She flushed, thinking of the night before, waking from the nightmare and then what had happened after. Her pussy ached as she thought about his hands and what they could make her feel. How they could help her lose herself.
“Grace, I asked you a question. Would you like to speak with Lainey?”
She shook her head. “No, Master.”
“Why not?”
“Too many questions.”
He nodded with an understanding look on his face, and she thought the matter was dropped. But it wasn’t. He pulled out his phone. “I want you to call her. What’s the number?”
Grace shook her head furiously, tears welling in her eyes. “Please don’t make me call her. I can’t. Please . . . I don’t want to . . .”
“This house is not a democracy. What’s the number?”
She recited the numbers, resenting him as each word passed through her lips. Why was he doing this to her? If he was really good and she wanted space and to be left alone, then why . . .
His eyes narrowed as if he could read the thoughts playing through her mind. “After you get through, we’re going to talk. Here, it’s ringing.” He passed the phone to her.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Lainey?”
“Grace! Is that really you?” Her friend practically shrieked over the phone. “I wasn’t totally sure it was you on the computer. I mean he could have had your account information and logged on for some reason and . . .”
Grace just listened as the babbling on the other end of the phone continued, the tears streaming down her face.
“Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you really okay? I don’t like that you’re there.”
“Just stop. Please. Jesus. I’ve been through hell and here you are babbling on and on. I know it was hard on you, but shit. It was harder on me. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You’ll never know or be able to understand. Talking to you is like talking to a stranger.”
“Then why the fuck did you call?”
“He made me.” She looked up to see Asher leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, not looking happy at all. She closed the phone, unable to take it any longer. His glare on her and Lainey’s voice in her ear. She just wanted to go into a dark, quiet, place. Even Lucas’s dungeon––without him in it––seemed better than this, where there was too much attention and too many demands.
Asher pushed himself off the wall and came toward her. Immediately instinct kicked in and she dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Why did you hang up on her?”
“Please, Master. This slave . . . she can’t . . . she can’t . . .”
So stupid. Why did I do that?
It was just a phone call. It wasn’t one of the hundreds of awful things Lucas had done to her. How could she have been so stupid? And now what? From the anger radiating off him, she just knew his mercy was at an end. How could she allow herself to disappoint him so much in the space of only a day?
He must be regretting buying her. That thought made the bottom of her stomach drop out. He’d been so . . . decent to her. And she was throwing tantrums? It was just too much. Surely he must understand. If he knew what she’d been through, even a little of it, he had to understand. But she’d never done this shit with Lucas. Not once. She was too terrified of him to do anything but beg and obey. Somehow Asher deserved less than Lucas now?
“Don’t move.” He left and she stayed where she was, imagining all the horrible things that could happen next. If it had been Lucas, her thoughts would have been only about what she would have to endure. But with Asher, the biggest thought on her mind was how she’d disappointed him. And how much she wanted to obey. He returned several minutes later.
“Master, I’m sorry. I’m trying. I’m a bad slave, you must be so disappointed. I don’t know why I can’t . . .”
“Shhh.” He sat on the floor beside her and lifted her chin. “Sit up. I want you to eat something.” He gave her a banana and a hard-boiled egg that must have been sitting in the fridge overnight. And some juice.
“I don’t deserve . . . ”
“I take care of what’s mine. Remember? I’m not having you missing meals. You’ll get sick. Eat.” When she started to eat, he got up and crossed the hall to her room. She looked up when he came back to see he had a brush in his hand. Grace couldn’t stop the little shudder, as if he might beat her with it. Instead he sat behind her and brushed her hair while she ate.
“I understand this is all hard for you. Whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to do. I will punish you, and eventually punishments will involve a cane. But not today. Don’t try my patience, Grace. I won’t ever allow myself to be weak with you. If you start to view my mercy as weakness, then we’re going to have a serious problem. And I don’t want to cause you further damage, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Every time he said something like this she just felt worse. Like such an ingrate. If this was real . . . if she could manage not to do anything to sway him away from the way he was being with her, she owed him everything. And she was disobeying him left and right already.
