[ ON HOLD ]
CAPTIVE X CAPTOR
Twist me, Keep me , Hold me ( A set of trilogy )
Taken to a private island.I never thought this could happen to me. I never imagined one chance meeting on the eve of my eighteenth birthday could change my life so comp...
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THE NEXT THREE MONTHS FLY BY. After that day—after what I think of as the Birthday Incident—my relationship with Jungkook undergoes a noticeable change, becoming more… romantic, for lack of a better word.
It’s a fucked-up romance, I know that. I may be addicted to Jungkook, but I’m not so far gone that I don’t realize how unhealthy this is. I am in love with the man who kidnapped me, the man who is still holding me prisoner. The man who seems to need my love as much as he needs my body.
I don’t know if he loves me back. I don’t even know if he’s capable of that emotion. How can you love someone whose freedom you stole without a second thought? And yet I can’t help feeling that he must care for me, that his obsession with me is not only sexual in nature. It’s there in the way I catch him looking at me sometimes, in the way he tries to anticipate my every need.
He constantly brings me my favorite foods, my favorite books and music. If I so much as mention needing a hand lotion, he buys it for me on his next trip. I am about as pampered as a girl can be. He even takes pride inmy accomplishments, praising my artwork and going so far as to take several paintings with him off the island to hang in his office in Hong Kong.
He also misses me when we’re not together. I know because he tells me so—and because every time he returns, he falls on me like a starving man just getting out of prison. That, more than anything, gives me hope that his feelings for me go beyond that of owner for his possession.
“Do you see other women? Out there, in the real world?” I ask him at breakfast after one night when he takes me three times in a row. The question had been eating at me for months, and I simply can’t contain myself any longer.
My captor is more than gorgeous; he’s got that dangerous, magnetic appeal that probably draws women to him by the dozen. I can easily imagine him sleeping with a different beauty every night —a thought that makes me want to stab something. Even with his sadistic proclivities, I know he would have no trouble finding bed partners; there are probably plenty of women who, like me, derive pleasure from erotic pain.
He smiles at me with dark amusement, not the least bit put off by my obvious display of jealousy. “No, my pet,” he says softly. Reaching over, he takes my hand, stroking the inside of my wrist with his thumb. “Why would I want to fuck someone else when I have you? I haven’t been with another woman since the day we met.”
“You haven’t?” I can’t conceal my shock. Jungkook had been faithful to me this whole time?
He looks at me, his lips curved in a sinfully delicious smile. “No, baby, I have not,” he says—and in that moment, I feel like the happiest woman in the world. I love it when he calls me ‘baby.’ It’s a common endearment, I know, but somehow when Jungkook says it, it sounds different—like he’s caressing me with that word. I much prefer ‘baby’ to being called ‘my pet.’
