He tortured her instead, sliding in another inch at a time, pushing in and out of her at an excruciating pace until he was fully inside her. Her restraints heightened even the smallest movement. Just when she thought she would pass out from the aching desire pooling inside her, his thrusts became harder. Declan’s hands freed her hair and gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh.

“Yes!” Charlie moaned. She needed the hard, rough edge of him. The sound of his cock sinking into her arousal. The feel of him driving so deeply it was as though he was trying to climb inside her body.

Charlie cried out as Declan smacked her ass with his open palm. She choked back tears as he repeated it on the other cheek. Declan continued talking to her, but his words were so hushed, the music drowned them out. She concentrated on the music and relaxed beneath his body, enjoying the pressure he was creating inside and out. She tripped on a couple of small quakes of pleasure, and then suddenly Declan stiffened and came hard inside her. She sobbed at her own failed release. She couldn’t do anything but lie still and sob.

Declan removed the spreader bar, opened the cuffs on her wrists, and helped her stand. Her legs wobbled; and he picked her up and carried her to the ottoman next to his chair. Declan gently placed her on her back, her legs and arms limply falling open on either side of the bench. She stared at him through bleary eyes as he smiled down at her. He was straddling the ottoman and slowly sliding inside her. His hands rested on her thighs, keeping them still as he stroked methodically, hitting that perfect spot over and over. In moments, she was breaking into a million pieces and shaking uncontrollably beneath him.

Declan whispered in her ear. “You belong to me, my sweet Charlotte.”

Charlie sighed contentedly. She floated on the edge of bliss. He brought her to this place. This beautiful place of erotic sedation. Euphoria. How she craved this place.

Chapter Ten

Lying in the passenger’s seat her phone repeated its buzzing as a series of texts came in at once. She had left Declan’s while he still slept so she could get ready for work at her place. Her phone bleated at her. It seemed like several texts coming in at once. She smiled, blushing with thoughts of Declan and his contraption. She pulled over into the parking lot next to St. Mary of Mercy and stopped the car. She flicked through her messages and discovered a series of texts from an unknown number. Charlie was fucked. Thoroughly fucked.

Unknown: You looked lovely last night. That color suits you.

Unknown: You are STILL my puppet. Repeat after me. You are my object my muse to tease. You are my puppet. Say it again.

Unknown: You will fight through my gag. You are my puppet. You will say it to me again soon. You will gurgle, whimper, and struggle to please. You will recite it. Over. And over again. You will learn it and know it, be it. The doll that I own, my toy¸ my desire, the creature I lust.

Unknown: You are my puppet. I will pull your strings. I will make you dance, move for my pleasure. You are my puppet. Shout if you will. Do what it takes so you never forget. You are my puppet.

***

Safely back at her house, Charlie stripped down and sat on the edge of her bed. “Dammit!” she screamed. She slammed her fist down on the mattress, glad of the soft surface but wishing the impact had been more rewarding.

She felt off balance, both angry and near tears. She wanted more than anything to put those memories of Griffin behind her. She felt miserable and alone and stupid—a mixture of emotions she couldn’t get through on her own. She did the only thing she could. She threw on some jeans and an old tee and packed her bag. She couldn’t stay there another minute, not when he could find her.

Charlie quickly dialed Natalie’s line at the office and left a voicemail stating she would be unavailable for a few days due to a family emergency. With the stereo turned up, Charlie headed out of the city. The further she got away from her memories, the better she could think because she knew she would have to confront the situation sooner or later.

It wasn’t until she took the turnoff for Fredonia that she realized she had been on autopilot to Emerson’s house. Charlie paid more attention to her driving now, watching traffic and the street signs for her turns. When she pulled into his drive the porch light was on as though he was expecting her. A moment later, the front door opened.

“Charlotte?” a voice called from behind the light as she stepped out of the car.

She forced a smile. “Hey, Emerson.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Who says anything’s wrong?” Her voice cracked. “Can’t I just come see my big brother?”

“Come here.” His arms surrounded Charlie as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay. Give me your bag. Let’s go inside.”

Emerson remained quiet for a few moments, measuring her. He handed her a mug of coffee and sat in the recliner, giving her some space on the couch.

“What’s his name? What did he do? And where can I find him so I can kill him?”

She snorted softly. “What makes you think it’s a man?”

“It’s barely daylight on, and you’re crying. You only cry about guys.”

“I do not.” She stuck out her lower lip.

“You do when it’s serious. Talk to me.”

She sighed and took a long sip. “Let’s just say the past is rearing its ugly head.”

“Are you sick? Your face is red.” Emerson felt Charlie’s forehead.

“I don’t think so” Charlie insisted.”

“Well you don’t seem to be running a fever. Wait… you’re blushing aren’t you?”

“Shut up! I am not!”

Emerson snorted, “You had sex. Hot, dirty sex.”

“Shit.”

“Hell, I was just guessing.” He grinned. “But now that you’ve admitted it, what don’t you like about hot, dirty sex?”

Charlie grimaced, “What do you consider hot and dirty?”

“Well, um …”

“Whose face is red now?”

“Touché.”

“You were explaining hot and dirty sex?” She set her mug on the end table.

“Fine. Obviously, anything that is fast and rough.”

“Obviously.” She grinned. It would be more fun getting him to admit his little secret himself.

He glared at her. “Some dirty talk as well. Maybe a little hair pulling. Not on the bed, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I’m being serious because you asked.” He took a drink. “Not your typical missionary.”

She held up her hands. “Oh, this definitely wasn’t missionary.”

“Vanilla?”

“What’s that?” Oh, how I love goading him. He considers me his naïve little sister. I’d be happy to let him believe it … At least for a few more minutes.

“Well, uh, your typical sex. Usually missionary or doggy style. Or cowgirl with her on top.”

“What do you call atypical sex? Chocolate? Neapolitan?”

Emerson laughed. “You’re like to research things. Don’t you know?” He took another sip of his beer. “Kinky, Charlie. It’s called kinky sex. BDSM. Control, ropes, and spanking. Shit like that.”

She lifted her coffee mug to her lips, but it couldn’t hide the corners of her mouth as they turned up.

“Are you shitting me? You knew what I was talking about?”

Charlie smirked and tipped back the cool liquid with delight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so embarrassed before. Priceless. It was worth it.”

“Anybody ever call you a tease?”

“Yeah, well, they used to.” Charlie sobered up a little, her melancholy returning. And before she could stop them, the words spilled out of her mouth. “I need some advice. I knew I could come to you. I may or may not be in trouble.”

“Charlie?”

“I’m starting to get in pretty deep with this guy. It’s getting intense. And just when I was starting to feel safe being back in a relationship, this guy from before comes back into the picture.”