THE CAPTURE: The Marriage Diaries, Volume 6 (Invitation To Eden) (4 page)

Through it all, she managed to maintain a bit of sass. “You’re much too sure of yourself and your charms,” she said brazenly.

“Aye, I am.” He flashed her a cocky, confident grin as he grabbed her arm and guided her down the wooden steps. “Let’s go, wench. I have plans for you that don’t include exhibitionism. At least not yet,” he added shamelessly.

H
er dashing, scoundrel of a pirate led her through a part of Eden that was lush and beautiful, and seemingly deserted, until they reached a cottage built out of large, smooth stones, with moss on the roof and vines climbing along the sides. He opened the door and gently pushed her inside, then followed behind her. As he untied the rope from the hands still secured behind her back, she glanced around the small but spacious place, which was decorated in rich shades of burgundy and gold.

A huge four-poster bed dominated the main room, and off to the side was a rustic, hand-carved table with two chairs and a wood burning stove to give off heat, if needed. An open door led to a more modern looking bathroom, and there was another door, painted bright red, that remained closed.

As soon as her hands were freed, she rubbed at her wrists, while Black Heart moved toward the massive bed and removed his belt and sword, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“Get undressed and get on the bed, slave,” he demanded, his tone brusque.

Clearly, he was anxious to get down to business and expected her to obey his command, but she wasn’t about to make any of this easy on him. He tossed the embroidered vest onto a chair next to the bed, and when he turned away to pull the loose white shirt over his head, it gave her a few precious moments to execute her very spontaneous plan to escape.

Whirling around, she flung the door open and ran, following a dirt path that led her further and deeper into the forest, her long hair flying out behind her. She heard him swear, heard his booted footsteps on the wooden floor of the cottage, then the sound of him running after her.

Her pulse leapt in her throat, the thrill of the chase mingling with the trepidation of what he’d do to her once he caught her . . . which she knew he would. He was bigger, stronger, and faster, and Black Heart didn’t seem like a man who tolerated disobedience without due punishment.

The heavy weight of her skirt tangling around her legs and the high heels on her boots hindered her speed and agility. Her heart raced wildly in her chest as the sound of his approach grew louder, and she let out a yelp of pain as his hand closed around her loose hair, jerking her backward and throwing her off balance.

She stumbled and started to fall, and he wrapped a strong arm around her waist as he tackled her to a patch of soft moss. He took the brunt of the fall so that she fell on top of him, but he quickly reversed their positions, rolling them both so that she was sprawled beneath him.

In a quick, lithe move, he straddled her hips with his powerful thighs, but her arms were free and she used them to try and shove at his chest while bucking her hips in hopes of dismounting him.

Yeah, right
, as if that was even possible. The man was solid muscle, and his thighs were like vice clamps, pinning her in place despite her struggles.

His gray eyes caught fire, their tussle clearly arousing him. Much too effortlessly he caught her wrists and held them bound in his hands. Sitting atop her, he looked formidable and intimidating, and devastatingly gorgeous. His dark hair was disheveled, the soft sable strands falling rakishly across his forehead. His broad chest was bare, his skin tan and taut. The muscles in his arms and across his abdomen flexed with the barest movement. Those tight black breeches encased his toned, sinewy thighs, and outlined the hard, impressive length of his cock.

She was breathing hard, and his gaze settled on her heaving chest and the unbound breasts rising and falling beneath her white blouse before lifting to meet her eyes. He arched a dark brow, his expression arrogant and mocking. “Did you really think you could escape me?”

“Did you think I would submit to you so easily?” she retorted impudently. “I am no man’s slave!”

He laughed, the low, rumbling sound vibrating from his body, to hers, making her nipples peak tight and hard. “You’re bought and paid for, wench. You belong to me.”

She thrashed beneath him and tried to yank her hands from his unrelenting grasp, all to no avail. “I belong to no man!”

He smirked, so confident in his superior position as he pinned her arms above her head and leaned over her, causing his stiff erection to rub oh-so-deliciously against her mound. Even through their clothing she could feel him, so thick and long and hard, and her traitorous body responded with a rush of wet heat between her legs.

As if he could scent her arousal, his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened to slate. “I guess I’ll just have to prove to you that I
am
your Master.”

She knew his words weren’t a mere threat to make her obey, they were a promise, and she couldn’t suppress the secret thrill that coursed through her, even as she dared to defy him with a willful toss of her head. “Do you intend to claim me, right here and now?”

“Oh, no,” he murmured, his silky smooth voice like a caress to her senses. “I’m definitely tempted, but tonight you’re going to learn a very important lesson. That you are
mine
. You will be whatever I want you to be. You will do whatever I ask you to, or suffer the consequences. And starting right now, I’m going to show you exactly how I deal with a slave’s insubordination.”

With a stunning grace and agility, he quickly rose to his booted feet, tugging on her wrists as he stood so that she was pulled up, too. Before she could gain her bearings, he hefted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and locked his arm around the back of her legs, while her upper body hung down his back, her loose hair nearly reaching the mossy ground.

“You’re a barbarian!” she said, trying to kick her feet, which merely bounced off his taut stomach.

“Aye, you have no idea how barbaric I’m about to get, wench.” He slid a hand up her skirt, his hot palm traveling all the way up to her bare ass. He pinched her cheek and she yelped in surprise, and his satisfied chuckle reached her ears.

