Caught In The Shadow [Jenlisa]

Chapter Two -

Lisa

I led my beautiful captive toward the center of the room. Her steps were hesitant, frightened, as if she expected me to push her off a precipice. I urged her forward only to have her push back against me. That's fine with me. She could push back against me all night. Offering no resistance, I let her collide against me, barely subduing a laugh when she let out a gasp and sprang forward like a cat avoiding water. Or in this case, my hard-on.

I reached out to gently grasp her arms, she stilled, obviously too frightened to move forward or back. Lust rolled through me. I finally had her—here—between my fingers, under my control. I closed my/ eyes, heady for a moment.

She had arrived over three hours ago, slung over the shoulder of that waste of a human being, Jay. She was bruised, dirty, and reeking of bile and sweat, but that hadn't been the worst of it. One of them, and she didn't have to wonder at whom, had struck her across the face. Heat crawled down my spine the moment I saw the blood on her lip, and the purpling bruise swelling her left eye and cheek. I resisted the urge to kill that motherfucker on the spot.

At least she had managed to kick his face. I would have paid to see that.

The sound of soft but deep breaths returned my thoughts to the present. The desire that had settled warmly in my stomach sunk heavily to my balls and engorged my cock painfully. I trailed my fingers across the girl's shoulders while shifting to her left side. I wanted a better look at her. Her pink lips were parted just slightly, whispers of breath rushing through them.

I wanted nothing more than to remove her blindfold, to stare into those bewildering eyes of hers, and kiss her until she melted beneath me – but they were a long way from there.

Like a falcon, she needed the dark to understand who her master was. She would learn to trust me, to rely upon me, to anticipate what I wanted from her. And like any master worth her salt, I would reward her for her obedience. I would be exceedingly firm, but I would also be as fair as I could be. I had not chosen the instrument of my revenge at random. I had chosen a beautiful submissive. And what was a submissive if not adaptable –if not a survivor?

I leaned in close, inhaling the light scent of her skin beneath the lavender. "Would you like some ice for your face?" I asked. She tensed sharply at the sound of my voice; soft and low.

For a moment, it was comical. She shifted around from foot to foot, nervous, blind, and incapable of choosing a direction. Her hand floated up to her face and I knew she itched to remove the blindfold. She made a sound of disapproval and instantly her curious fingers went back to clutching her robe.

Feeling what passed for pity, sought to guide her once again toward the bed. She gasped the moment my fingers curled around the lapel of her robe grazing hers in the process. "Easy pet, there's something behind you and I'd hate for you to get hurt again."

"Don't call me pet." Came the shaky, yet firm command.

I went absolutely still. No one talked to me like that – least of all, blindfolded, nearly naked women. Instantly, I pulled her forward until her soft cheek pressed roughly against my own. I growled, "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want - pet. You belong to me. Do you understand?"

Against my cheek I felt her infinitesimal nod, and against my ear, heard her small squeak of capitulation.

"Good. Now, Pet," I urged her back a few inches, "answer my question. Ice for your face, or not?"

"Y-y-yes," she answered in a tremulous voice. That was better, but not yet settled.

"Y-y-yes?" I mocked. I pressed into her assuredly, dominating her with my size. "Do you know how to say please?"