Woman In Chains (21 page)

Saving Rebekah shouldn’t have been this difficult, this taxing. Just a simple in-and-out job. He hadn’t expected her to get to him, break down the defenses that he’d worked so hard and so long to build.

Whenever she looked at him with those hypnotic brown eyes, a fluttery feeling kicked up in his stomach, not to mention how hard his cock got.

When she had told him that she thought he would protect her, it had taken every bit of force for him not to concede. If she expected another Dom like Blade, then he didn’t need to bother with trying to keep her for himself. Even with the incredible sex, Dak knew deep down that she would leave him. He wouldn’t wait for that to happen.

He dialed the number of an old acquaintance of his, one with some connections.

He answered the call on the second ring. “McCreevey.”

“Hey, man.” Dak strolled around the bedroom he’d made into an office. “I know it’s been a while.”

“Ricci. Staying out of trouble?”

Dak could almost see his former SEAL buddy with his shaved head and bright, white smile gleaming against his dark skin.

“You know me,” he replied.

“Yeah, that’s why I asked.”

Dak chuckled. “Listen, remember that time I saved your ass back in Kuwait?”

“Man, I think I’ve repaid you ten times over for that.”

“I’m going for favor eleven. I need to track down the identity of someone.” Dak plopped down in his desk chair and kicked his legs out in front of him.

“Still doing the bounty hunter thing? I thought you got out of that.” McCreevey coughed.

His friend must still be going strong in his two-pack a day cigarette habit.

“I did. No, this is for something else. Got a young woman with amnesia.”

That story kind of rang true. Besides, McCreevey didn’t know about Dak’s BDSM involvement, and it would stay that way.

“Amnesia, huh? So how did you get involved with her?” His friend could smell bullshit from the other side of the country.

“Friend of a friend. You know the deal. Where I live, people call me like I carry a badge.” He’d found Rebekah with Doc the first night she ran away because of that. If Mrs. Jensen hadn’t called him suspecting something suspicious with Doc and some strange girl he’d had with him, Dak would have still been searching for her.

“Must mean that they trust you. You should definitely do the cop thing, or at least, a private investigator. I keep telling you I have room for you at my agency.”

“Thanks for the offer. I’m doing just fine.”

“Making cribs and coat racks?”

“Pays the bills.” Dak didn’t want to talk about his dreams, especially with someone who had gone after his dream and accomplished his goals.

“I don’t get it. You would be such an awesome cop. You just need to balance out your good sense with your temper, and you’ll be—”

Dak interrupted him. “Look, do you still have a way to search the fingerprint database?” He glanced at the glass Rebekah had used during lunch. He had to stop staring at her full bottom lip print around the rim of the glass because he kept imagining those same lips around his cock earlier that day.

“You know I do. What do you have?”

“Full handprint on a glass. You want me to transfer it on some tape or send you the whole glass?”

“I’d like for you to stop handing me this bullshit story and tell your old buddy the truth.” A long pause lingered before McCreevey continued. “But since I probably won’t get anything out of you, I’ll bite. Send me the whole glass.”

“What? You don’t trust my transferring abilities?”

“I don’t even know if you’re going to send me the glass intact. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt as an old friend.”

Dak laughed. “Yeah, right. I’ll get it to you soon.”

“Cool. Just be aware that I may not get anything. If she doesn’t have a record anywhere, or she’s never been bonded for anything, she’ll still be a mystery.”

Regardless if his friend found her prints, Rebekah would remain a mystery. Dak couldn’t be satisfied with that, not while she stayed with him.

“I know. But I have to check out all of the angles.” After getting his friend’s business address, he disconnected the call.

Dak had a dinner to prepare and a lesson to put together. The feather treatment had gone over well. Taking another cue from Moira, he had used the plume to get Rebekah comfortable with her body. Now he needed to goad her further.

Tonight’s lesson would push Rebekah to her limit.

****

At the sound of Dak’s footsteps, Rebekah got down into her position, including having her head down to the floor. She found that whenever he came near her, every inch of her skin tingled. The sensation felt foreign to her since she’d never reacted that way with Master Blade.

