Black Wings: A Dark Romance Page 7

  No, I wasn’t going mad. I was just playing along with my captors until I saw my opportunity to escape, and when that moment did come, I wouldn’t care who I took down with me.

  Hunger finally got the better of me, and I wandered over to the tray which Emma had left on the vanity. I selected a croissant, and bit into the flaky, still warm pastry.

  Emma looked as though she was about to say something. But she was cut off by a sudden sharp, rap on the door. We both looked at each other curiously, and Emma shrugged.

  I was just about to call out to the person to “come in” when the door was pushed open. Esther stood in the doorway. She spoke curtly.

  “The master has commanded you to be ready in one hour. You will adopt the position you have been shown, and you will dress in your choice of outfit from the walk-in closet.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she stepped back out of the room, and left.

  “Friendly.” I murmured as I pushed the rest of the croissant into my mouth.

  Emma stood, ready to leave. “Don’t trust Esther, Daisy. She chooses to be here. Not like me.”

  I studied her for a moment. I’d changed my opinion of Emma a little today. I still thought she was as mad as a hatter, mainly due to her determination that she was a witch. But I strongly suspected she was telling me the truth, and she was as much a prisoner here as I was.

  I nodded at her. “Okay, I won’t. See you later, Emma.”

  She smiled at me, and it was a genuine smile which lit up her elfin features. “See you later,” she replied; before heading out of the door.

  I did consider refusing to get showered, and dressed. But I knew he’d be angry; meaning I would probably end up being whipped again, or worse. It was in my best interest to keep on playing along. At least until my escape opportunity presented itself. The more compliant I seemed to be, the more likely Adonis would be to let his guard down around me.

  I wandered into the sumptuous bathroom, and stripped out of my tiny outfit. I stepped into the shower, and I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed the heat of the powerful jets of water against my skin. There was an extensive range of luxury shower products on the glass shelves. Choosing one, I washed myself in a thick lather of vanilla and shea butter.

  Once I had gotten out the shower, and toweled myself dry. I took a deep breath; before I wandered naked into the closet to choose from my pathetic array of outfits.

  In the end I chose a bright teal-colored basque, and g-string. It was the outfit which covered the most of my body—the only reason I chose it. There was a pair of teal high-heels, in my size—everything in this closet was in my size—but I chose to ignore those, preferring my bare feet.

  All the better to run from the wolf.

  I looked to the clock on the wall. I had around four minutes to spare before he would be here. Something told me that he would arrive punctually. I sat on the golden chair, and picked up a hair band from the vanity; using it to knot my still damp, long copper locks back into a ponytail.

  Drumming my fingertips on the surface of the vanity, I contemplated his command that I wait for him on the floor. Every single instinct in my body screamed against the indignity of kneeling for this brute. My childhood, and my teenaged years had both been very hard. Now that I was a grown woman, I was thankful for the experiences that I had believed would break me at the time.

  I had become hard—someone who wouldn’t let another person tell me what to do, or bully me. I always stood up for myself, and for anyone weaker who was being bullied.

  My nature was the devil on my right-hand shoulder—whispering to me that I knelt for no one, and I sure as hell wouldn’t do it for my kidnapper.

  The other half of me, which I had learned to rely on throughout my life, was my instinct. You didn’t learn to survive under extreme circumstances without it.

  My instinct was currently played by the angel on my left-hand shoulder. Telling me that submission was preferable to a beating, which could result in an injury that may prevent me from attempting escape, if the opportunity arose.

  I had just made my mind up, when the door clicked. I had less than two seconds to throw myself to my knees, and adopt the nadu position.

  I breathed out deeply, as I realized I’d made it just in time. I had saved myself a world of trouble, and pain.

  He stood in the doorway, and although my eyes were cast down to the floor as he had requested, I could feel his blue gaze burning into me. I was almost certain he knew about the dilemma I was in moments before he entered the room.

  “Good girl.” His voice was low, and rough. Making my core tighten in unintended response.

  I waited in silence. I was trying so damn hard to follow his rules, and stay under the radar. He walked across the room, and my lowered eyes caught sight of his stone-colored boots, as they passed me by.

  I worked out by the sound of his footfalls that he had gone into the walk-in closet, and I clenched my jaw in frustration.

  What did I get wrong?

  When he came back out, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of me. He had the teal heels, which I had rejected earlier, hooked over his fingers. He placed them on the soft carpet before me.

  “When you dress for me, you will always wear heels. I’ll forgive your indiscretion this time, as I didn’t make that rule clear to you, slave.”

  I waited, unsure if he wanted me to remain kneeling, or stand up and put the heels on.

  “On your feet, and put your shoes on,” he barked, making me jump.

  It was clear he’d come back here with a point to prove after yesterday. I scrambled quickly to my feet; before slipping them into the towering heels. Even with the additional inches, I was still so much shorter than Adonis.

  “Now follow me. You won’t be leashed today. It’s time you learned to follow instructions, and to defer to your master.”

  He made for the door, and I started to follow him. My only defiance was to glare at his back as I walked.

  One day soon I will kill you, you bastard.

