Read Becoming His Slave Online
Authors: Talon P. S.,Ayla Stephan
Tags: #MF, #slave, #mm, #Caning, #Master, #BDSM, #D/S
“Don’t!” She snapped, still keeping her eyes out the window. “Please don’t.” Again, only softer, revealing her sorrow. She didn’t want to hear it really—that he was drunk and aroused and she was an easy target at the moment. It was a mistake, she knew that. She wasn’t his type really, just fun to toy with. And that hurt just as much as it would have hurt had she let him fill his needs right there with the whole world to watch her in her shame. She bit her lips to muffle the sob that threatened as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Back at the hotel Katianna locked herself in her room. When Trenton tried to offer further apologies through the door, he only got the sound of her shower turning on to block him out.
Trenton was beside himself, but god when the others returned he was going to put Diesel on his back for setting this hell in motion.
Trenton, not figuring Katianna was going to be coming out of her room anytime tonight, went down stairs to the lounge. They didn’t have a pool, but they did have an all hours bar and better tequila.
He ordered four fingers of El Condeazul Blanco on the rocks, grabbed a handful of limes, the small bottle of Tabasco and found a table in the corner where he could watch the front lobby of the hotel and proceeded to work up a sweat, attempting to put in more alcohol then his blood saturation could handle at this point. But he had foolishly let his desires for Katianna off the leash and she had run from him, so this was his punishment.
He was going to kill Diesel for this.
His cell buzzed in his pocket, he thought to ignore it for a moment, but knew better than that. He’d already made one huge mistake. He fished it from his jeans and flipped it open.
“Where the hell are you?”
Diesel’s voice came over the waves.
“Hotel lounge.”
“You two take a cab?”
“Yeah.” Trenton’s answers were coming off short on friendliness, but not on temper.
“I’ll find ya.”
And the phone clicked dead, which meant Diesel had picked up on his tone and knew something wasn’t right.
Trenton sat back sipping slowly on his drink. He created a puddle of hot sauce on the table next to his glass, tapped his finger in it then brought it to his lips to lick at it and chewed on another slice of lime, allowing his emotions to brew. Some small part of him warned him not to. He had no one but himself to blame, but hell—that was the thing about tequila—have enough of it and you could drown out all those little voice that knew better.
About a half hour after he got off the phone with Trenton, Diesel was back at the hotel and found his brother in the lounge where he said he’d be, nursing a wounded drunk and feeling a little overly self righteous. A clear warning he was in a mood to fight.
“
Sooo
—what happened?” Diesel questioned Trenton, not counting on getting a coherent answer or one of anything other than a reflection of the mood the man was in.
Trenton bottomed his glass then dropped it to the table, “
Oh
something about taking my brother’s advice and not running away from what I want the most.”
“Run her over did ya?” Diesel gave no remorse or sympathy, it would be waisted at a point and time such as this one. “Come on—it's late.” He waved him to follow and surprisingly Trenton got up doing just so and followed him down the hall towards the elevators.
“This is your doing—” Trenton bit out his accusations as they reached the stainless steel doors.
“Hey I said stop running away from her. I didn’t say anything about pouncing on her.” He pushed the button with the
up
arrow
.
“What the hell makes you think that’s what happened?”
“Fuck, Trenton you’re a lion with a hard on right now!”
“Then you shouldn’t have brought her to the club.”
The doors slid open and Diesel stepped in. “And you shouldn’t drink when you’re caught in such a conundrum.”
“Hey Deez?”
Diesel turned to look. He should have known better but he looked anyways and before he could make the first block Trenton’s fist came flying at him.
