I groaned as I slowly awakened and snuggled under the covers. The bed was super comfortable, and I was so warm. I started to nuzzle into my pillow, and the feeling of a lean, smooth chest against my cheek had me slowly opening my eyes. Then the night before came back to me with the impact of a sledgehammer. He'd removed the ropes then had taken me to the bathroom to shower with him.
The tenderness that he'd shown was almost dizzying. One minute he was brutal and punishing and the next he'd fucked me with such passion and need. He'd taken me three times over the night. The way he'd looked—his face flushed and his breathing harsh—I'd been amazed at the controlled Cowen losing his cool. He took the reins so easily—knew exactly what I craved and how much to give; he knew when to ease off.
Every muscle in my body ached, my hole was raw and still stretched with the plug. Each time he'd cum inside me, he'd replaced the toy. He seemed to want his sign of ownership to remain in my body.
His breathing was deep and even beneath my cheek. I didn't move as I let my gaze move over him. His body was covered in scars, and the ones on his arms couldn't be anything other than self-inflicted. He had patches of thick raised tissue that looked like burn marks. He was even missing hunks of flesh. I was concerned by the thinness of his frame. Although, I liked that he was smaller than me but able to dominate me so easily.
What I loved the most was that his response said he didn't find my body lacking. I'd grown content in the body I was blessed with, but I'd never found it appealing in other people's eyes.
I brought my fingers to my lips and remembered his kiss. It had been awkward as if he hadn't done it before or at the very least rarely. I didn't know what to think of the new development. I'd assumed when he ordered me upstairs that I'd earned a punishment for telling him I wanted to leave. His rage had clearly shown on his face and in his eyes. I didn't anticipate that he would be my first.
When he'd asked me was I his and would I stay, I hadn't hesitated to answer yes. When he was just my captor, I'd accepted that he would keep me until the moment he was tired of me. Now that I knew it was Cowen, I wanted to be his. I'd wanted him for years. I'd imagined Cowen loving on me in my dreams. Now, it was a reality, and I didn't want to go anywhere.
I didn't believe it was love. I wouldn't hold my feelings or his to such a lofty position. Did I believe he'd keep me forever? No, but even a limited time was better than none. I loved the way he filled me. The passion he showed when he pushed me over the precipice of desire I'd never felt in my life.
“Turn over on your side.”
I gasped at the gruff order and obeyed, and the plug was eased from my raw hole. I whimpered as I was filled with every thick, hard inch.
“Mine, boy.”
The words were nothing but a feral growl as he slammed his hips to my ass. The high-pitched grunt almost embarrassed me as he fucked me. He told me he owned me with every word and action. I drew my left leg to my chest to open myself further. His possession was everything I'd always needed and never knew I could have.
Three Weeks Later
Two weeks after I'd promised to stay with him, he'd allowed me to come back to work, but unlike before, I went home with Cowen every night. Sometimes back to his cabin or the penthouse apartment he kept in the city.
My new reality still took some adjustment. I'd nearly had a panic attack when I'd had to deal with the detectives that had looked for me. Lying wasn't a skill I possessed, but Cowen had taken care of my story. I just needed time away—a vacation. In some ways, it was a twisted truth. I'd discovered something about myself while held captive by him. I liked being taken care of and not having to worry about things.
He made sure I ate, slept, he'd even helped me pack up my things and move to his place. I loved my mother and wouldn't regret the years I had with her, even the ones that I acted as her caretaker. When I'd walked back into my house, it had felt more like a prison than the basement had. The memories were too much.
I still wondered if something was wrong with me. How easily I'd accepted the relationship. I lived for the lash of his whip. He grounded me when I felt lost. He rewarded me when I did something right. Most of my days were spent working with a plug in and ready for when he needed me. He fucked me numerous times a day. I relished the ache after he used me. Yet, my favorite reward out of everything was his kisses.
The way he wanted me was unrestrained. He didn't hide it, and when his cock would harden, he'd call me. I had a feeling that he'd never kissed before. It made the act more special for me.
The nights he left, he didn't lie about where he was going. I wondered how many people he'd killed. As soon as I started to think about it, I pushed the thoughts away. It was a part of him he never brought into the house or apartment. Some part of me was still terrified of his silences and coldness, as if I knew that one day, he'd grow bored with me.
Today he was in court, and I was alone in the office. I didn't like it when he left me unaccompanied. My separation anxiety was at an all-time high.
The outer door opened and I pasted a smile on my face. A man in an expensive suit and a hundred-dollar haircut entered. The stranger was gorgeous in that distinguished way that made mere mortal men insecure. Elegant and handsome, rich and entitled, and he put me on edge.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?”
“Is Mr. Kingsley in?”
We didn't get many walk-in clients, it was mostly by appointment, but I was always supposed to ask them to leave a message or schedule a time. Cowen didn't like being disturbed when he worked. Closed door meant not to bother him.
“No, sir, he's in court. Can I take a message or schedule a convenient time for a meeting?”
“No, I can wait.”
I frowned as the guy unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat in one of a few chairs we had for clients.
