Page 15 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

Perfect. She thinks I’m my cousin. I don’t correct her.

Keyshawn wakesup when we’re about an hour away from my place. I can tell I did good work because I hear grunting and thumping but none of that overdramatic screaming. I warned her exactly what would happen if she ignored me. There is no way this outcome surprises her. I’m the one suffering the most – I have to drive all the way back to Oklahoma with a hard-on the entire time while she gets to lie down in relative comfort without worrying about gas or traffic.

Her second burst of energy doesn’t last long and by the time I get to my permanent residence – about fifty miles away from my little casino operation – I know I need to wake her up, but she’ll be too tuckered out to fight much. I had plenty of time on the road to think this through and the best way to deal with Keyshawn will be sticking precisely to my word.

Punishment. Extreme punishment.

If she doesn’t still havemy marks on her, I’ll make new ones. And I’ll keep her tied up for exactly twelve days. Every need she has will be mine to attend to completely, forcing her reliance on me and reminding her very deeply of what will happen in the future if she disobeys.

Partof me wants to talk myself off this ledge. I barely know this woman. I have no right to her. But that one night we had has me completely fucked up. Nothing besides having complete ownership over her will calm the storm she brought into my life. I didn’t ask for her to be that… perfect.

But now that I’ve had her, I just can’t let her go. I don’teven care if it makes me a monster for going this far. Life rewards the ones who go after what they want and right now, I want Keyshawn. I take my mask off when I open the back of the Tahoe again. Looks like she rolled around quite a bit back there. Judging by the rate of her breathing, she’s awake.

Keyshawn doesn’t face me. I just see the gigantic mass of tangled up black hair. Hands duct taped behind her back so she can’t beat my muscles to a pulp. Duct tape around her legs. She has her knees tucked into the fetal position. From here she must have been pounding her feet into the back of the driver’s seat.

And now I have to get her inside. I reach for her waist and slowly drag her back across the modified Tahoe. I really should only use this car for club business, but the last time I had anyone dead back here, I had the entire thing detailed.

When I turn Keyshawn around the first time and she sees my face, she looks shocked. What the fuck? I scowl at her, resentful that she continues to play this game like I didn't warn her about exactly what would happen if she ignored me.

"This isn't helping your case," I announce to her stiffly before throwing her bound and gagged body over my shoulders to drag her inside. This property is a lot more isolated than the condo. I have a playroom here too -- built to the exact specifications of the other one -- and more. Keyshawn's new home for the next twelve days will be the modified basement cell.

She couldn't fight me if she wanted to without hurting herself and I can tell by now that I resigned her to this fate. She isn't happy with me. But I don't need her to be happy. I need her to be the perfect set of lips to satisfy me. I need... reassurances that she won't run away again.

I need her to understand that when I choose a woman to be mine -- I can't have it any other way. I stayed away fromanything real for so long because of the way I'm wired. But she broke me.

Keyshawn picks up a little fight when I descend the basement stairs. It's female instinct. I grip her back so she doesn't start fighting and offer her stiff reassurance.

"Calm the fuck down."

She stiffens, I suspect with anger. I had plenty of time searching for her to prepare the cell. I cleaned the floors. Gave her a bed. A little rug. A book she can read if she gets bored. The Brothers Karamazov. I don't know. Ruger said that Zayna reads it to him at night, so I bought her a copy.

I open the cell and set her on the bed in a seated position. She glares at me.

"I'll take off the duct tape."

I remove the duct tape around her mouth.

"You're a psychopath," she says the second I take the tape off.

"Thank you would have been nice."

"You're joking, right?"

"Don't give me that attitude. I warned you what would happen."

I take a few steps back just in case she uses her mouth to hurl something at me other than insults. I also want to remind her that her ass needs me if she wants the ropes undone and not just the duct tape.

"You are crazy. You paid for one night and you got what you paid for. Let. Me. Go."

"Keyshawn..."

I trail off because I don't know what to think about her. Or do with her. I want to be close to her, but listening to her will only give her more time to think and more power over this situation than she needs.

"Yes?"

"If you say another word out of turn, your beating will begin now instead of tomorrow morning."

She swallows slowly and glares at me, fully aware that I have the capacity to follow through on every threat that I could possibly make towards her. I can't lie about how exhilarating it feels to have this much power over her after all those days of despairing that I would never find her again.

---