She could understand that he wasn’t the type to cuddle and she needed time to come to terms with the truth of what they’d just done herself, so she was happy to say nothing at all.

Mismatched exhales became her focus and she let her eyes close because guilt wouldn’t change what had happened, so she was ready to try and sleep, hoping the new day would bring clarity.

Much to her surprise Dax’s arm channelled between her back and the mattress and she was scooped up over his lap, face down on the bed.

‘Hey,’ she said.

When she tried to get up, Dax brought his leg around to pin it over the back of her thighs to hold her down. But she had no time to object. He thwacked her ass with an open palm and the buzz of his spank stunned her still for a split second. The next smack made her try again to free herself but his arm came down on her spine to hold her fast and he spanked her again.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she called.

‘You were a naughty girl, Minx. You don’t get away until I tell you.’ He spanked her three more times and though she yelped at each and the pain of his force increased, the tingling carried on forward to the still engorged centre he’d just penetrated.

‘Stop,’ she protested but arched her ass up a few inches.

His palm smoothed over the flesh he’d just bruised then he smacked it again. ‘You’re a bad girl. When you break my rules, you need to be disciplined. My female does what I tell her to.’

‘I am not your female,’ she said and his next smack was enough to make her squawk and the insistent line of his erection prodded into her belly. ‘You’re not going to use that.’

‘I’ll do anything I please with my female, and that’s exactly what you are, Minx. I own you.’

‘You do not control me.’ But her wriggling was useless so she slackened and he whacked her ass again then tossed her aside.

Clambering away, she shifted to sit but her stinging ass cheeks made her roll to her side. He pushed her onto her front and threw a leg over her then stroked her butt.

‘You’ll learn to be a good girl for me, Minx. That spirit of yours will belong to me, just like the rest of you. Now get some sleep, you’ve got more work to do. I’m not done with you yet.’

He rolled over and she thought he was going to sleep, but a drawer rolled on its runners and he turned back to her and sat up. Something plastic tightened on her ankle and she tried to see it, then he linked another one through it and the sound brought her clarity – he’d used two zip ties to link her to a foot post.

‘Close your eyes, Minx,’ he said, patting her butt. Brushing her hair aside, he pressed a condescending kiss between her shoulder blades.

‘You’re a jerk, keep your hands off me.’

Rubbing his face in her hair, he whispered in her ear. ‘I will until that body of yours craves mine again. You want me and I’ll do with you anything I please, you don’t have it in your power to refuse me. Go to sleep.’

This time when he turned over he remained in place with his back to her and eventually his snoring told her that he was asleep. Lying on her front wasn’t a comfortable position and her breasts were squashed so much that they ached, but with the tie around her ankle she couldn’t get to her back.

Reaching for a pillow, she tried her best to make herself comfortable, for now she was stuck and she needed her rest. It had been a long time since she’d seen a bed, so despite despising herself for giving in to her overload of hormones in the presence of this asshole – this domineering, arrogant, hot as hell asshole who had just given her the best sexual experience of her life – she closed her eyes and relaxed into slumber.

Chapter Six

During the night Dax had woken her up three times to demand further satisfaction. Her stubborn nature obliged her to protest, but each time she’d given in. Each encounter was more intense than the last and she began to notice that something in her seemed to tame something in the wildness of him; though he battled the instinct to be calmed by her.

Being that she was still recovering from her stretch of incarceration in the basement, where she’d been deprived of the necessities of sustenance, Ivy was tired and stiff this morning. Though the stiffness more likely came from Dax’s demands that she do all of the physical work during their intimacy. She would be quite happy to stay here in their sullied sheets all day recovering from what she’d been through recently. But when she cracked open an eyelid and saw Bruno towering over her, she came awake quickly.

‘Shower time,’ he said. ‘The men are getting hungry.’

The last time Dax had strapped her ankle to the foot post she’d been on her back, meaning that now, she was in the right position to sit up. The first thing she noticed was that Dax wasn’t here, the bed was empty. The covers had been tossed aside, leaving her exposed to the room. Either the draft, or the violation of Bruno ogling her figure, must have woken her.

On the tip of her tongue was the question of Dax’s location, but she didn’t voice it, she kept her lips sealed. Bruno freed her ankle and escorted her to the shower where he once again watched her wash and directed her grooming. He didn’t loiter over the process today, and when she was dry he gave her another bikini and again told her to don her shoes and tie her hair up in the absurd bunches.

In the kitchen she was expected to prepare breakfast, yet there was still no sign of Dax. It was while she was feeding Bruno his honey slathered toast that Dax came in and poured himself a coffee. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his solid form and waited for some kind of acknowledgement. But it never came.

He crossed to the kitchen table with his coffee in hand and sat opposite her and Bruno. The newspaper Bruno had been perusing while she made breakfast was still there and Dax turned it over to read the back page as though he was alone in this occupied room.

‘Where should you be right now?’ Bruno asked her and she had to snap herself out of her mental fume to remind herself of her role.

Leaving her seat, she went and knelt on the floor at Dax’s feet just as Bruno had instructed her to do when Dax entered a room.  With the flesh of his leg so close to her, Ivy was tempted to sink her teeth into his knee just to get a reaction.

Dax couldn’t have expected her to come and take position where she had, but instead of looking to her for an explanation, he looked to Bruno.

‘She’s waiting for your instructions,’ Bruno said. ‘You have to tell her that it’s ok to carry on with what she was doing. You’re the owner, remember?’

‘Right,’ Dax mumbled. ‘Carry on.’

Climbing to her feet, she went back to sit beside Bruno wondering why Dax wasn’t as adept with this enslaving thing as Bruno was. ‘Want our slave to cook you something?’ Bruno asked, then opened his mouth toward her in expectation of another bite.

This was so demeaning. She knew that the point of the exercise was to belittle her, but it took every ounce of her willpower not to shove the toasted lump down the letch’s throat.

‘No,’ Dax said, spreading open the newspaper.

‘You made your mark on her last night,’ Bruno grinned, fondling her breasts while watching Dax read his paper as if he was expecting some kind of reaction from either her or Dax, but he got none.

Ivy wouldn’t give Bruno the satisfaction of recoiling and she didn’t want to end up back in the basement. Undoing the progress that she’d made would be foolish; she had no idea what Dax’s reasoning was. He had said he wouldn’t touch her sexually on the same day another man had.

‘They taste as good as they feel?’ Bruno asked Dax, slipping his hand into her cleavage.

‘Not really,’ Dax said. The indifferent insult was preceded by him turning the page.

‘That sweet ass is red raw,’ Bruno said.