  Chapter Twelve

  We went straight back to the room from the day before. When Adonis reached the keypad on the wall he turned to me, and fired me a simple instruction.

  “Turn.”

  I turned my back to him, and listened to the beeps as he punched in the code. Arguing just wasn’t worth it.

  When I heard the door click open, I turned back to face him, and he nodded that I should enter the room. I stepped in, and my eyes immediately sought out the cross on which he had hurt me yesterday. I shuddered.

  Closing the door behind us, Adonis crossed the room to the wall of sex toys; before beckoning me to him. I crossed the room slowly toward him. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and it almost choked me to admit it.

  When I was standing in front of him, he looked my body up and down. It was a slow, sensual dragging of his gaze across my body. He started with my eyes, winding his way down my neck, and across my breasts. His gaze was so intense that I could almost feel his hands against my skin.

  He looked over my flat stomach; before letting his eyes linger on the tiny strip of blue fabric, which just about covered my modesty. Before he trailed his way down my legs, to my toes—encased in their teal footwear.

  Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around my chin. “You’re beautiful, eighty-eight.”

  I pouted silently, in an attempt to convince him that he didn’t have any influence on my body at all. I was pretty sure that I failed, since I couldn’t even convince myself.

  He didn’t seem to mind my silence. Gently he pushed against my chin until I was facing the wall of toys. He moved with a silent grace, until he was standing closely behind me, with his stomach pressed against my back. I could feel the tickle of his breath against my ear as he whispered.

  “Which shall we start with, slave?” The resonance of his voice ran through me like a jolt of electricity, and I bit my lip to stifle a gasp.

  He had kept a hold of my chi
n, and I was sure he felt my unconscious response to his closeness as I slowly ran my tongue across my lower lip. I still didn’t speak, but my core burned with need.

  He shifted slightly so that he was pressed even harder against me. He brought his free hand slowly up my body from my hip; until he was cupping my right breast. I couldn’t help the moan that fought its way from my throat.

  “You want it more than you can admit, eighty-eight. Stop trying to deny your nature. I’d say that out of all of the women I’ve trained, you are by far the most responsive. I’d say you were born for this.”

  Every nerve in my body screamed at me to turn around, and press my lips against his. I wanted to kiss him, to taste him. I wanted to sink to the floor in his arms, and howl in pleasure as he slid the hard cock I could feel pressed against my lower back, inside me.

  “I don’t want it, and I don’t want you,” I managed to grind out past my clenched teeth.

  “Such lies.” His tongue flicked out to tickle my ear lobe as he spoke, eliciting another unwelcome moan from me.

  Fuck. I am such a whore.

  Suddenly, without warning, he let go of me, and stepped back. I was left feeling so desolate that I almost whimpered. I turned around, and almost tried to follow his retreat.

  With a twitch of his mouth—that reminded me of a crocodile eyeing its food—he gave me a look which told me that he knew exactly what I had been about to do. He looked away from my face, and studied his wall of torture implements with narrowed eyes. Eventually he chose a jeweled butt plug, unhooking it from the wall; before turning to face me with a glint in his eye.

  I felt my face go pale as he pointed to the empty table against the opposite wall. “Go to it. Bend over it, and open your legs wide, my little slave.”

  I shook my head ferociously from side to side, and his mouth twitched in mirth again. He gestured toward the wooden “X” casually. His meaning was clear; I either let him plug my ass, or I would be whipped again.

  “This time your insubordination will earn you double the lashes, slave.”

  Six fucking lashes? No chance.

  Knowing I wouldn’t cope with another six stripes on my ass, I bowed my head, and crossed the room to the table. I pressed the palms of each hand down onto the wood, and spread my ankles apart so that my ass was extended out toward my tormentor.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, and my traitorous body quivered in delight.

  He took his time in crossing the room, and I knew he was purposely making me wait. He wanted me to anticipate what was going to happen next. When he did reach me, he leaned around my body with the plug, and pressed the cold metal against my lips.

  “Open,” he instructed.

  I did as I was told, and he pushed the plug into my mouth.

  “Hold it there. Your mouth will warm it a little for you. I told you, I’m not a monster, eighty-eight.”

  My trembling body did not agree with him.

  I felt his fingers hook over the strings of my underwear, and I was just wondering how he planned to take them down past my wide open ankles, when I felt a snap as he used a knife to cut the garment away.

  Knowing that a psycho kidnapper was standing behind me with a knife, was too much. I bucked, and tried to bolt away from him, but he had other ideas. He caught me around the waist, and pushed me down against the table. I almost broke a tooth as my mouth jarred against the butt plug. He used his body weight against my back to easily pin me down, as he growled into my ear.

  “I’m not going to cut you, slave. You’re far too valuable, and I’m not a psychopath. But, if you try that shit again, I will whip you so hard you scream. You need to learn to do as you’re fucking told.”

  I stayed where I was, with my face pressed against the cool, black wood of the table. I could barely breathe.

  “Do you understand me?” he rasped.

  I managed a nod, and he lifted his crushing weight from me. I sucked in air around the plug in my mouth, and pushed myself back up onto my hands.