Her cell door shrieked open. The sound alone tightened her gut.

“Up.”

She raised her head, but remained on her haunches.

“Are you ready for tonight’s lesson?” He sat a bag on the dresser and returned his attention to her.

“Yes, Sir.” If he did to her tonight what he did with her the night he used the feather, she couldn’t wait.

“Good.” From his bag, he pulled out something on a long, slender, silver chain, and a thin piece of rope. “Tonight will be all about breast play.”

At the idea that he would be concentrating all of his efforts at her breasts, she fell backward. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“What was that?” He approached her.

“I mean, Sir, I don’t think I’m ready for this.” She shook her head.

“You’ll learn in BDSM that the more you trust your Dom or Domme, the better the relationship will go.” He glanced at a corner in the cell. “Strip down and go to the cross.”

She tugged on the hem of her shirt. In the corner stood a thick, dark mahogany cross. At the ends of the T of the cross hung wrist restraints. She’d noticed them before, but hadn’t seen them in action yet.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

She didn’t bother to look at his expression. His rumbling voice said it all. She shook her head and darted to the corner, stripping off her T-shirt and pants in the trek.

At the heavy piece of furniture, she faced it, keeping her back to him. Standing this way would only buy her a few seconds before he would demand that she turn around and face him. She just needed time to steel her nerves.

She licked her dry lips and prayed in her head. If only he knew the anguish Master Blade had put her through. He hadn’t just played with her breasts. He’d tortured her. It had taken every bit of her determination not to crumble under his firm hand. She’d shown him on more than one occasion that she could be tough. With Dak, she couldn’t be sure if she could last through an intense treatment.

She swallowed and stared up. In her mind she prayed that a bolt of lightning would stream down from the sky and split the center of her skull.

“Turn around, Rebekah.”

Dak’s voice sounded so close, she imagined that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, something that made her shiver in her spot. She pivoted, but kept her gaze down to the floor, staring at his large, booted feet.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

As her gaze rose, she let her stare trail up the silver chain that he held. At his hands, she swallowed down her dusty, dry throat again. Her gaze fixed on his hands fisting the chain. When he spoke again, she broke from her trance.

“Take a step back and raise your hands.” He hung the chain over the back of his neck, waiting for her to comply.

She did so with guarded reluctance. He took seconds to secure her to the cross.

“You’re losing your touch, Rebekah.”

She brought her attention to him, staring into his eyes.

“I half-expected you to fight me on this. Are you trusting me more?” He strapped the other wrist to the cross.

“Maybe I’m just afraid of you.”

Every man had a dark side. And every Dom had a sadistic streak. Just because Dak had hands that felt like they possessed her whenever he’d touched her, and he made love like a fiend, she couldn’t let him into her heart. He could do whatever he wanted to her exterior. Her interior, her heart, and soul, she would keep guarded at all times.

Fathers were supposed to love their children, protect their wives and children, put their daughters on pedestals. Not Rebekah’s. Boyfriends weren’t supposed to lie and cheat. Not Rebekah’s. Doms weren’t supposed to be horrible hybrids of the two previous categories. Yet Master Blade fit the role of bad father and horrible boyfriend.

Dak didn’t fit into any category, and yet somehow he’d wormed his way into her heart.

“I don’t believe that you’re afraid of me.” Dak tugged on the restraints and wiggled his index finger in between the cuff and her hand to make sure she had enough room. “If you’re afraid of me, then you would have used your safe word. And if you really felt threatened, then you would have used the self-defense move I taught you, right?”

She blinked and shook her head. “A slave doesn’t need to protect herself against her Dom.”

“Bullsh—uh, baloney. If a Dom or Domme is taking the play too far, and you’ve said the safe word and he still won’t stop, sometimes you need to protect yourself.” Dak loomed over her, staring directly into her eyes. “You can be a submissive and not be vulnerable, understand?” When she didn’t answer, he cocked his head. “Right?”