On the 16
th
floor the doors to the elevator slid open and Diesel was hauling a presently out-cold Trenton up over his shoulders so he could carry him out. As Diesel made his way down the hall to their suite he rubbed at his jaw and lightly touched the cheek bone of his right eye. Good thing Trenton was drunk or he’d likely of taken more than just a few punches before he could bring Trenton down. But damned if those first few punches didn’t hurt like a son of a bitch.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
SUNDAY
Trenton tried several times to get Katianna to come out of her room as the day progressed—hell he couldn’t even get her to come to the door or respond. He’d come close to wanting to break the door down a few times, only the watchful eyes of everyone else kept him under wraps. Especially Amelia’s disapproving glances that he’d gone and done something terribly wrong.
Lucky for him, Amelia was equally preoccupied, spending most of her day on the phone or on the computer talking with various members of the board. The summit wouldn’t start until tomorrow, but in truth it had already begun.
Trenton knocked as he passed by Katianna’s room again, “Kat? We’ll be leaving for dinner soon. You gonna come out so you can eat?”
Silence.
Trenton went to the living area and dropped down on the sofa in frustration. He’d really fucked up. He couldn’t reach her.
“Try calling her.” Diesel made the suggestion as he came in to join him.
“I did already.”
“Try texting?”
Trenton grabbed his phone from the table and text her. Surprised that within a few minutes he actually got a response.
—
I’m writing
—
stop bothering me.
—
—
Are you going to come out to eat?
—
—
No.
—
—
Do you want me to bring anything back?
—
—
Soda.
—
He thought for a long moment then finally typed in the word —
Sorry
— and sent it, but nothing came back.
Trenton tossed the phone on the coffee table with reckless care and scrubbed over his face with both hands before pushing them back to rake through his hair and let out an expelled push of air. Leaving his hands to rest behind his head.
Moments later Amelia came from her room ready for dinner, “Kat just sent me a text asking that the two of you stop interrupting her.”
“She’s been locked away all day.” Trenton retorted.
“She’s writing—that’s how she writes.” She glanced at him. She could see he wasn’t particularly happy that he didn’t have control of that one. She was no fool she knew that something must have happened last night especially since both he and Diesel were now sporting matching black eyes and bruised lips. But whatever it was it had Katianna writing like a fiend and she’d just finished reading a few pages Kat emailed her to prove she was. The literature was so intensely erotic and dark, it had her wetter then she’d ever been in some time.
“She’s not writing—” Trenton wasn’t buying that as an excuse to shut him out.
“She is— I just read over a few pages she sent in my email. She’s knocked out over thirty pages today. That’s a lot, even for her, but its heady stuff and I for one want to see where it goes—so for the rest of the day I don’t want either one of you knocking on her door again.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
MONDAY
The following morning there was still no signs that Katianna had any intentions of coming out, but it came as no surprise. Trenton was very aware she had been up very late still writing. He could make out the light typing of her fingers on the computer keys and the dim glow seen through the bottom of her door.
But when Trenton got the call from the hotel security desk that a bomb threat had been called in, the rules changed. “Deez! Get everyone out! Now!”
“What about her?”
“Break the fucking door down if you have to!” He ordered as he strapped his gun holster on and saddled the Berretta M92 in its place.
“What’s happened?” Payton came out of his room when he heard the commotion.
“Someone has called in a bomb threat.” He turned giving Diesel a worried look, “Get them out. I have to meet up with security downstairs.”
Trenton was on the phone calling the driver up, as he headed out the door.
Downstairs Trenton talked with the growing number of hotel security, local Police and the French Terrorist/Bomb Squad. The call had just come in minutes ago demanding the death to all Quinneth Global Management personnel. To which nine of the said board members were staying at that hotel. This was the one time when the Quinneth Company should not have booked everyone together. It only made for a more accessible target for those who wanted the Summit to end. Better to have everyone spread out.
Then
who do you hit? Actually it narrowed the threat down to just one person—Amelia Quinneth. She was the Company Vice President of Quinneth Global Management and President of the Board, the final decision at the meeting would be on her.
The French Bomb Squad swept through the hotel with the dogs, but so far no actual threats had been turned up. Trenton was about to call up to Diesel when he heard Katianna’s screams spilling out from the direction of the elevators.
