Stealing Scarlett Page 11

  It was terrifying and incredibly erotic at the same time. Whatever it was, she’d just been given a taste of something highly addictive. Her lips parted slightly, her breathing shallow as an unfamiliar tingling touched her belly. She lowered her eyes, instinctively submitting to his gaze. Sliding a hand through her hair, he drew her forward, his lips brushing against her cheek. “Much better.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The bed was massive.

  An iron masterpiece, really. Thick poles stood guard at each corner of the bed, a dark green canopy hanging above them. Ornate bars crisscrossed at the head, velvety pillows reclining lazily against them. It was both welcoming and intimidating at the same time. Much like her captor.

  A click sounded behind her, and she jumped slightly. She knew he’d just locked the door, but couldn’t bring herself to turn around and face him. Kid herself as she might, she knew there was no denying him in close quarters like this. One of those long, hard stares and she’d melt. She’d have to get out of here before that happened.

  “There’s a bath suite to your right, if you’d like to freshen up.” He sidled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Scarlett’s heart leapt into her throat as the room began to spin around her. She couldn’t stop thinking about the scene downstairs. That tone. That commanding, powerful, sexy tone that made her want to drop to her knees and do anything he told her.

  Get a grip, woman!

  Jesus, what was happening to her?

  “Thank you.” She lurched forward, nearly stumbling over her heels. “I think I will.” Hurrying toward the bathroom door, she bolted through the door and slammed it behind her.

  Chase couldn’t help smiling, greatly entertained by her dramatic exit.

  Walking over to the bed, he turned the turned the comforter down, wondering which side she preferred sleeping on. The idea of letting her spend the night in a separate room had occurred to him, but he was too exhausted to chance her trying to escape. He’d meant it when he’d said it wasn’t possible ‑‑ the chateau was very much isolated. This part of the mountain didn’t even have telephone lines due to the difficult terrain.

  Still, he wouldn’t put it past her, despite the obvious weather impediments. She was just brash enough to try, and he couldn’t risk that kind of defiance until he’d had some sleep. Not that he wasn’t enjoying her little temper tantrums. Bratting, as it was more commonly known in his circle. A way of provoking him into giving her the attention she yearned for, but couldn’t verbalize.

  He had to admit, he’d had his doubts about bringing her here like this ‑‑ but those doubts were long gone. The scene downstairs had driven it all home for him. Small though it was, that was the first act of genuine submission he’d seen from her. The fact that she’d done it without any real prompting spoke volumes. Despite that steely façade, she was a true submissive, deep down inside, whether she knew it or not.

  She was in the right place, with the right man.

  It was all very simple, really. A classic case of a strong woman in need of a stronger man. Unfortunately, she’d spent a lifetime convincing herself a stronger man didn’t exist, and now that he was here, she didn’t know how to let him in.

  Fortunately, he was willing to break the door down.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pulling the towel across her breasts, Scarlett tried to ignore her aching nipples as she stepped out of the bathtub. She should be used to it by now. They’d been begging for attention ever since he’d shown up last night. Padding across the rose-colored marble, she headed for the silver vanity on the far side of the bathroom. Suite, really. The gigantic room could house a small family.

  Thick black hair hung down her back, wet locks glistening in the light. How long had she been hiding away in here? Under normal circumstances, a lengthy bath would have been welcome. Tonight, it was just plain agonizing. Despite her efforts, every attempt at relaxing was met with fluctuating emotions. Most disturbingly, the emotion which seemed to come out on top ‑‑ excitement.

  It didn’t take a shrink to know there was something utterly unhealthy about that. Right? When someone snatches you from your home and holds you prisoner in a foreign country, it should scare you. If nothing else, it ought to make you worry. A lot. The fact she wasn’t biting her nails was a clear sign of mental illness.

