Page 35 of Enslaved

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he breathed, as I found a real sex toy gag thingy.

“Open up.”

His nostrils flared, every cut muscle in his body was tense and straining against the knots I tied him in. “I’m going to destroy you for this. Steal your mind, body, and soul and dump it overboard when I’m done.”

I leaned down, eye to eye, swallowed my fear and hoped he couldn’t see how much his words terrified me. “Don’t ever try to find me. Or I’ll report you to the authorities, you…sick fuck. I hate you. I never want to see you ever again.”

He opened his mouth to retort, and I took the opening, shoving the ball gag in.

He bucked and writhed, just like I had hours earlier. I backed away...knowing I had to leave fast and get as far away as I could from this man. I knew he was wholly capable of killing and would no doubt make me pay for besting him. But I couldn’t help but stare at his erection as his bucking caused the sheets to fall away.

My body shook with anger. More at myself than him. He laid naked before me, hands straining to break free, probably to break my neck. But he was a dark demi-god, with his heavily muscled chest and six-pack abs. His dark eyes promised retribution. And despite my tough words—my tummy clenched, and my thighs ached for him to give me more. I wished he could just be normal…even miles from normal would be good enough for me, but he was light years away from even that.

His smell clung to my skin as I dressed, quickly shutting the door. I couldn’t shower here, where he took me over and over again. But I had no money, no phone. I looked everywhere, but he must have hidden my purse.

I searched each room on the upper floor; they were all guest rooms.

“Shit,” I breathed, hanging my head as I turned around with my hand on the knob to the door I just left. I slowly opened it, refusing to meet the eyes of the angry beast breathing hard.

I looked everywhere but at him, finally noticing the door I had missed last night when I was caught up in the drug-induced sex fest we shared. From the corner of my eye, I snuck a peek as I passed by the bed. My feet moved faster. His body was covered in a slick coat of sweat, trickling down his cut abs as he fiercely pulled against the restraints. I knew I had minutes before my dark beast broke the wooden posts right off the bed and captured me.

I was in his inner sanctum.

The door I had opened led me to an antechamber full of dark wood and leather. The smell of his cigar lingered in the air, and my eyes fell to the polished mahogany desk where I saw it perched in a tray, snuffed out but still alive somehow.

The contents of my purse were neatly lined up in a row across the center of his desk.

I shuddered feeling more exposed than when the devil and the doctor pried my wet thighs apart.

Blinking back angry tears I hastily shoved my things back inside my clutch, but then I saw the folder with my picture stapled to the front.

With shaking fingers, I opened the file. One hand flew to my opened mouth, the other rested on my queasy stomach.

He was watching me for months.

He knew every detail of my life down to the number of sexual partners I probably had.

If there was a minuscule part of me that had hoped Christos could be redeemed it was instantly extinguished.

This man was truly mad with no limit to how far he would go to possess me. Candid shot after candid shot of myself slipped through my fingers. There was even a copy of my college records, and records of my parents’ bank accounts and financial records.

I gasped at the figure underline in red ink. They still owed five-hundred-thousand dollars to the bank which holds their mortgage.

A bank that, according to this file, is under a chain of banks owned by Christos’ many holdings.

I may run, but he holds all the cards.

But I know what my parents would want me to do.

At least my father. He’d die before seeing his daughter enslaved by a man like Christos.

My mother on the other hand would encourage me to play the game back and trap a rich man. After all, that’s all she ever wanted me to do. But I have no idea how to even do that.

Running is something I was always good at. When I laced up my track cleats, bent low in the starter’s block, waiting for the pop of the start gun, feeling my chalked hands grip the tips of my shoes—I felt power deep inside myself. The sure knowledge that I was the fastest girl on the track destined to win the race and feel the cool medal land around my heated neck, marking me as the first-place winner.

I felt that same quiet power as I snatched up the papers, opened his drawer and took a stack of euros. I took only what I needed to get away and give myself enough time to formulate a plan as to how far I could run and where.

“What happened to you last night?” Sara whispered as I tried to creep back onboard the Oasis unnoticed.

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