They came into view, Payton and Ramos leading the way with Amelia between them. Diesel close behind with Katianna thrown over his shoulder still in her nightgown. Trenton hadn’t expected her to resist in such a way, but then the words
my computer
became clear and he finally understood. But that was no excuse for her to act this way. Not when they were dealing with a serious issue here that put her life in danger.
“Katianna!” He called out as he crossed the lobby to intercept, waving Diesel to put her on her feet and she instantly swatted at him to back away from her and bounded for the elevator, but Diesel swept her back in his arms and held her back.
“That’s enough!” Trenton yelled taking hold of Katianna’s arm, spinning her around to face him.
“I need to get my computer!” She tried to argue back at him.
“Are you insane? There’s a bomb in the hotel!” Trenton had her with both hands now. “We didn’t make this up. This is a real threat and I need you to stop this right now.” His voice locking down on her.
Katianna fell silent in his grip. She had been startled out of bed when the door to her room came crashing off its hinges and Diesel snatched her, while Payton grabbed a few items of clothing from her room and the two dragged her out without so much as a word as to why.
“I need you to stay with Diesel and whatever he tells you to do, you do it. No questions and no arguments. Do you understand me?” He commanded, pushing her into Diesel’s arms again.
Diesel’s fingers laced around her arms and were quickly pulling her to the front exit. Her feet skipping to keep up with him. She glanced back over her shoulders realizing Trenton wasn’t coming with them, “Wait! Trenton’s not coming.” She whirled around to look at Diesel who didn’t stop, tugging at her harder to keep moving. “Why isn’t he coming with us?” Panic threatening her.
“Keep moving Kat. Now is not a time for me to be explaining his job.” They reached the door and Diesel paused, glancing out into the crowd that had gathered in the street. He spotted the limo across the way along with Payton and Ramos that stood vigilantly at its doors. That meant Amelia had reached the car safely.
Diesel pulled the Desert Eagle nine mill gun from the back of his waist belt, his fingers flexed around it tightly as he held it pointed up next to his head readied for any surprises, eyes scanning the crowd once more. Often a bomb threat was merely a means to flush out the target. Katianna wasn’t the target, but she was among the Quinneth party, which made her a target by proxy and he wasn’t going to take any chances.
“Do you see the Limo, Kat?”
Katianna’s head spun about following his direction to the car outside. “Yes.”
“When I say
go
you go. We go together and you stay close—okay?”
She glanced back again to Trenton who was watching to see she left the building safely, “Yes.”
“Good girl.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder as if ready to scoop her up if he needed to. His gun arm pushing the door open and he pulled her out, “Let’s go.”
Trenton watched from the back of the lobby as Diesel led Katianna out. The fear of an actual bomb was starting to die down, but at least she was out of the building just in case.
“We’re ready to make a sweep on the 16
th
floor now.” One of the French officers informed him.
Trenton nodded, “I’ll come with you.”
Trenton followed the two officers along with the German Sheppard’s trained to sniff out most chemicals used for making or igniting explosives. It was slow going one section at a time. At least when they cleared this floor he would know all was good, since they were on the top floor.
Trenton used his key to open their suite when they reached it.
“Is there any reason to believe the Quinneth Suite has been compromised?” One of the officers was questioning him.
“No, I just need to get something out of it. I’ll just be a moment.”
Trenton came back out with Katianna’s computer bag strapped over a shoulder, “Let’s go.” And he followed the two officers back down the hall towards the stairwell. “Is the building cleared yet?’
“No
M’sieur
. They’re still combing through the storage areas and the utilities down in the basement.”
“Trenton!” He turned to see Rashawn Matisse, a member of the Board coming down the hall towards him.
“Rashawn you need to leave the building, it hasn’t been cleared yet.”
“I know but my car, it hasn’t shown up.”
“Stay with me.”
Rashawn, an attractive man who was close to his own age stepped close. Rashawn was use to following the orders of his bodyguards, so commands from Trenton weren’t any different.