“I know I’m pushing hard with your friend, but I want you to have your friendship back. I insist on it.”
By this time she’d finished her breakfast and he’d stopped brushing. “Go stand in the corner.”
He helped her to her feet and she moved to where he’d pointed, fighting the tremble in her body as she went, wondering what was coming next. She stood, tensed for a few minutes, waiting for . . . something. But whatever she’d thought was coming never arrived.
“Don’t move from that spot. I want you to spend this time thinking. I’ll come get you when it’s time for lunch. We’ll talk further about the rules in this house at that time.”
Eight
Asher descended the stairs, clicking the most recently dialed number on his cell as he went. “Hello?” a guarded voice answered.
“Is this Lainey?”
“Yes, who is this?” But she knew. He could tell from her voice that she knew.
“This is Asher. Grace is with me.”
A long silence. When she spoke, her voice cracked. “Please let her go. She needs to come home where she’ll be safe.”
He sighed. “I need you to listen to me, Lainey. The things she’s been through . . . you don’t just
recover
from them. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
There was more silence, except for the sound of soft crying. Perhaps he was justifying keeping what he wanted, what he’d paid so much money to acquire.
No. He was right. Even the way she’d reacted to calling Lainey, like he was somehow punishing her by trying to get her to speak to someone who loved her. She couldn’t live in that world. Not anymore. But he could give her a small piece of it.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“Why would I do anything to help you?” Her voice was like acid.
“It’s for Grace. I’m not the one who hurt her.”
“But you’re the one keeping her now.”
He sighed. “I’m not going to debate this with you. You can think I’m the bad guy all you want. There is nothing you can do to alter the course of her life. What you
can
do is help her by doing what I say. I want her to be able to maintain a friendship, so I need you to agree to not bring up anything about her current or past situation on the island. It’s too upsetting for her. If she chooses to talk about it, let her come to you. Can you do that for me?”
“Fine. But I don’t like you.”
He chuckled. “I can’t imagine what you must feel about Lucas, then. And Lainey?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
He stared at the phone, unsure why it mattered so much to him that Grace be able to connect with this friend. It made her so uncomfortable.
Even so, he couldn’t let her erase it all. He wanted to give her every chance possible to heal as much as she could. Rekindling a close friendship seemed like a step in that direction.
A few hours later he returned to the bedroom to find Grace standing naked in the corner, just as he’d left her. His cock hardened at the sight of her so delicate and vulnerable. He’d made sure to keep his footfalls silent when he’d come back, to see if she was where she was supposed to be, not trying to cheat or squirm out of the punishment. She hadn’t moved an inch.
“Kitten?”
She looked up, her eyes red, her lower lip trembling. It made him want to shove her against the wall and fuck her right then. It was so wrong that her tears turned him on.
“Yes, Master?”
“Are you going to continue to show me attitude?”
“No, Master.”
He knew it wasn’t the punishment that drove her. It wasn’t the idea of standing for hours in a corner like some recalcitrant child. She was ashamed she’d displeased him. It genuinely upset her. When she looked at him, he could see how much she wanted to give to him and how afraid she still was that he might be toying with her. He was surprised she was already as willing as she was to please and obey, but she’d latched onto him as her savior, as her god. And every second standing in her presence made him want to step more firmly into that role.
It obviously weighed on her, her two minor bits of disobedience. With Darcy, he wouldn’t have worked up to punishment for such minor issues. It wouldn’t have been worth the hassle. Right or wrong, though, he couldn’t stand to let Grace get away with even the smallest infraction. He wanted everything from her. Every tiny corner in her mind and in her heart he wanted as his own personal real estate. He wanted not the slightest bit of hesitance when he issued a command. He wanted her to be willing, grateful, subservient putty in his hands. And he was quickly running out of motivation to feel guilt for that.
He handed her the cell phone. “Call Lainey again.”