  The last few inches of water gurgled down the drain, the sound breaking up the thoughts in her head. Grabbing a comb from the vanity, she stared at her reflection and sighed. It was too confusing, all of it. Her rational mind told her to hurry up and get the hell out of here, even if it meant freezing to death in the process. The rest of her…well, the rest of her was having an identity crisis.

  That scene downstairs ‑‑ the one in which he’d silenced her so effortlessly ‑‑ she couldn’t get it out of her mind. In a split second, she’d become a different person. A person she would never have guessed she could become. In that moment, he’d had full control of her. He could have done anything, and she had the distinct impression she would have thrived on it.

  In fact, something told her she needed it.

  Which was absolutely sick. Insane. Wrong. Demented. And a host of other adjectives she could list, if only she weren’t so emotionally and physically exhausted. One thing was for sure; she’d have to be very careful with him from now on. Giving her hair one final stroke, she set the comb down and stood up. She couldn’t hide in here all night.

  It was time to face the enemy.

  Pulling the door open as quietly as possible, Scarlett peered into the bedroom. Giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, she was surprised to find him already in bed. Asleep, even, judging from his slow and steady breathing. Mouthing a silent thank you to the man upstairs, she let the bathroom light her way as she crept into the bedroom.

  Scanning the area, she located her suitcase and hurried over to it. Crossing her fingers in hopes she might find something suitable for snow, she knelt down and flipped it open. Alas, her rummaging proved futile. She couldn’t brave the elements in fetish wear! Grabbing a bra and some panties, she headed for the armoire and peeked inside.

  Faced with a neatly pressed row of shirts, she slid one off its hanger and held it up. At least it wasn’t see-through. Preparing to drop her towel, she paused to give him another look. Still sleeping, as far as she could tell. Something of a shock, really, she would have thought him more difficult to sneak out on. Letting the towel fall away from her body, she donned the bra and panties as quickly as possible. Slipping into his shirt, she did her best to adjust to sleeves to a reasonable length. Easier said than done, when raiding a giant’s wardrobe. Closing the armoire, she turned to the right and reached for the dresser. Sliding a drawer out, she rifled through its contents, praying for a pair of pants she could make do with.

  Her fingers came in contact with a pair of sweatpants, and she smiled. Dragging them out, she turned around and let them unfold, holding them up to her waist. Long, but so were her legs. She’d have to really cinch the waist, but it would be manageable. Her smile deepened as she prepared to lean against the dresser, extending an arm behind her. This was just too damned easy.

  “The shirt suits you.” Strong fingers intercepted her hand suddenly. “The pants don’t.”

  Scarlett sucked in her breath as Chase spun her around, his magnificent form coming into view. The light streaming in from the bathroom highlighted every muscle in his body. Clad only in black boxer briefs, he made Hercules look like a prepubescent boy. How long had he been awake? Had he even been asleep?

  “You can escape tomorrow.” He took the pants away and tossed them on the dresser. “Right now, it’s time for bed.”

  “I’m not tired!” she lied as he led her across the room.

  “That’s because you’ve slept within the last twenty-four hours.” He plucked her from the floor and dropped her on the giant bed.

  “Bastard!” She scowled, prudishly drawing the covers up around her. Closing h
er eyes, she braced herself for his advance, determined to resist at any cost.

  He chuckled softly as he climbed in beside her. “Good night, Scarlett.”

  Good night, Scarlett? She opened one eye and peeked over at her captor. He was already lying down, eyes closed, head propped up against the pillows. He looked peaceful. Relaxed.

  That’s it? She couldn’t believe it.

  What were you hoping for? a little voice teased.

  Nothing! She threw herself backward, arms crossed as she hit the pillow with a thud.

  “No pouting.” Chase turned on his side and reached for her.

  “Don’t touch me!” She squirmed like a child as his arms closed around her body, pulling her into his embrace.

  “I intend to make sure you’re still here when I wake up.” He swept her hair behind her shoulder, nibbling the nape of her neck.

