Текст книги "Push"

Автор книги: Olivia R. Keane

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

With the extra sensation, Charlie became completely undone. While Charlie writhed, twisting in climax atop the table, Declan stroked and rubbed her clit urging her climax onward.

“So you see, my Charlotte,” Declan spoke confidently. “When you trust me fully, you are rewarded in the most pleasurable way possible.”

Chapter Seventeen

Charlie checked the time on her desktop. It was well past lunchtime. She had been busy all Monday morning. She glanced over at Declan’s office. He was on the phone, and Charlie doubted he would bother to take a lunch break at all, working all the way through until his afternoon meeting.

She rose from her desk and collected her purse. Declan looked over at her, his eyebrow raising in question as she started for her office door.

Time for lunch, Charlie mouthed. I’ll bring you back something. She blew him a kiss, making his eyes sparkle.

When Charlie stepped outside the building, an excited thrill raced up her spine. She loved this time of year. She loved the change in seasons, and she always looked forward to Christmas. She could smell snow in the air. Perfect weather for the holidays. She practically skipped down the block toward the Italian restaurant where she and Declan often had takeout. She clutched her coat tightly as a gust of wind blew over her and ducked into the restaurant to place their order.

Ten minutes later, she collected the order and pushed her way through the crowded interior. A few flakes were twirling in the air, and she picked up her pace, as the wind grew stronger. Charlie had her head down as she rounded the corner to the front entrance of Pearse Publishing when she ran into someone. Charlie dropped one of the takeout bags and she bent, apologizing as she retrieved it. Hopefully she didn’t do too much damage to the food. As she stood back up, the person she’d collided with was still there.

Nausea bloomed in her stomach when she got a good look at the woman’s face. Katherine. She had the feeling after their only conversation it wouldn’t be the last time she’d see her.

Charlie took a cautious step backward, remembering that Katherine seemed a bit unhinged the last time she had seen her. “What do you want?” she bit out. “Declan will not be pleased to find you harassing me.”

Katherine’s face twisted into a snarl. “Thanks to your overreaction, Declan’s gone off the rails. He’s refused to publish anything of mine. He won’t do business with me because of you, and he’ll blackball me, which will hurt my ability to get anything published ever. You’ve fucked everything up; you little bitch!”

“I fucked everything up for you?” Charlie yelled. “You did it to yourself, Katherine.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Katherine shouted, gripping Charlie’s wrist tightly.

“Get the hell away from me,” Charlie warned. “Back off!”

Katherine’s grasp was tight and cruel. Charlie wanted to get the hell away from Katherine and return to Declan. To the safety of his arms, where she knew he’d never allow anything or anyone to hurt her.

“No chance in hell, sweetheart. You and I have something to discuss,” she snapped. “I want you to convince Declan to publish my latest manuscript. I know you can do it. You have him wrapped around your little finger. I need this publishing contract to happen, Sugar Kink, and you’re going to get it for me.”

“You’re out of your ever loving mind! I’m not doing any such thing. Declan would kill me for even suggesting it. I am not going to go against his wishes, especially not for the likes of you. No get out of my face or I’ll start screaming bloody murder.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that,” Katherine spoke in a low voice. She shoved her phone at Charlie, the display screen jumping before she could bring it into focus. She gasped at what she saw on the screen. How could this be happening?

“Oh my God,” Charlie whispered.

It was her. It was a picture of her covered in wax.

How did she get this? As far as she knew, Declan was the only one who had a copy. Declan snapped them the night he first introduced her to candle play. The fact that Katherine had seen them, that possibly others had seen them, sickened her. Nausea viciously knotted her stomach.

“Now here’s how this works,” Katherine said, her grip on Charlie’s wrist tightened as if she knew how much Charlie wanted to get away. “You’re going to give Declan the manuscript, pretending not to know it’s mine, and ask that he take a look at it. You convince him to publish it using whatever charms seem to have him under your spell. If you don’t, I will go public with these photos. How do you think your family will like to see these pictures? How do you think old man Pearse will like that his son is screwing the staff? You will all be famous, but not in a way that any of you will enjoy.”

An icy cold settled into Charlie’s body. She stared numbly at Katherine as devastation crashed over her. That bitch would do it too. She saw the desperation in her eyes.

“Think it over,” Katherine said, shoving a manila envelope at her. “I’ll expect you to meet me this weekend. If you fail to, I will plaster these pictures all over the Internet.”

Katherine released her arm and strolled away, disappearing into the coat clad crowd.

Charlie stood there outside the building, the snow collecting in her hair as it fell. She was in shock over the illicit photos Katherine had in her possession. If Charlie didn’t do what she asked, those photos became public Her parents would see them. Declan’s family would see them. Everyone at work would see them. It could very well mean the end of her promising career in the publishing world. And Declan’s reputation would suffer.

