Naked Nights Read online

  He pulled the strap off his neck and started to place it on the bed beside her when he changed his mind. Watching her reaction, he trailed the strap down her back. She twitched and panted. Then he slowly guided it down her free leg. She shuddered and tried to slide away. He reversed direction, pushing down on her trapped ankle as he did so she couldn’t move. Her panting picked up and her short nails dug into her palms.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” Robert said. “Long as I’ve been at this, watching a captive’s responses still turns me on.”

  No doubt about it, teasing Marina and seeing what anticipation was doing to her made his cock throb. He didn’t want time to matter, wanted to spend the rest of today and all night taking her on one physical journey after another. As a teenager and when he had been in his early twenties, he hadn’t given a damn about what his sexual partner was experiencing, but maturity had changed him. He still preferred to focus on his pleasure, but at least he wasn’t in such a hurry. When it pleased him to do so, he paid close attention to the woman’s responses. He dropped the strap between Marina’s legs and pushed up the back of her top and shorts hem so the garments were out of the way. Keeping her leg bent, he slid the strap under her thigh. Using his forearm to prevent her from straightening her leg, he released her ankle, grabbed both ends of the strap, and closed the leather around her thigh and the top of her ankle. He slipped the end through the buckle and tightened it. Once he’d secured the restraint, he tried to slide his finger between the restraint and her flesh. Discovering he couldn’t, he stepped back and looked at what he’d done.

  The leg away from him was free, not that she was going anywhere. He’d in essence half-hogtied her. Her well-muscled thighs and calves impressed him, but then a jockey needed strong legs. He ran his fingers over both thighs. They were even firmer than he thought they’d be. He’d always been drawn to soft women, yet couldn’t help but admire this slight athlete.

  Curious to see what she’d do, he patted her ass. She rocked one way and the other. She managed to get onto her side, only to roll back onto her belly.

  He patted her ass again. “That’s only a taste of what you’re going to experience. From now on it’s going to be mostly painful.”

  When he switched to a series of slaps, she struggled to wrestle herself back onto her side. Her low whimper made him smile. The trainers hadn’t lied when they’d said how arousing mastering a slave could be. He felt good, damn good. He wasn’t sure he’d feel the same way if she’d panicked.

  “It’s pretty simple.” After subjecting each ass cheek to hard swats, he folded his arms across a chest that had convinced more than one man not to try to take him on. “I’m in control.”

  She closed then opened her eyes. There was no sign of the surrender he’d expected. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Damn it,” Robert grumbled. “You don’t owe her anything.”

  Robert was wrong. Marina Stenson deserved to know whether she was going to go on living.

  “Rape?” She swallowed. “This is all about raping me?”

  It wasn’t that simple, but even with her dark eyes begging for an explanation, he knew to keep his answer to the minimum.

  “I’m not going to rape you.”

  Her expression clearly said she wanted to believe him, but didn’t. Judging by her clenched teeth, she was trying to straighten her hobbled leg. When he’d first seen pictures of her, he’d become horny just thinking about bringing her under his control. It was no longer that simple. For one, he had to make good on his promise not to rape her.

  “We’re running out of time,” Robert said. “The plane’s waiting.”

  She tensed at the word ‘plane’. The longer he studied his captive, the less he understood her. The majority of women who’d flitted in and out of his life had gone out of their way to try to please him. His needs always came first. Now he was face to face with one who wanted nothing to do with him.

  Fine. Let her think that way for now. He’d teach her to put him before herself.

  “I know the plane’s there,” he told Robert. “Believe me, I’ve got it.”

  Outside, the sun slid beneath the horizon. Before long it would be dark. Marina might not have realized it, but she’d never see her home again. He debated apologizing for being such a bastard, then reminded himself of what lay ahead. After months of watching other trainers take their slaves through their paces, his time had come.

  As he stood over his captive, he formed a mental picture of what she’d look like with his collar around her neck and his metal clamps squeezing her nipples. She’d be on her knees with her head submissively bowed as she waited for her master’s command. Other trainers would acknowledge how well he’d trained her and make bets about how much she’d go for at auction. He’d no longer mess up his mind trying to decide what the hell to do with the rest of his life now that he was too old and beat-up for professional football.

  This broad didn’t matter. She was simply the means to a considerable paycheck. And a wealth of sexual satisfaction he’d only imagined until now. Instead of him having to wine and dine a potential sexual conquest, this future slave would do everything he wanted her to. And if she resisted—hell, he’d teach her the error of her ways.

  Full of himself, he hoisted her over his shoulder and straightened. She fought the arm he’d looped over her waist and her free leg pummeled his chest. He could have tightened his hold on her but didn’t because her struggles fed his hard-on.

  Robert opened the door and trailed behind him as he carried their captive to the carport. As he waited for Robert to lower the tailgate on her truck, he repeatedly squeezed her buttocks. Damn it, he could hardly wait to get her clothes off.

  She cursed, struggling uselessly.

  “You aren’t going anywhere I don’t want you to go, got it?” he told her. “From now on, you belong to me. Believe me, you don’t want to make the mistake of screaming.”

