Page 31 of His Captive Pet

“I have to call work. They need to know I’m not coming in for my shift.”

He wiped his hand over her cheek, freeing the tendrils of hair trapped in the wet trails of her face. “I’ll handle it.”

Blake unrestrained her and sat on the edge of the bed while she curled into a ball, still facing away from him.

“I’m trying to protect you, Aubree. You don’t understand these guys. They are relentless when they find a rat, and they think it’s you. They will not stop until they find you, and they will be willing to hurt everything you’ve ever loved in order to get to you. Staying out of contact with everyone back home is the safest thing, for everyone.” He placed a hand on her hip, and her muscles tensed beneath his touch.

“I was trying to save those dogs, and all you’ve done is punish me for it.” She shoved his hand off her and scooted further away from him.

“At no point did you concern yourself with the fact those men were Pecadores? If they had caught you, they would have had no problem, no fucking hesitation to either put a bullet in your head or pass you around before putting a bullet in your head.”

She slid her hands between her knees and curled her back, probably trying to block him out.

After too many minutes went by without a word out of her, or even a simple glance back at him, he pushed off the bed.

She could stew in her own irritation. He had his own shit to straighten out.

Like how to keep everyone back home safe without putting her in harm’s way.

Chapter Thirteen

Aubree woke sometime after the sun had disappeared behind the trees. Some rays still crept through the cracks in the tree line, but she knew at best it was late afternoon.

“What a waste,” she muttered to herself and pushed off the bed. Her legs cramped and her shoulders tightened as she moved around the room. Being bound for so damn long had really put her limbs to the test. She stretched her arms over her head and worked out the tension with a few moves she remembered from the few yoga classes she’d attended.

Once she was somewhat limber again, she found the bag of clothes Blake had left for her in the closet. Choosing a black T-shirt and Capris, she cautiously opened the bedroom door, only mildly surprised to find it unlocked.

No sounds. He must have gone outside, or if her luck had returned, up to the main house. She couldn’t quite get her brain wrapped around him.

Blake had been sweet at the bar, a little rough around the edges, gruffer than his brother, but she wouldn’t have thought what she had seen in the hunting cabin or his bedroom was his thing. Yet, he’d had no qualms about trussing her up. And the wax. She’d heard of wax play before, but what he’d done wasn’t playtime.

And she’d begged for him to make her come.

Her cheeks heated again at the memory. What the hell had happened to her? He’d practically torn off her skin, and she’d been wet for him? Not just wet, but craved his touch, and when his fingers entered her, she thought she’d die. When his tongue touched her, her body completely gave into what he’d done to her. The pain mixed so evenly into the pleasure he dished out, she didn’t know which sensation she had begged him for.

Aubree stepped into the living room, promising herself to forget all about what happened earlier. Just because he could dominate her body did not mean he could do the same in any other area.

Samuel lay coiled up in his usual ball beneath a tree just outside the cabin. Aubree looked around but still didn’t see any sign of Blake, so she headed over to her dog.

The brown pit raised his head at her approach, his tail thumping against the ground.

“Such a lazy dog,” she chided with a grin. “Won’t even get up to greet me.” She rustled his ears and plopped down in the shade next to him, leaning back against the thick tree trunk.

Samuel stood up, walked in a circle a few times, and sank back down almost exactly where he’d been, only his head now rested in her lap.

She let out a long breath. Fucked-up situation aside, the grounds were breathtaking. Somewhere off in the distance she heard leather snap and a loud cry, but it only made her smile. Whatever this place was, it definitely catered to the BDSM community in a way she had never found in Chicago.

“You’re up.” Blake walked up to her from behind the cabin. His jeans were too tight. She fixated on the way they hugged his muscular thighs more than she could approve of for a man, hoping it would distract her from the delicious way his T-shirt hugged his upper body.

“Very astute of you,” she said, patting Samuel on the head. At least he didn’t jump up to go wag his tail at Blake. Maybe his infatuation with him was starting to wane.

He grunted, a half snort mixed with a chuckle, and squatted down in front of her and Samuel. She eyed him while he petted Samuel in silence.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like someone ripped off my pubic hair.” The retort came easily, but she regretted it when his eyes flashed to meet hers.

“That was your call, sweetheart. I’m happy to give you all the orgasms you want in any way you want them. If you choose to get the bad stuff first, that’s on you.”

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