  A soft moan escaped her lips, and she pressed herself backward, reveling in the warmth of his skin. “I hate you.” She sighed miserably as his arms tightened their hold, a prisoner in his embrace.

  Chuckling softly, he drew the covers across her shoulder, tucking her in gently. “You’ve mentioned.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pulse racing, Scarlett shot upright in bed as lightning flashed through the room. A thunderclap followed immediately, the force rattling the window panes. There were few things on Earth which scared her. Thunderstorms, no matter how irrational it seemed, were one of them. Another flash streaked across the sky, and she braced herself for the horrible sound that would follow.

  The ultrasonic boom rumbled through the heavens, and she flinched in spite of herself. Distracted by the raging nightmare, she didn’t hear Chase move until his hand came to rest on her shoulder. She jumped at the unexpected touch, reflex demanding she move in the opposite direction immediately. Bolting toward the other end of the bed, she yelped as a hand wrapped around her thigh. Between the adrenaline and that nervous flutter that always accompanied his touch, she was absolutely beside herself.

  “Let go!” She kicked wildly, hoping to gain some kind of leverage.

  “Settle down, damn it.” He clasped her shirt, pulling her forward until she collided with his chest. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Breathless, she pummeled his chest and tried to push herself backward. He released his hold and Scarlett squealed indignantly as the buttons broke loose. The force of his grip had shattered all but a few of them.

  “Look at what you did!” she cried as the shirt fell open to her waist.

  “I’m looking.” His voice deepened as he moved closer, his hands sliding around her waist.

  Her eyes flew to his face and she blushed as his smile came into focus. “Well, you can just stop!”

  A bolt of lighting struck a tree, her shriek instantaneous as the crack of splitting wood resonated through the bedroom.

  “Scarlet.” He chuckled, pulling her into his arms. “You’re not really afraid of ‑‑”

  His question ended with a loud grunt, as her fist connected with his abdomen. “Shut up!” She scrunched her face up and shot him a glare. She wasn’t a fan of thunder or lightning. So what?

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He sighed, gently massaging his abs.

  She turned her nose up in response.

  “You’re perfectly safe.” His fingers swept through her hair, drawing her toward him.

  She was about to issue a snide reply when he lowered his mouth suddenly, claiming her lips with a hard, passionate kiss. The storm all but disappeared as his hand delved through her hair, tilting her head to the angle he desired. Spine tingling as he traced a path down her back, she moaned as he jerked her into his arms, his fingers running down her back. She was beginning to lose herself in his embrace, when another burst of thunder bellowed outside, prompting her to break free of the kiss.

  “Don’t take advantage of me!” She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth in an exaggerated show of disgust.

  “One cannot not force the willing,” he whispered softly, tracing her lips with his finger.

  “I’m not willing!” She inched her way backward.

  “Of course, you are.” Bending forward with lightning speed, his arms surrounded her body, lifting her easily.

  Scarlett protested loudly as he drew her legs around his waist ‑‑ and then gasped. With minimal clothing separating their bodies, his arousal was suddenly obvious. Biting her lip, she swallowed hard. It hadn’t occurred to her that everything might be in proportion to his incredible stature. She wouldn’t have even thought that possible.

  Raising her gaze slowly to his, she stared at him through lowered lashes, an unmistakable sense of need creeping through her body. Despite the room being dimly lit, she could see his eyes clearly. Equally clear was the intent behind them. He fully meant to have her. Reaching between their bodies, he grabbed the lower portion of her shirt and gave it a good yank, freeing the few buttons still intact.

  “Animal!” she screeched loudly, secretly enjoying the display of raw power.

  “Just think, I’m on my best behavior.” A wicked smile crossed his face as he lowered his mouth to her neck.

