasts, and my nipples begged for his touch, his mouth. “The room is under surveillance, so trust I’ll keep an eye on you for safety reasons. I’m not a careless Master, but you must know where you stand with me. Disobedience will always earn you punishment. You’ll stand like that for an hour.”

An hour? I let out a pitiful cry.
 

He crossed his arms. “If you can’t handle it, snap your fingers now.”
 

Using my only way out wasn’t an option, and we both knew it. Eve’s pale face swam in my vision. I’d do anything for her. Anything. I shook my head, and by doing so gave him the okay. His heavy steps pounded the stairs, growing fainter the further he climbed. He was leaving! Oh, God . . . an hour.
 

Fear enveloped me like a stifling blanket; an hour loomed ahead like eternity.
 

4. M
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Time had no measure. Seconds, minutes . . . they all bled into each other, until the only thing that mattered was the rampant ache in my muscles, the dimming of the room, the goose bumps forming on my skin as the chill set in. After a while I became numb. Listless. Found a place outside myself where I could tolerate existing. It was a familiar place, one I hadn’t visited in a long time. I sagged toward the floor a little more with each minute, heels refusing to touch ground, wrists taking the burden of my weight.

And then I felt the warmth of his hands, grazing my ankles as he removed the bar from between my legs, circling my wrists and lifting . . . until they dropped like noodles at my sides. In a dizzying whirl, I slumped toward the floor. He engulfed me in his arms.
 

“Open your eyes, Kayla.” His breath whisked across my face, tinted with brandy.
 

I stared into his sapphire gaze . . . and felt nothing.
 

He held me up with one hand and removed the gag with the other. “Have you learned your lesson?”
 

I worked my aching jaw, and only then did I realize I had drool trailing down my chin.
 

“Answer me. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes.”

“I’m giving you one chance, because I know your punishment wasn’t easy. Show me the respect I’m owed.”

My apathetic state diminished; swift anger welled and overflowed. I hated him. Truly despised him. “Go to hell, Gage.”

He swept me up, threw me over his shoulder, and stalked to the bench.
 

“What are you doing?” I cried.

Ignoring my question, he dropped me to my feet. I grabbed onto the bench to keep from falling, which was a bad idea, because my actions only helped him position me. Gage pressed onto my back and wedged my knees apart. He strapped my hands, knees, and ankles in place, then adjusted the bench until my butt tilted up for easy access.
 

The snap of leather sent ice through my blood. “What is that?” I cranked my neck around to see.
 

“A whip.”

“Don’t you dare hit me with that!” I couldn’t breathe. Everything flooded back, the beatings, the bruises and cuts. The fractured bones.
 

“I told you what I expect from you, yet you continue to disobey me. If you can’t take your punishment, say your word and end it.” He punctuated his words with a swift strike to my ass.
 

I jerked and cried out, and the whip whistled through the air again, a split second warning before he struck me a second time.
 

Crack!

He hit me again and again, never giving me a moment to catch my breath, never allowing the sting to alleviate before he escalated the pain with another strike. I sobbed and pleaded with every blow, and eventually I found that place again—the place I’d lived in for the duration of my marriage.

Stop, stop, stop, stop . . .

Finally he did.
 

Tears drenched my face, and I couldn’t see him, though the sound of his breath, coming fast and hard, told me he wasn’t far. I ticked off the seconds in my mind, and stopped counting when his legs came into view.
 

“Who am I, Kayla?”

I lifted my head. He still had a death grip on the whip; his knuckles had gone white around the handle. “You’re my Master.”

“That’s right. Don’t you forget it.”
 

He put the whip away, then freed me from the restraints. “Don’t move yet.” He disappeared, only to reappear a few seconds later with a bottle of massage oil. He dripped some onto my back and went to work in rubbing the tension from my body. His fingers glided over my back and down my legs. I felt myself sinking, losing myself to the allure of my cloudy mind. Confusion niggled on the outskirts, and I vaguely wondered why he’d beat me, only to massage away some of the pain afterward.
 

“Who am I?” His voice drifted above, rich and warm like hot chocolate. His hands chased the chills away from my skin.

“My Master,” I mumbled.
 

He gripped my hand. “You can get up.” Gage helped me to my feet, steadied me when I stumbled. “If you behave, I won’t restrain you.” He pointed to the bed. “Stand at the end and bend over the mattress.”
 

The fog cleared, unveiling fear in its wake. He reached for the button of his slacks.
 

“Please . . . Master . . .” I faltered. Would he be rough? Would it be quick?

“Do it now, Kayla.”