After a deep breath, she said, “Yes, Master Dak.”

He retreated to his bag of tricks on the other side of the room. As he rifled through the bag, Rebekah felt safe to talk.

“I enjoyed what we did during breakfast.” Recalling the event, she shifted her weight from one side to the other to try and douse the fire igniting at the apex of her thighs. “And lunch was great, too. You tasted good.”

He returned to her carrying rope and something that looked like a remote control for a toy car or something. Then to set the mood, he lit a candle next to her.

He held up the remote, which she now saw had two metal prongs jutting forward. “Have you ever done electrical play before?”

With that inquiry, she tried pulling her wrists through the straps to leave. Electrical play to her meant she would be standing in a small pool of water while Dak would get his jollies shocking her until she passed out. The one time Master Blade threatened to do electrical play on her, he described that scenario.

Her fingers brushed against the panic clips.

“This Sla—uh, I don’t think I can handle electrical play, Sir.” She curved her back so that it now touched the cross.

In a move that made her heart pound—and not out of fear—Dak cupped her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I am
not
Master Blade.”

He must have heard her slip and use the moniker she’d been using with Master Blade. After so many strides forward, she’d reverted to the safety of what she knew, good or bad.

Dak held up the device in front of her face. “This emits static electricity. You may jump at first when it touches you. Overall, I think you’ll like the feeling.”

To prove its safety, he turned on the device, allowing it to snap and pop before her eyes. Then he dragged the device over his forearm. Although he initially flinched just like he’d warned, his face and countenance both seemed to relax.

He removed the device from his arm. “There are two settings. One is a steady static electricity stream.” He held it up to her and initiated it. “The next is a pulsating rhythm.” To prove his point, he clicked a button on the side of it, and the steady buzzing sound quickly turned into an alternating popping sound. “Look at me.”

Harnessing her nerves, she stared into his eyes as he held the controller by her wrist. With the flick of his thumb, he turned it on, setting it on the slow, steady rhythm.

As soon as he touched the prongs to her skin, she yelped. In response, he snaked his hand to the back of her head and pressed his forehead to hers as though trying to absorb any of her discomfort. In this position, he trailed the static generating device to her shoulder and stopped at her clavicle.

“How does it feel?” His nose brushed against hers.

Before answering, she tried corralling her panting breath. Looking into his eyes should have helped, but didn’t. She gripped the handles within her wrist restraints.

“Different,” she finally said. “It’s like you have electricity flowing through your fingers.”

He smiled. “I do. I thought you knew that.” He slipped his hand from behind her head.

He did the same move to her other arm, dragging the electrical device from her bare wrist to her shoulder. Her sensitive flesh forced her to wince and jump at the connection. With each pass, the charge awakened her nerves as though pulling them up to the surface.

He continued coasting the prongs over her arms and chest. When he asked her to tilt her head forward to get the back of her neck, she obliged. Once she got used to the feeling, it warmed her insides. Her legs shook. In order for her to continue standing, she stood with her knees as far back as possible.

So far Dak only moved the gadget over her arms and chest, never venturing down lower. For that, Rebekah felt a wave of relief wash over her. Master Blade hadn’t given a damn about her fears. Then again, she hadn’t given a damn about herself enough to make him stop.

Dak clicked off the machine and took a couple of steps back from her. “I’m going to try something.”

Staring at him, she nodded. He strolled back to his bag. Now she wondered what he could be getting. So far he’d surprised her with the electrical play. She never figured him to be that versed in BDSM. With Dak living out in the country, she assumed his expertise had been limited to caning, spanking, and whipping.

With his back to her, Dak removed his T-shirt and tossed it outside of the cell where it landed on the floor. She admired his wide, smooth back. She did notice a few long scars across his shoulder. Maybe the hard Dom hadn’t always been a hard Dom after all. Perhaps in another life, he served as a submissive or as a slave himself.

She shook her head. As much as it tickled her to imagine him at the receiving end of a good ass whipping, she couldn’t imagine him being anyone’s submissive.