She gathered the takeout bags to her chest and entered the building. Her heart ached; it was beating so painfully she couldn’t think. Charlie rode the elevator, dread increasing with every passing moment. What would she do? What was she supposed to do?

Declan was off the phone by the time she had gotten to his office. As soon as she walked in his door, he was at her side, concerned.

“Charlotte, you’re shivering. How long were you outside?” Declan took the bags from her hands, discarding them without a second glance. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”

“I’m just cold,” she stammered. “I ran into an old friend and chatted, not realizing how cold it was out. It’s fine, really.”

“You’re freezing. Let me take you home and get you into some fresh clothing. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

Charlie shook her head, stepping back. “You’ve a meeting you need to go to,” she said. “There’s no need for you to go with me.” I can go home, take a hot shower, change, and be back in an hour and a half. Promise.”

Declan shook his head no. “I don’t want you coming back in. Go home and get warm. I’ll be there as soon as my meeting is done.”

Charlie nodded, the cold gripping her more firmly and she shivered uncontrollably. She did her best to keep it together or he’d know that something was wrong. He buttoned up her coat and then rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “I’ll walk you down. Make sure to call me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She hated lying to him.

***

The bone-deep cold coupled with the enormity of the decision she faced began to unravel her. Charlie needed time to think. She needed time to think and figure this out. She had tonight and all of tomorrow before Katherine released the photos. If she didn’t agree to her demands, she’d destroy them both. Charlie couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She walked into the house, sat on the couch, trembling. Staring at the door, she waited, barely breathing, wondering when Declan would arrive, and if she could hide things from him. Charlie wanted to curl up in a ball and cry herself to sleep, then wake up in some other place far away. She wanted Declan there. Charlie needed him to wrap his arms around her, tell him about the blackmail, and have him tell her it would be okay. Charlie wished he could make this all go away. He was powerful, right? His family had money and yes … maybe …

No. Throwing money at Katherine wouldn’t work. No amount of money could convince her to change her mind, especially if she realized Charlie had told someone about the blackmail scheme. There was no possible way she could risk that. She just couldn’t.

***

Declan knocked on the door once more, before removing the spare key to Charlotte’s house from beneath the crazy Christmas gnome on the front porch. He let himself in and frowned when he saw that it was completely dark.

She must be asleep already. Was she coming down with something? He thought back to when they had gone into the office together that morning. She was bright, smiling. She didn’t seem sick before she’d left to retrieve lunch. What happened? What wasn’t she telling him? When she left the office, she looked tired. Had he been too hard on her? Was he the reason she was coming down with something? Dread pooled in his stomach. Was their relationship proving to be too much for her?

He stepped into the living room and turned on the lamp finding Charlotte fast asleep on the couch. A manuscript and a red marker lay on the table next to her, and blankets covered her from head to toe. He leaned in closer to her, intending to feel her for signs of a fever but instead discovered that her eyes were swollen from crying.

Checking his watch, he winced. Declan arrived much later than he’d planned on. It was past the dinner hour, and he wondered if she’d even eaten her lunch takeout. He walked into the small kitchen to find his answer on the counter. The bag was untouched. The box inside unopened. He cursed quietly. She needed to eat. Charlotte’s kitchen cabinets had food, but it was of little use to him. Declan knew how to burn water, but that was the extent of his culinary expertise. He picked up the phone and called in an order for delivery. After being assured his order would be delivered as quickly as possible, Declan ended the call, walking quietly back into the living room. Charlotte’s blankets had slid down, uncovering the upper half of her body, so Declan covered her back up, tucking the edges of the blanket under her body. He kissed her forehead lightly, pressing his lips against her skin to check for any sign of fever. She was warm, but not terribly.

The doorbell sounded, and Declan met the deliveryman at the door. He signed the card slip, thanked the man, and took the bag into the kitchen. He poured the steaming hot soup, Charlotte’s favorite Swiss Cheese Cauliflower, into a bowl, and placed the slices of pumpernickel toast to the side. He put the soup, toast, and drink on a tray and carried it into the living room, placing it on the table in front of her. Declan hated to wake her, but she needed to eat, and he needed to figure out if she needed medical attention.

“Charlotte,” he said in a hushed voice. “Charlotte, wake up, my dear, I brought you something to eat.”

Charlotte stirred, muttered a sleepy protest, and turned her head to the other side, her eyelids fluttering. “Charlotte. Wake up. You need to eat something. Please.”

She opened her eyes, and her sleepy stare encountered his. To Declan’s surprise, fear registered on her face, along with worry perhaps. What the hell was going on?