She wasn’t even close to being small and petite, but he carried her without effort or strain, the muscles across his shoulders and down his bare back flexing with each step he took. She was dizzy from dangling upside down, but at least she had a view of his gorgeous, tight ass encased in his breeches, and damned if her hands didn’t itch to smack his firm, sinewy buttocks, but resisted the impulse since she knew his own retribution would be swift and painful since he had the upper hand.

He finally reached the cottage and once they were inside he locked the door this time. He didn’t put her down, but instead walked to that mysterious red door, opened it, and strode into the quarters.

The interior was cool and dim, and considering her upside-down position, it was difficult to really see what was in the room. He finally set her on her feet, and since her head was spinning and her equilibrium was momentarily skewed, he definitely had the advantage and didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that fact. He secured a soft leather cuff around each of her wrists, then pulled on a nearby chain that stretched her arms straight above her head, leaving her defenseless and completely vulnerable to whatever he decided to do to her.

She blinked, and her eyes finally adjusted to the low lighting, revealing her surroundings, which looked like a BDSM dungeon. There were no windows, just sconces on the walls to provide the only illumination in the chamber, glinting off the long chains and restraints hanging from the walls and ceiling. There were padded benches, tables with straps, and a wooden St. Andrew’s cross positioned in the far corner—furniture designed for pleasure, or pain, depending on the user’s intent.

Her wicked pirate turned around and opened a nearby cabinet displaying a wide range of crops, whips, canes, and other disciplinary devices. After a long moment of contemplation that heightened the anticipation swirling inside of her, he made his selection and returned to her suspended form. He stood in front of her, booted feet braced apart and a hedonistic smile on his lips as he threaded the long, individual tassels of a flogger through his fingers, caressing the strands like a lover.

She’d swallowed hard and met his searing gaze. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to teach you a lesson,” he drawled, and set the whip on a table close to him, along with two small items that gleamed silver and red. “I believe you called me barbaric, and I certainly don’t want to disappoint you.”

He reached down and retrieved a small jewel-handled knife from his boot, then positioned the sharp blade against the ties securing the front of her corset and expertly cut them away. She sucked in a startled breath as the bustier fell to the floor, and gasped again when he made a slice in her shirt, then savagely ripped it apart with his bare hands so that it hung from both of her shoulders and left her entire upper body naked to his gaze. He stripped her skirt down her legs and tossed it aside, baring the rest of her, but left her boots intact.

He straightened once again, slowly sliding the dull edge of the knife up her inner thigh, along her belly, around the curve of one breast, and scraped it over a rigid nipple. Her entire body jolted at the twinge of pain that shot through her, and a low moan escaped her throat.

“
No
,” she said, and thrashed for freedom, which did no good.

“Oh,
Yes
,” he murmured insolently, his expression filled with depraved lust. “You were bought for my pleasure, and I’m going to show you that I can fuck you any way I want, and any time I desire. And maybe, if you’re a good slave and do as you’re told, there might be pleasure in it for you, too. Eventually, once you learn to submit to me.”

She lifted her chin, displaying her pride, which was all she had left at the moment. “It will
never
happen.”

“Oh, mark my words, it most definitely
will
happen, and I’ll enjoy making you scream, and beg. Repeatedly.”

She pursed her lips at his vanity. “You’re an arrogant libertine!”

He chuckled at her insult. “Aye, I suppose I am.”

Setting the knife aside, he filled his palms with her breasts, squeezing them together and flicking a finger over her taut nipples. “Such gorgeous, lush tits,” he murmured, and bent his head, pulling one breast into his mouth, sucking hard and deep. His tongue swirled around the areola, and his teeth tugged relentlessly on the aching peak.

Her sex clenched in response, and that fast, she was close to screaming and begging. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and swallowed a moan, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cries of pleasure.

He performed the same treatment on her other breast—licking, sucking, and biting—while his hands fondled and his fingers twisted her nipples until they were so hard and sensitive they hurt-so-good. Her breathing was harsh, her lips parted, the word
please
desperate to escape, yet somehow she managed to remain quiet.

“Aye, you
are
a stubborn one,” he said, amusement softening his tone as he
finally
released her breasts and lifted his head to look at her. He reached for those red and silver things he’d put on the table. “Let’s see if I can get a reaction out of you with these.”

These
were nipple clamps with a large, teardrop ruby for added pull once they were secured. He clipped the silver vices on each of her stiff nipples, the weight of the gemstone escalating the sensitivity in her nipples and creating an intensifying sensation she felt all the way down to her pussy. The slightest movement caused the rubies to sway, and the pressure blossomed into a titillating ache she could barely keep contained.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, stepping back so he could rake his gaze down the length of her—from the arms stretched above her head, the hair spilling over her shoulders, to her bejeweled breasts, all the way down to her throbbing sex.

He picked up the flogger once again, stroking the strips of suede. “Are you ready for your punishment, for ignoring my order to strip and get on the bed, and running instead? Or would you rather beg for mercy?”

The word
mercy
caught her attention, a safe word that had been established months ago that her pirate was giving her the option to use now. “I will not beg,” she told him, and watched his dark eyes flash with male gratification.

“Very well.” He moved to stand behind her, lightly stroking his fingers down the slope of her spine and over her buttocks, creating goose bumps all over her skin. “You will receive twenty lashes for your disobedience. I am your Master, and you
will
learn to obey me.”

His touch fell away and was replaced by the first snap of thin suede strips connecting against her exposed flesh. She gasped and arched at the bite of pain, and with each lash on her backside, her ass, her thighs, the sting became a stroke, and every affliction became a yearning for more.