  Expecting her to beg him to let her go, he readied himself to spank her, but she remained silent. Her out-of-control breathing concerned him. Was she going to have a heart attack?

  “We need to go back to the house,” Robert said. “Make it look as if leaving was her idea.”

  “I know. Get started. I’ll join you.”

  Robert placed the gym bag in her truck bed then walked away. Tray hoisted her off his shoulder and onto her back near her equipment. When she tried to sit up, he effortlessly rolled her onto her side and held her in place. All those nights of fantasizing about his first capture and here she was, helpless and waiting for his next move.

  “I’m not saying where we’re going. All you need to know is that the location was chosen for its isolation. You think you have little elbow room here but that’s nothing compared to…”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Why? You’re potentially valuable, worth a lot more once I’m done with you than you ever could be as a jockey.”

  He’d designed his response to give her as little information as possible and, judging by how she thrashed under him, he’d accomplished what he’d intended. The trainers he’d talked to had universally cautioned him not to feel sorry for a subject. The less he saw her as a human being, the easier it was to bring her in line. Feeling her strain under his fingers, coupled with her shocked expression, made that difficult. If their roles were reversed, he’d be fighting for his life.

  He waited her out. It took several minutes, but finally her head sagged and she stopped trying to get out from under his heavy hand. She was drenched in sweat, her hair sticking to her cheeks and neck while her top clung to her breasts. When he let go of her, she rolled awkwardly onto her belly. Her eyes looked glazed. He hadn’t broken her. No way had she given up so soon.

  Wondering how much fire burned inside her spent body, he ran his hands under her shorts hem and roughly pinched her ass cheeks.

  “No!” She strained to lift herself off the truck bed. Her nails went in
search of his hands and he had no doubt she’d tear chunks of skin out of him given half a chance. He stopped trying to pinch her but kept his palms against her buttocks.

  “You bastard! Damn it, don’t!”

  “How are you going to stop me?”

  Instead of trying to answer, she turned her head so she was again staring at him. The longer the gaze held, the less he liked it. She was supposed to be subservient, a compliant little slave eager to fulfill his every wish.

  An idea—a need even—stirred and he let go of her so he could search through the gym bag. As he dug into the contents, she switched from glaring at him to watching his every move. He held up the sleep mask.

  “No.” She dug her knees into the floor mat and tried to spin away from him. “Oh please, no.”

  Unless he was mistaken, her ‘please’ was the first sign that she’d acknowledged how hopeless her situation was. He told himself he was doing what was necessary to ensure she wouldn’t risk hurting herself. At the same time, he was almost sorry to see the fight go out of her.

  Not bothering to spell out the obvious, he hauled her over to the tailgate. Even though she kept shaking her head, he placed the sleep mask around her eyes. After securing it, he tried to imagine what being forcefully blinded felt like. He wasn’t certain he knew what she was experiencing, but she must feel even more helpless. Until he, her captor, decided to restore that vital sense to her, she’d have no way of anticipating his moves. She couldn’t see where they were going.

  “It didn’t have to be this way,” he told her. “If you hadn’t tried to stop me from doing this”—he slipped his hands under her shorts—“I might have let you go on seeing.”

  Her response, if that’s what it was, consisted of rapid breaths. She’d stopped trying to get away, making him wonder if she was trying to get into his good graces. Maybe she was so overwhelmed she couldn’t remember how to make her muscles work.

  If that were the case, he’d give her something to think about.

  He pulled her shorts crotch down and to the side, giving his right hand a clear shot at her pussy. He easily found her sex opening. She was dry up there. Acknowledging that his brief manhandling hadn’t turned her on took a bite out of his ego until he reminded himself that fear could dry a woman. He moistened his fingers by running them over the sides of her mouth, then pushed one into her.

  “No,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Her surrender was music to his ears. He’d bring her down to animal level all right—and enjoy every step of the way. Done right, he could force sexual pleasure on her. That would be her ultimate undoing. Even though he was running out of time and would hear it from Robert, he decided to give her something to think about until they reached their destination.

  Wishing he could see more than her hollowed-out cheeks and parted lips, he slowly pumped her channel. Even though he was tempted to give it to her hard, in a matter of seconds, she stopped sucking in air. Her mouth relaxed and her breathing lengthened out. When he again went after saliva to coat her channel, she didn’t try to stop him from placing his fingers inside her mouth. She had to taste her sex on him.

  He continued to pull her shorts away from her crotch as he repeatedly pumped her soft, and now moist, opening. He no longer had to concern himself with whether she’d try to get away. In fact, judging by how her tethered leg sagged outward and her cuffed hands lay limply on the small of her back, he concluded that her response to being finger-fucked was overriding every other emotion. Her channel heated and filled with slick juice. She angled her free leg outward even more, which made reaching her pussy easier. There was no rhythm to her breathing, no strength left in her helpless body.

  Wise in the workings of female sexuality, he occasionally leveled attention on her clit. Every time he touched her there, she shuddered and lifted her ass. Otherwise, she might have been asleep for all the reaction he was getting—except for her flooded channel and out-of-control breathing.

  “Killing you is the last thing I’d do.” He fell silent as he buried two fingers as deep as they’d go inside her. “You’re too valuable the way you are.”

