Page 25 of His Captive

I nod an acceptance, and Buddy helps me to stand from the mattress, then leads me up the stairs and straight to the toilet. This time, he allows me to enter alone. Progress? Trust? Or a false sense of security? We will see.

When I’m done he directs me toward the dining room again, opening the door for me to step inside. There are two spaces set on either end of the table and no sign of Ethan, which makes my chest heavy with disappointment that doesn’t belong there.

Buddy moves me toward my seat, where a covered plate already sits waiting for me. Then smiling, he spins on his heels and walks out. Shutting the door and leaving me alone in the room.

This could be my chance to run, or a test to see if I would.

I sit and think for a moment, my heart pounding with adrenaline, adrenaline that I could put to use if I do chose to run. While my head weighs everything up, in the end I decide that it’s far too easy.

Ethan wants me to run so he can punish me, and I won’t fall into his trap.

I decide not to eat without him either, as much as I don’t fancy eating cold eggs. I don’t wish to be punished for that either… at least I don’t think I do.

I don’t know how long I wait, but eventually, I hear the door squeak open again. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. His footsteps, sharp and loud against the hardwood floor are as commanding as his voice, demanding my heart beat to the same rhythm.

My peripheral vision catches him as he passes me, walking the length of the table and sitting at the other end.

He lowers his head, a gesture that I assume permits me to start eating, and I immediately take the lid off my plate, pick up my knife and fork, and delve into the fluffy eggs.

There’s a cold silence that hangs in the room as we eat, and he waits until we’ve both finished, before he decides to break it.

“More?” His low voice echoes through the silence.

I shake my head, I’m full. Mrs. Pritchard’s portions were much larger than I’m used to. I never eat much at home, all my money seems to go to rent for my apartment and paying Sorrento.

Ethan stands, moving towards me until he’s at my side. I twist my neck to look up at him, detesting myself for finding him so brutally beautiful.

“Come with me.” His voice is calm, controlled, and has me completely at its mercy. So I take the hand that he offers me, my chair scraping loudly against the floor as I stand, and I follow him out to the hall. I panic slightly when he leads me toward the staircase.

Is this it? Is he taking me to his room? He is actually going to take my virginity just like he threatened he would. The thought terrifies me and yet thrills me at the same time.

I follow Ethan up the stairs into a huge bedroom, Light pours in from an attached balcony, and it smells fresh and airy, unlike the basement. He disappears into what I assume is an adjoining bathroom, and I take the chance to look around. There’s a dark oak four poster bed sitting against the back wall, made up with crisp white linen. And my bare feet sink into the soft carpet beneath them.

Ethan reappears in the doorway moments later, the welcoming sound of running water coming from behind him. He flicks his chin, a summons for me to go to him, and my feet begin to move obediently. Stepping to the side, he allows me to pass, granting me access to a bathroom that is easily the size of my whole apartment.

I head toward the sound of water, it comes from behind a single glass panel that runs almost the entire length of the back wall, the door sized gap at the end of it allowing steam to escape and gradually fill the room.

I look back at Ethan and his head tilts in the direction of the shower before he settles himself into a chair in the corner of the room. Part of me wants to refuse, to spare myself the humiliation of showering in front of him. The other part... The grubby, in desperate need of freshness part, is prepared to sell their soul to get under the warm stream of water.

My fingers fumble as they open the buttons on my shirt. Then slowly reach behind me to unzip the back of my skirt, I push it from my hips and let it fall to the floor, stepping my feet out of the creased circle it makes on the black slate tiles before shifting the shirt off my shoulders.

His eyes remain fixed, his expression unchanged as I unhook my bra, remove my panties and step in to shower. The water pelts against my skin, leaving a warm prickle everywhere it touches. I soak my hair, wondering if I’ll get in trouble for using the products that are placed on the glass shelf.

I chance it anyway, reaching forward and pumping some of the caramel colored shower cream into my hand, then rubbing it into a lather against my skin.

“Turn around,” his voice commands, over the loud jets. I do as he requests, the front of my body now on display to him, just the safety of the glass to protect me. Satisfied his head nods for me to continue, I drag my slippery fingers over my neck, across my breasts and under my arms. Zigzagging them over my stomach as I reach lower. I cup my foam filled hand between my legs, and lazily slide my finger between my pussy lips. It reminds me of yesterday, how my fingers had followed his command and the way my body had reacted to it.

Ethan must notice that I linger there too long, his glare deepening, and his head shaking me a warning.

I quickly pull my hand away, take a step backward and let the water rain over me, the heated sprinkles bringing me a much-needed comfort.

He’s obviously decided I’ve had enough of that comfort when he stands up. I stupidly wonder for a second if might get in with me, the thought of seeing him out of his suit pulling the imaginary cord in my stomach tight as he strides toward me.

He disappoints me when he reaches his arm out and grabs a white fluffy robe from a hook on the wall. He holds it open for me, his signal that my time in the shower has come to an end, and I twist the water off before I make my way out to him. Stepping around the glass, I slide my arm into the robe, and his mouth almost touches at my neck as he pulls it on to my shoulders. I hear the deepest groan as he steps around me, and leaves for the bedroom.

Securing the soft flannel gown around me with the belt, I follow him, finding him looking out at the view from the balcony doors.

I’m unsure what he wants me to do next, so I stand at the foot of the bed and I wait. My chest fluttering with anxiety, while my stomach twists with desperation.

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