Page 13 of Enraptured

I’d cry if I could. But I’ve done that already. There’s nothing left but an abyss where all my pain is. I’ve been hollowed out into a shell. All the good parts of me he took, leaving me in ruin.

He claims I still have more to give.

But I don’t.

There’s nothing left of me to give but the pulse of my beating heart and my last breath. Part of me wonders if he’ll take those too.

The sound of old wood creaking outside my door alerts me. Someone’s opening the door.

“Hello, love.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your love,” I spit back. The smell of his sweet cigar wafts towards me.

I shudder.

I fear this man but crave the things he does to me. I scream, jerking forward trying to kick him, knowing what’s coming… punishment.

“I’ve warned you what would happen if you ran.” He bends down, I feel his eyes and breath on me.

To this day I still don’t understand, how me—ordinary Jessie from San Diego, caught the eye of Christos. One of the most powerful men in Europe, the world no doubt. He’s cultured, educated, rich, handsome as the devil and much to my shame—a man whose tastes I’m addicted to as much as I’m repulsed by.

“You missed me.”

“You wish,” I flinch, trying to jerk my chin out of his grasp.

His fingers stroke my cheek as they caress my face before delving through my thick hair. Then he slides off the bed, opening the thick curtains that blocked the light.

Blinking, my eyes adjust. Where the hell am I? From where I am perched high upon a stately oversized king bed, all I see through the windows on the other side of the room are miles of fields with trees dappled among them. Leaves half-green, half-bold color barely clings to their stems.

“My parents will look for me.”

“No. No they won’t. You left your phone behind, remember? You’ve sent them dozens of texts and pics of the Oasis. See, they think your services are bought and paid for, sweeting. Now, it’s time to get to work… I’ve missed you,” he admits jerking my chin, forcing me to meet his lustful gaze.

I can’t answer. I’ve missed him too. He’s heaven and hell, together in his six-foot-three muscular frame.

But as much as my body rejoices at the feel of his hands on me. I know the first chance I get, I’m going to run again and this time he won’t find me. My face heats, “It wasn’t a dream was it?”

“No,agápe.My touch brought you back…you knew me. I just about killed thatmalakafor dosing your sedatives so high.

“I hate you. Don’t think I’ll ever forget how cruel you were…,” I break off refusing to allow him to see my tears. “I won’t ever sleep with you again. Not after you… and …her.”

“That’s okay, little one. There’re many ways I will take my pleasure from you. But don’t doubt me—” He holds my chin firmly, forcing me to meet his black eyes, “you will wholly belong to me again.”

I wait for the indignant anger to come. But it never did. Instead, numbness spread over me. Blanketing me like a fine cloud.

There was no use fighting him when he was like this—insane. Without reason. Or remorse.

His fingers trail down my cheek before he suddenly leaves the room as quickly as he came. I’m confused why he left me unchained or tethered to the bed. I wait for a few minutes, thinking maybe this was some sort of test. My eyes scan the ceiling; the book cases on the walls for the blinking red record light of a camera.

I didn’t know he was watching me last time.

But I should have.

When we were out on the ocean, battling to survive the storm, I bit his shoulder as he made me come, my eyes flew wide when I saw the screen next to my palm. It was my cell. He was watching me then… and I knew he probably was the whole time I was on Oasis. It angered me, how smug he must’ve been as he watched me touch myself…whisper his name as my own hands wrought climax after climax from my needy body.

I tiptoe to the door, hands hesitating, suspended a breath away from the handle. I hold my breath as it opens easily.

The hallway is empty.

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