“It could be a few hours.”
“I have time. We have a bit of business to discuss.” The man lazily crossed his legs and seemed to settle in for the wait.
“Okay.” The man made me uncomfortable, and I’d let Cowen deal with the pushy man when he returned. “Would you like a cup of coffee or some water?”
“Coffee would be great, thank you.”
“Milk and sugar?”
“Black is fine.”
I went into the small room that acted as a breakroom and poured a cup of coffee. Something about the man was off, and I didn't know what to do except treat him like any other client. The man in the outer office wasn't any different than any other shady client Cowen had taken. Something about this one put me on edge, though.
I reentered the room and approached the stranger with a smile.
“Thank you, Harrison.”
I backed up quickly as his fingers caressed over mine as he took the mug. The touch wasn’t impersonal, neither was the heated gaze the man gave me.
“Cowen has…amazing taste in men.”
I didn't like the way he drew his gaze down my body.
“Who are you?”
The man lazily drank his coffee with a small smile, but his eyes turned cold, darkening.
“Cowen has become lax in his job he does for me. I can't let his insubordination go unpunished. What kind of boss would that make me, Harrison?”
He made my name sound like a curse, as if it was my fault Cowen wasn't doing something for him. I hadn't once demanded anything from Cowen. Didn't fight him when he left to take care of jobs since I'd promise to stay with him.
I was about to answer when the door opened, and three men that made me look small entered with guns drawn.
“You're going to come with us. I had thought about just having a talk with Cowen, but really, this is a better option. I can take something which belongs to him.”
Two of the men flanked me, and the other came up behind me. I was a big man, but I wasn't a fighter, and I was no match for the barrel of a gun digging painfully into my ribs. Cowen would come for me since I belonged to him, but maybe he would think it was too much trouble. Easier just to find another toy to play with when he was bored.
Cowen's employer set aside the mug and stood, then he did up the buttons of his jacket, smiling pleasantly at me like it was just a normal everyday conversation. Like they weren't using me for bait to lure Cowen out.
I was confused and terrified as I let them lead me from the office and down to a limo waiting at the curb. I started to get into the car, then fell inside between the seats as one of them pushed me. Quickly I rolled onto my back and stared up at them. Their calmness was scarier than Cowen's, and I'd seen the violence and cruelty he was capable.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Harrison, we need to make an example. Cowen needs to learn there are repercussions for not doing as ordered. I pay him quite well for the service he provides.”
The stranger talked as if Cowen didn't murder people for him. Cowen was quiet and intense, self-assured to the point of arrogance, but nothing made me overly anxious around him; not like the man smiling at me as if we were speaking about the weather.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Well, it's quite simple, you're Cowen's weakness. I was shocked to discover that the cold-blooded bastard had a man. It's required that I know everything about my employees. Loved ones are the easiest weaknesses.”
“Cowen won't come for me. He'll just replace me. You're wasting your time.” It hurt because I believed the statement to be true. Sir may be possessive of me, but I had no illusions that he would go out of his way to rescue me. If he came, it would be to destroy the people who dared threaten him.
“I know quite a bit about Cowen. He committed his first murder before he reached puberty. A born killer and there has never been one as proficient as him. If you're going to be a hindrance in him working for me, then I must make an example of you. First, we'll send you to him piece by piece until he comes around to my way of thinking.”
I'd survived the pain Cowen inflicted, but he didn't want to cause permanent damage. These men would whittle away at my body, and all they would earn was Cowen's rage. The arrogance of the man speaking to me would be his downfall. No one owned Cowen—never would.
Just as I'd accepted that my captor would kill me weeks ago, I did the same now. I would die, and there was nothing I could do about it. All I could hope for would be that they didn't draw it out. I'd have preferred them slitting my throat and leaving me for Cowen to find when he returned.
They would torture me as an example to a man who didn't work the way they thought. Cowen was more than a professional killer—assassin—as the man stated, Cowen was a born killer. He had the coldness and detachment from society which made him perfect for his job.
The double life Cowen lived required control and the ability to compartmentalize. Cowen looked…ordinary. Nothing about him was exceptional. When looking at Cowen, you'd never know what he was capable of doing. Seeing behind the mask had opened my eyes to the man my boss pretended to be and held no illusions. He wanted to fuck and own me, but I knew those days were numbered. This incident would just make it happen sooner.
It depressed me, but did I really have a place to complain?
“Cowen will come, but it won't be for me. He doesn't love me. He'll just kill you for the fun of it.”
The man threw back his head as he let out a belly laugh.
“You poor boy. I don't care if he believes he loves you or not. I just want to destroy something he owns. You're only a means to an end.”
“Then kill me.”
“Not yet, I'm going to have some fun with you first.”
He gripped my hair in a brutal grip, nothing like Cowen's and I turned my head, feeling the sharp burn to my scalp as I avoided him kissing me. They could do whatever they wanted to me, remove fingers or limbs, flay me alive, but they wouldn't use my body like that. That I would fight. Cowen was the only man who would ever love on me. I'd slit my own throat before I'd let this man or anyone else touch me.