Charlotte yawned and sat up. She pulled the covers around her as though she were trying to protect herself. Declan fought the urge to demand answers right then. She seemed so fragile, like the night she’d seen that jackass, Griffin. He couldn’t possibly be a threat now though. He couldn’t possibly be quite that stupid, could he?

“There’s my sleepy girl,” Declan spoke in a gentle tone. “I ordered you some soup. Your favorite. I noticed you didn’t eat your lunch.”

Charlotte grimaced. “I was freezing. I couldn’t get warm. I just wanted to burrow under the blankets.”

“Are you feeling okay? It’s not like you to let takeout from Ciatti’s go to waste.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Seriously. As soon as I crawled under the blankets, I was so sleepy that I could barely keep my eyes open. But, I’m fine. I promise.”

Declan didn’t quite buy her story, but he wasn’t sure why. There was something off. Maybe he was overreacting. “Are you hungry?” he prompted.

Charlotte glanced over at the tray on the coffee table, nodding. “Absolutely. I’m starving.”

Declan held out his hand to help her as she started to get up and move forward. Charlotte laced her fingers through his, pulling herself to a sitting position on the edge. He watched her as she ate. The unquenchable urge to protect her from whatever had caused her distress grew with each passing minute.

Charlotte pushed off her cocoon of blankets when she finished eating. To Declan’s delight, she curled up tightly next to him, wrapping herself around him. Declan buried his nose in her hair, content to have her so close and safe.

“Thank you for the soup,” she said. “Will you hold me for a bit? It’s truly all I need to feel better.”

“Want to stay here or do you want to go to bed?” He stroked Charlotte’s hair as he spoke.

“Bed, I think.” Charlie burrowed her forehead against his neck. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Master. I don’t regret a moment I’ve spent with you since I agreed to be your submissive.”

She spoke so quietly, Declan almost didn’t hear her, and when he realized what she said joy gripped him in such a way that he couldn’t find the words to express it. Her statement seemed odd. Almost as if she were preparing to leave. Declan shook the thought from his head. He wouldn’t entertain that possibility. He’d eliminate any obstacle that would keep them apart.

“I’m glad I’m here too, my Charlotte.”

Chapter Eighteen

Charlotte pulled a coat on over her blouse and skirt as she prepared to leave for the office. The driver Declan hired would be there at any moment. Declan had left hours earlier, needing to be in the office for a breakfast meeting. She couldn’t fall back to sleep after he’d left. She spent most of yesterday in a stupor, shocked and afraid. Her state of panic hadn’t allowed her to think up a solution to her problems. And time was running out. It was time to meet with Katherine, who expected a publishing offer by the end of the week.

In the snowy hours of early Tuesday morning, Charlie weighed all her options, but the only one available was to convince Declan to publish the manuscript. She didn’t know if Katherine’s story had any literary merit or if it was marketable in any possible way. She also didn’t care because it wasn’t about that. Charlie needed to sell it to Declan to save them both. Still¸ she couldn’t go into the office blindly without at least reading some of Katherine’s writing. She flipped to a few pages in. It seemed to be a journal style of narrative.

Tonight I saw an incredible display of dominance, mastery, and control. And the man doing all of this was silent. He used hand signals and a baton, and he directed/conducted a stage full of brilliant musicians to perform stunning and complicated musical compositions.

He brought them to crescendo and denouement. He urged them forward then called them off as needed. He pulsed with passion and guided them as one complete organism in the most beautiful perfection of sound. I felt the notes scurry up my spine and warm my belly. I felt my soul soar and crash. I was breathless with desire.

My only wish …

That I had been talented enough to be on the other side of him.

Wow.

Now that … is beautiful dominance.

Charlie sat in shock. Katherine wrote this? The piece showed promise. She skimmed a few pages forward and kept reading.

Maestro banged the edge of his silver tipped black cane against the floor. Reverberation shimmied up my legs and clung to the tender insides of my thighs. I steeled myself against the echo in my heart.

I lifted my chin and placed my hand on the barre. Sharp little ticks sounded behind me as the other girls entered. The smell of lavender powder wafted gently around us in the glowing candlelight. Shiny black stilettos gleamed back from the mirror. We all stood on pointe in shoes clearly not designed for classical performance. Somehow, Maestro had managed to take the impossibly uncomfortable and turn it into elegant, liquid lust.

I remembered my audition well, how I’d stumbled like a newborn colt on shoes that frightened me. I laughed the first time someone told me about the Maestro’s ballet. And yet, there I was, standing in his studio office attempting to perform little steps like strings of pearls.

“It is not what you expected.”

