Page 46 of His Captive Pet

Worse, she started to find the ease of slipping beneath his authority comforting. The fight she held about taking care of the Pecadores on her own wasn’t getting stronger with the passing of time.

“Here we go.” He walked her up to a large maple tree.

She looked up at him. He couldn’t possibly expect her to do that.

“No, inside.” She turned, trying to crawl away, but he didn’t budge, and the leash eventually ran out of give and yanked back on her.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

“You said you had to go; either you go here or you go in your cage. Your call.” He sounded bored. Like he really didn’t care what she did.

She crawled back toward the tree, feeling the tears start to build, and wishing she had strength enough left to keep them from falling. Managing to get around the tree, she was able to at least put space between them.

Squatting beside the tree, she leaned back against the trunk, using the pain of the bark against her bare skin to help cover the embarrassment of what was about to happen. What she had no real choice in, because he didn’t give her the alternative of giving him the information he wanted.

Something had changed during the hours they were separated. His mission seemed different.

Her face heated. Her entire body seemed covered in a fire, but eventually the stream started, and she found some relief. Birds chirped in the distance; she focused on the high-pitched sounds, forcing the reality of what she was doing from her mind.

When she finished, Blake walked around the tree until he stood in front of her again. Did he really need to witness her humiliation? “Good girl. Let’s go for a walk.” He tugged, and again she fell to her hands and crawled just behind him. Tears fell silently. Not from embarrassment, at least she didn’t think so, but because she wanted something from him in that moment. She wanted the connection they’d had before the last spanking, or better before the dog fight.

Even after he’d strapped her raw in the hunting cabin, he had held her, had eased a fraction of the hurt. He’d closed her off from that part of him now. This was just business, just a means to an end.

The strap had hurt less.

She wanted him to pull her into his lap and snuggle her and kiss her and tell her everything was going to be all right. Because as much as she kept telling him she could handle the mess, the more she began to realize she hadn’t a clue how to manage the disaster waiting for her in Chicago.

While she’d been coming to see the things he’d been telling her were true, that she needed him, she needed help, he’d been pulling away from her. Separating himself from her.

He walked her around back of the cabin to the stump. The big fucking stump he’d sat on and spanked her nearly witless not hours before.

Her ass still felt tender, and she wasn’t sure she could take another spanking, but she wouldn’t fight him.

Kneeling in front of him while he sat, she remained silent. It seemed to be what he wanted when he patted his leg for her to lean her head on. The fabric of his jeans against her skin felt rough, but she didn’t complain. His hand rested on her head, stroking the hair from her face.

They stayed in that position—him petting her, and her allowing herself to sink into the safety of the act for the moment. She could allow herself that much at least.

“A police officer stopped at the bar asking about you.” His voice was firm, but he continued to stroke her with gentleness.

“That’s why Greg called?” She didn’t rise up. If she fought against his lead, he might take her back to the kennel and ignore her the rest of the night. And no strapping was worse than not having him near her.

“Yes. When he asked the guy to let him see his badge, he ended his questions and took off.” A finger got caught in a tangle, but he worked it out easily enough and didn’t hurt her. He could have just yanked through it, but he’d taken the time to untangle the strands.

“And you think it was one of the Pecadores or a dirty cop?” She closed her eyes.

“That’s what I’m thinking, yeah.”

His thumb traced her earlobe, sending a warm current through her body.

“I never contacted the police.”

“You were collecting evidence. Waiting until you had enough to make a difference.” His fingers continued to make their way through her hair, but she could feel his body tense. He hated what she’d tried to do.

“Right.” She twisted her head to look up at him. His jaw wasn’t clenched, but serious dark eyes looked down at her.

“A dangerous game.”

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