A flicker of something passed over her face. Not defiance. Resignation. Good. She was already resolving to be his good girl.
She took the phone from him and dialed. The call started tentatively, but within a few moments they were edging around the circumstances of Grace’s life to talk about other things, catching up on what Lainey had been up to. He was thankful the friend was listening to him and not letting her personal feelings get in the way of Grace’s own good.
He made the bed, smiling when she lost herself for a moment and gushed about her room and the balcony and the view. Already she sounded somewhat like a person. For all Lucas had done to her, he hadn’t left her an empty shell yet. She was still in there somewhere, with wants and desires and dreams that had been cast aside in favor of survival.
Several minutes later she shyly handed the phone to him, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her shoulder. “Thank you, Master.”
He slipped the cell into his pocket and pulled her flush against him, not giving her time to react or process. Then his fingers were inside her. He let out a satisfied chuckle at how wet she was for him, how desperately her body sought completion with his, even if her mind was still quite terrified. His mouth moved to the shell of her ear.
“I plan to be inside you,
very
soon,” he practically growled at her.
Her answering whimper drew his eyes to hers. He could see the conflicting emotions flitting over her face, the edges of lust trying to overtake the fear, the confusion and shame over feeling anything at being treated this way. Too many negative emotions appeared to overwhelm her, until she seemed to crawl inside herself and go numb.
“Grace, stay right here with me. You aren’t with him. I’m not him.”
The use of her name called her back. She was still afraid, obviously. No reason she shouldn’t be. He was moving the timetable of his plans for her at a warp speed that made even him dizzy. He knew it was unfair, wrong. He knew how broken and damaged she was, how traumatized.
She did something to him, something almost hypnotic. There were no words in the English language, or that of the island, to express the mad possession he felt when he was near her. The need to mark. And take. And rut like animals until they were both sweaty and sated.
He wanted her to beg him to never remove his hands from her body. And though such an outcome seemed improbable given her history, some part of him still hoped for that ending. Asher licked the side of her throat and sucked on her pulse point. It was beating wildly against his mouth like a bird trapped in a small cage, fluttering to escape.
His fingers dove back inside her at a harder and heavier pace. In his head he could hear tribal drums as if they’d been taken with a sexual possession they were both helpless to stop. In reality, she was the only helpless one in this equation, but it only made his cock harder, only made him grip her tighter.
“Grace, Grace, Grace.” He chanted the word, soft and low, like a prayer in her ear, and with every repetition of her name another muscle group seemed to relax until her body was loose and receptive, waiting for him to come fill her. “Yes, that’s it, kitten. You know what I want from you. Whose cunt is this?”
“Yours, Master.” Her hips were bucking against him now, fucking his fingers, giving as much as he gave. It was clear she’d moved beyond cognitive thought and all the reasons she should feel shame for still wanting something so carnal. The only thing that seemed to exist was her body and what it needed from him in this moment.
“I will never use your kink against you. I will never deny you an orgasm. I don’t want you to ever lose touch with your own body and pleasure again. Come for me.”
She tensed as if she wasn’t sure she could just come on demand like that.
“Grace . . . relax. Your body knows what it wants. Just let it obey me.” As his fingers moved inside her, his thumb stroking over her clit, he felt her let go and come apart in his hands.
***
Grace shuddered against him as once again her body’s reactions spun out of control. The pleasure seemed to go on for a quiet eternity, punctuated only by the ragged sound of her own breath. What was this man doing to her?
How can I feel this way after Lucas? What’s
wrong
with me?
The sound of a zipper pulled her out of her thoughts. He’d moved away to get his clothes off. And then he was standing there, too beautiful to be real. Her mouth went dry. Sure, Lucas had been attractive. Muscle-group to muscle-group, it would have been a hard contest. Until she moved up to faces. Whereas Lucas had black eyes like pits you could starve and die in, Asher’s were like intense blue flame, eyes that softened when they looked at her in a way Lucas’s never had, no matter how hard she’d tried to please him.