  His teeth found her shoulder, testing the softness of her skin until she screamed with pleasure. The bite was just hard enough to bring her under his control and more arousing than any one thing she could think of. Her nipples hardened as his teeth inched closer to her neck, biting her again. The mix of pain and pleasure was exquisite. Letting her head fall back, she reached for him, threading her fingers through his hair. Squeezing her thighs around his waist, she molded her body to his, moaning loudly as her clit brushed against his shaft. His arms tightening around her waist, she moaned as he crushed her to his chest.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, wanton desire overriding her sense of propriety.

  “No.” He ceased his conquest abruptly, placing her back on the bed.

  Scarlett’s jaw dropped, her embarrassment matched only by her rage. “You arrogant, twisted son of a ‑‑”

  A sinewy arm snaked around her back, hauling her forward and across his lap. A very loud thwack broke the silence as his hand came down across her bottom.

  “Ohhhh!” She nearly choked on her fury, speechless at how easily he’d managed to pull her across his knee like a naughty child. “You will pay for that!”

  Thwack!

  A second slap across her well-rounded derriere, and she was ready to kill him now. “What do you think you’re doing?” She tried to kick him, but found it impossible from her current position.

  “I think” ‑‑ he paused to give her another good thwack! ‑‑ “I’m expressing my disapproval.”

  “For what?” She was completely flabbergasted at this point.

  Hoisting her into his arms, he carried her to the headboard and set her down, propping her up against the smooth iron bars. Retrieving the shirt she’d worn earlier, he held it up and tore the sleeves off as easily as if they’d been made of paper. A lump formed in her throat as he stretched one of them in his hands. She wanted to ask his intentions, but didn’t dare.

  A flash of lightning lit up the room, the sound of dwindling thunder rumbling in the distance. She’d grown oblivious to the storm once he’d taken hold of her. She considered looking out the window, to confirm its retreat, but didn’t dare take her eyes from her captor. He was clearly the more dangerous of the two!

  “On your knees, bella.”

  She swallowed. “I’d prefer ‑‑”

  “Do you need assistance?” He cocked an eyebrow.

  Her eyes widened. One spanking was enough. “No ‑‑ no. I can do it myself.” She got to her knees quickly.

  “Arms out.”

  Giving him a bewildered look, she raised her arms, extending them outward as he’d ordered. He gazed at her for a few moments, her body wavering slightly under the weight of his stare. She was just about to let them drop when he reached out and took her hand.

  “What are you doing?” She frowned as he
wrapped one of the shirtsleeves around her wrist.

  “Securing you.” He tied her wrist to one of the bars behind her head, gently tucking a pillow between them and her back.

  Turning her head, she watched in horror as he turned the shirtsleeve into a restraint. “But, I don’t understand ‑‑”

  “Every submissive’s journey begins somewhere.” He took her other wrist and repeated the action, tying her to the bar. “Yours starts here.”

  “Submissive?” She chortled loudly. “I’m submissive to no one.”

  A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Not yet.”

  Scarlett was vaguely aware of the sound of her own breathing. It had quickened considerably, but the more she tried to control it, the more ragged it became. The rhythm made her feel fantastically sexy, for some reason. Arching her back, she flattened her arms against the iron bars, delighting in their cool surface. She couldn’t escape and no longer wanted to.

  Chase looked her over, his cock pulsating with need.

  If she only knew how much effort it required, taking this as slow as he was. He wanted nothing more than to pin her against those bars and fuck her until she begged for a lifetime of slavery. Or submission. Either one would suit, really. If it weren’t her first time, he might well have done so by now ‑‑ his desire was that strong.

  His gaze ran down her body, admiring the plum-colored bra just long enough to determine she’d look better without it. Bringing himself close, he whispered into her ear. “You won’t be needing this for awhile.”

  Reaching around her back, he unclasped the tiny hooks and removed the bra, groaning softly as her breasts spilled into his hands. They were absolutely perfect. Taut, pink nipples already hardened and awaiting his mouth. He pinched them softly, and her breath caught, her face betraying an inner turmoil. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Her conscience wanted to fight him, but her body wanted to thank him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger against her lips.