  He wasted no time in getting back to where we left off. His fingers cupped my bared ass cheeks; before he lifted one hand and brought it down with a smack against the skin. He didn’t do it so hard that it hurt too much, and the intensity of the sting made my core clench.

  I heard a rustling sound, and I turned my head back to see what he was doing. He was kneeling down behind me so that his head was level with my ass.

  “Turn around, slave,” he warned.

  I turned back, and within an instant I felt his warm tongue flick across the puckered entrance of my ass. I shuddered, and bowed my head to the table as pleasure coursed through me. He repeated the licking again, and again. I couldn’t help myself, and I writhed against his tongue.

  He took my movement as encouragement, and pushed his tongue against the pucker; until it opened a little, allowing him to moisten me inside, ready for what came next.

  “Give me the plug, slave.”

  I let the plug drop into my hand, and reached underneath my body to pass it to him. He took it, and pressed it against my ass.

  “Remember, the more you relax, the easier this goes in.”

  I took a deep breath as he started to push the metal inside me. It slipped easily past the opening, which was wet from his mouth. When it got deeper inside I could feel it stretching me wider. He took his time, easing it in slowly; until with a strange pop I felt the whole plug settle inside my ass.

  “Stand up,” he commanded.

  I stood up, and turned to face him.

  “Plugs will be used to prepare you for anal sex. A lot of the house’s patrons like to fuck women in the ass. You should get used to the feel of it.”

  I said nothing. I was gripped with the same cold fear that I felt every time he talked about what would happen to me when I was sent to the brothel.

  “Nadu,” he spoke in a clipped voice.

  I fell obligingly to my knees, and waited for what came next. Ignoring my obedience, he turned his back on me, and crossed the room to the wall. He kept his back turned to me as he spoke.

  “I know you hate me for kidnapping you, and for doing the things that I’m doing to you, eighty-eight. But, you have to understand that some of the men who have you will treat you very badly.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He shrugged, but didn’t turn around. “Because they like it. Not all incubi are like me. Some of them don’t want to use their ability to charm women. Some want you to fight, and kick, and scream.”

  As he spoke, my eye landed on the knife he had used to cut my g-string off. He had obviously dropped it when he pinned me down, and it had landed on the floor, partially hidden underneath the table.

  Carelessness. Again.

  I continued to watch him, as he started to select some items off of the wall. I began shifting myself slowly closer to the knife. When he spoke again, I jumped and became motionless.

  “As much as I know you’ll hate me for it, I need to prepare you mentally, and physically for your new life, slave.”

  When he didn’t turn around, I carried on shifting until the knife was nestled behind my ass. I panicked—questioning whether trying to kill him was a rash move. But, logic said that if he was dead, I could try and escape without being hunted. The call of freedom was too strong to ignore.

  He turned back around, carrying some of his choices over toward me. I breathed out a sigh of relief. Glad that I had managed to get the knife into my hand before he came back.

  He reached me, and crouched down in front of me, in the same way he had when I was locked in the dungeon. In his hand was a chain that attached to two wicked looking clamps—one at either end of the links. He held the chain up in front of my face for me to see.

  “Once these are attached, you won’t want to run, slave. All I have to do is catch hold of the chain, and wait for you to reach full tension.”

  I could almost feel the burn of the clamps tearing into in my nipples, as he spoke. If I was going to use the knife, I had t
o do it now. If he caught hold of that chain while we were struggling, he’d have me subdued in a second.

  While he began to twist the widening mechanism for the clamps, I started to slowly trail my right hand back toward the knife. He would only be occupied with the nipple clamps for a short time, so my window of opportunity was short.

  As soon as my fingers found the cold metal, I grabbed hold of it, and brought my arm around so the knife was pointed toward Adonis’ chest. Without hesitation I lunged forward, and aimed the knife at his heart.

  My momentum was my undoing. It knocked him off balance, making him land awkwardly on his back; way out of reach of the blade. I froze temporarily.

  What should I do now?

  Knowing that he was probably going to kill me if he got the chance, I dropped forward to land on top of him, and tried for his heart again with the knife. My green eyes met his cold, blue stare, and my soul trembled at the fury it saw within him.

  Without a word he blocked the knife with one muscled arm, and used his other hand to hit the side of my face so hard I saw stars. I toppled off him sideways, and the knife clattered from my hand.

  It was game over. He was going to kill me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The blow to my head left me feeling disorientated, and weak. Adonis shifted himself until he was on top of me, pinning my arms and legs with his own.

  “Please, don’t?” I begged.

  His eyes grew even darker, as he glared down at me.

  “Please don’t what? That’s the second time you’ve tried to stab me in two days, you fucking whore. I should take you apart.”

  Anger bubbled up inside me.

  “Then maybe you should stop leaving knives lying around, asshole,” I yelled.

  He released my wrist with one hand; instead wrapping it around my throat. I could feel the power emanating from him, and I knew he could crush my windpipe without even trying.

  “You don’t fucking get it, do you? It was a test. Both times, it was a test. I need to know when you are deprogrammed from killing the person you call master. I will keep testing you, slave; until I’ve worked that fucking attitude out of you completely.”