My legs shook as I moved clumsily across the room. He pressed a hand against my back, and my breasts and stomach slid along the satiny comforter.
 

“Spread your legs.”
 

On the verge of tears, I obeyed and opened for him. Chills traveled the length of my body; I couldn’t stop shaking. I jumped when he grabbed my hips.
 

“Arms straight out in front of you.” He massaged my sore ass. “Good, just like that. I want you to remain in this position, do you understand?”

I rested my cheek on the mattress as a tear escaped. “Yes, Master,” my voice cracked, and I heard the distinctive slide of a zipper, the tear of a foil packet. For several seconds I waited, barely breathing, muscles tense in preparation for his intrusion.
 

He glided his fingers between my thighs. Keeping perfectly still, I bit down on my lower lip. Unwelcome warmth flared again, and I prayed he’d stop caressing and just get it over with already.

“Please, Master, just do it.”

“Oh, no, I’m not about to make this easy for you.” He probed me with his fingers. “Do you know how many times I had to get myself off in my office after watching you prance around in your skirts?” He groaned. “You’re getting wet, baby.”
 

I arched my spine and bit back a moan.

“God, you’re so responsive. I’ve wanted you for such a long time, wet and on the brink, begging for release.” He plunged in, filling me with his pulsating heat, slowly stretching until I felt nothing but him.
 

I dug my fingernails into the bedding and closed my eyes in shame.

“If you come, I’ll punish you.” His breath fanned across my back. “Don’t disobey me.”
 

Yet the bastard took his time. I locked my jaw to keep quiet, trembled from the effort of holding back as he pumped in and out. I hated my body for betraying me.
 

It’s only biology.
 

I held on to that thought as he pushed deeper. “You feel so good,” he groaned. He increased his thrusts, exploiting a rhythm designed to send me spiraling out of control.
 

I fisted the comforter, unwittingly let out a long moan. “Master . . .”

“Don’t come, Kayla.”

I gritted my teeth and did the only thing I could think of to cool the fire. I thought of Rick. Replayed the day I escaped with Eve. I’d been two weeks postpartum when he’d beaten me in a drunken rage. Hours later, when I thought he’d finally passed out for the night, I’d grabbed Eve and hobbled toward the door. He’d come out of nowhere with the knife. Eve had been thrown into the corner, and I thanked God every day she hadn’t been seriously hurt, though a broken arm had been serious enough.
 

After a while Gage tensed and shuddered, and I knew it was over. For now.
 

He withdrew and disposed of the condom “You’ve got impressive restraint. Not many women can hold back so well, not that they come here under your circumstances. I suspect that might have more to do with it. You feel forced.”

My emotions were too close to the surface. On the heels of remembering in vivid detail how I’d escaped with my life—how Eve’s future had depended on it—my rage exploded. I whirled around and pushed him. “That’s because you did force me! Master,” I bit out the last word as if it were poison. “You might be able to elicit a reaction from my body, but you’ll never get the one you’re truly after. You’ll never have my eager participation.” I took a step forward, emboldened by the stunned expression on his face. “It was easy to control myself. All I had to do was think of my ex-husband and how he nearly stabbed me to death.”

Gage pressed his hand over my mouth. “I’d watch your tone. Don’t villainize me—you’re the one who stole ten grand. You signed the contract.”

I pushed his hand away. “What you’re doing is wrong, Gage. Punish me if you wish. Do your worst. You couldn’t possibly hurt me more than he did.” I turned my back on him, mostly because I figured it would piss him off.
 

I wasn’t prepared for his laughter. “I do love a challenge. Sleep well, Kayla.”
 

I hugged myself, and as his feet thumped up the stairs, I wanted to curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep. He shut the door, and the sound echoed through the basement, through the empty chamber of my heart.
 

5. I
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The following morning Gage ordered me into the bathtub. He sat on the edge, instructing me on how he expected me to bathe daily. The regimen he wanted me to follow would take a nice chunk out of my mornings, but I wasn’t about to negotiate with him, not so long as the hard glint remained in his eyes. The new day had dawned with clarity; I’d gone too far the previous night. Now I had nothing to do but wait until he decided to dish out my punishment. My ass still stung from the one he’d given the night before—a constant reminder to call him “Master.”
 

“I’m going to prepare breakfast. After you finish here, I expect you to wait on your knees until I return.”

I gulped. “Why, Master?” I stood on the bathmat, tightly clutching the towel around my body. It didn’t matter that he’d already seen me, had touched my most private places. I’d never be comfortable parading around naked in front of him.