  “Valuable?”

  She spoke so softly he might not have heard if he hadn’t been cued into her. He pulled out, swiped her clit, plowed back in.

  “Responsive. A horny slut.”

  “You can’t— You can’t…”

  “Ah, but I am.”

  His longest romantic relationship had lasted all through his junior year of college and might have continued even longer if he hadn’t been drafted. A large part of Rachel’s appeal had been her insatiable sex drive. All he’d had to do was give her a seductive look and she had been ready for a round. They hadn’t had much in common beyond sex but he hadn’t cared. After they’d parted ways, he’d told himself there were other horny bitches somewhere. All he had to do was find them.

  Judging by Marina’s reactions, she might be one of those. If he was right, training her to be an always available whore should be easy. Giving her up might be another story.

  “This is going to be your undoing,” he told his now twitching captive. “You’ll do anything for a climax, anything. Endure—”

  “You work fast.”

  Tray didn’t bother acknowledging Robert. Neither did he have any inclination to hide what he was doing from the other man. In fact, he stepped to the side to improve the view while keeping his fingers in the sweet hot hole.

  “I wanted to give her something to think about until we reach—”

  “Don’t. We don’t want the captives to know where they are.”

  So much for thinking Robert would give him some credit. The damn pompous bastard was still trying to throw his weight around. Instead of pointing out that he hadn’t been about to reveal their destination, he wiggled his fingers. He not only smelled the arousal he’d forced on her, he was starting to understand why trainers often blinded their captives. Simply put, they had no choice but to depend on the men who were rebuilding them.

  “Are you done?” he asked Robert.

  “No. I want you to see what a sweep consists of. Tie her down and I’ll give you a demonstration.”

  He could have pointed out that a blindfolded, cuffed, and one-legged broad didn’t need to be tied down, but there was something to be said for increasing her sense of helplessness even more. Besides, if he continued pumping her, she’d probably come, and he wasn’t ready for that to happen.

  “Give me some rope.” He stopped moving his fingers but kept them buried in her. Her pussy muscles tightened around him. Damn but he wanted to get back to learning what made her tick.

  For once Robert kept his mouth shut. The other man dug into the sports bag, withdrew a length of white cotton rope and dropped it on her back. He positioned himself for a clearer view of what the shorts’ crotch didn’t cover. Tray figured Robert was weighing his chances of getting Marina in position for some back door action.

  It wasn’t going to happen, because this hot little number belonged to him for the foreseeable future.

  He debated letting her know they were just getting started, but, as he’d been told, the element of surprise served as a valuable tool. That in mind, he reluctantly withdrew. She turned her head as if trying to see his fingers. So his abuse of her sex had made her forget the blindfold.

  He picked up the rope and looped it twice around her neck, careful to knot it so it wouldn’t tighten. He secured the loose end to one of the truck’s tie-downs.

  “There.” He reached under her belly and unfastened her shorts, then tugged them down, exposing her buttocks. If it wasn’t for the leather hobble, he would have stripped her from the waist down. Maybe this was better because she was left to anticipate.

  “You going to take pictures?” Robert asked.

  Tray reached into his pocket for his cell phone. Obviously, Robert would like to get his hands on her, but knew better than to risk pissing Tray off. In other words, despite Robert’s belief that he needed to guide Tray
every step of the way today, he understood there were limits to what he could get away with.

  Damn right. This future sex slave was his.

  He snapped a number of shots that showed her from every angle. The neck rope was so short she couldn’t sit up, which meant the odds of someone spotting her were minimal. He supposed he should mentally go over the steps he’d be taking between now and when they reached the west coast facility, but he preferred taking pictures and mulling over the meaning of the word possession.

  “Think she’s worth the trouble?” Robert asked.

  “Hell yes.”

  “So do I. This one’s a winner.”

  “You hear that?” He patted her naked buttocks. “You’re a winner.”

  Chapter Four

  The men were gone. Marina had heard their footsteps on the gravel walkway leading to her house. In addition, she felt her solitude in her nerve endings—solitude she couldn’t do anything about.

  She was sweating under the blindfold. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself that discomfort was why she couldn’t dismiss not being able to see, it wasn’t the truth. Her captor must have known how vital vision was to her, which was why he’d robbed her of that precious ability. He’d handed her dramatic proof of how easily he could control her, and yet, not being able to use her hands or stand was nothing compared to blindness. They could return and she wouldn’t know. They might point a gun at her temple and she wouldn’t have any idea what they had in mind until the half-second before a bullet tore through her brain.

  No, they weren’t going to kill her. At least not yet. But maybe if she tried to call for help—not that anyone would hear.

  She kicked out, then sobbed under her breath when she couldn’t straighten her leg. The leather strap dug into her flesh but hadn’t cut off her circulation. Tray hadn’t needed to hobble her. Surely he knew she couldn’t outrun him with her arms secured behind her.

  Even though she hadn’t bothered with briefs, the shorts had seemed adequate when she’d put them on. Back then she’d believed she’d be spending the night alone. All she’d needed was a minimum of clothes on the remote chance one of her so-called neighbors dropped by.