His clipped speech stated a fact. There were no questions.

“You may speak.”

His quiet voice threw me off guard. I was out of my element. I feared him. I loved him. I adored his consistent cruelness. It wrapped around me and held me to the standard of perfection that I would never attain, except in my dreams.

“I am a classically trained ballerina.”

I wanted the words to come out harsh. The confidence I felt inside slid to the pit of my stomach and I could not look in his eyes.

“It is ok, to look, ma chere.”

I stood tall over him, the stilettos raising me up high on my toes. A smile tugged at his otherwise serious composure.

He nodded slightly and turned me gently toward the mirror. I placed my feet carefully and still felt clumsy as a teenager. Silently, he fingered the black silk ribbon at my throat. Wisps of honey hair framed my face and fell erratically from my top knot.

I saw a picture of someone else. His fingers danced lightly against the plunging neckline and his lips brushed the tip of my ear without words. The latex skirt flared beautifully ending at mid-thigh and the shoes gleamed in the semi-darkness. Black silk ribbons adorned my ankles as if these were legitimate dancing shoes. My mouth softened, and the edges blurred. My pulse quickened and suddenly discomfort disappeared. I became bound and held inside the second skin, wrapped in the ribbons that tethered me to shoes. He cradled me and lured me as his hands slid over my hips.

“It is beauty and discipline. You will fly, my bird, high above the rest.”

His cane hit the floor again, and its sharp stamp woke me from reverie.

“First girl, en avant!”

I flickered with the candles and moved forward. The divertissement began.

Katherine made Charlie’s job easy. Her work was stunningly beautiful. The prose painted tender yet dark imagery, and she knew Declan would be willing to offer a contract. Of course, he could never know Katherine had actually written it.

There was still snow in the air as the car wove through morning traffic. Charlie’s cell phone beeped, and she retrieved it from the pocket of her coat.

Unknown: Meet me at your home today. 1 PM. Don’t be late.

Charlie swallowed hard. She knew Katherine would follow through with her plan if Charlie didn’t follow her instructions to the letter. Clicking the phone off, Charlie caught a glimpse of the bruises Katherine had left on her wrist. The night before, when they’d gone to bed, Charlie left on her long sleeved Steelers shirt, citing that she was still cold. In reality, she hadn’t wanted Declan to take note of the bruises on her wrist from Katherine’s fingers. Declan would have most certainly noticed, forcing her to explain things before she had a chance to work out the details of her plan and come to peace with her decision.

Now she knew another plan was necessary. She didn’t trust Katherine and was concerned she might do her harm. She needed a way to let Declan know what was going on without Katherine knowing, and not before she had left to meet her. She pulled out the manuscript and quickly started marking it with her red Sharpie. When the driver pulled in front of the Pearse building, Charlie’s anxiety gave way to resolve. When she walked into the reception area in front of Declan’s office, she felt confident of her choice.

“Natalie, could you see to it that Mr. Pearse and I aren’t disturbed until he tells you otherwise,” Charlie said in a quiet voice. “I need his full attention this morning.”

“Of course,” Natalie replied.

Charlie headed in the direction of Declan’s office. The dread of what Katherine might do to her intensified with every step. Still, she needed to protect her family; she needed to protect Declan.

When she opened Declan’s door, he glanced up. When he realized it was her, he immediately rose from his desk. “Charlie, you could have stayed home. I know you aren’t feeling well. You should be in bed.”

Declan placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

“I’m feeling better. Very rested thanks to your amazing bedside manner,” she spoke calmly. “I do need to talk to you about something … About what really happened.”

Declan led her to the couch “Come sit, talk to me.”

As they moved toward the other side of the room, Charlie pulled her hand from his grasp.

“I can’t sit still, Declan. I’m too excited, too nervous. I just need to tell you and pray you aren’t too pissed off at me.”

“Tell me then, Charlotte.” He slid his arms up the sleeves of her coat, giving her a gentle squeeze. Charlie flinched, moving her arms away from his grasp.

“Take off your coat, Charlotte.” His brows furrowed.

Charlie hesitated, her breath blowing through her lips. Damn pale skin. You’re going to give it away, aren’t you?

Unwilling to wait, Declan stripped the coat from her shoulders and held her arm out so he could slide the sleeves down. As soon as the coat was off, he saw her wrist. He dragged her to the window where he could get a better look at the marks. “What the hell happened, Charlotte?” He demanded. “Who did this to you?”

“It is nothing really. You know how clumsy I am.”

“Charlotte, you and I both know your gracefully challenged status didn’t produce finger-sized bruises on your wrist.” His voice was low and menacing. “What the fuck is going on?”

“No. Of course not. I suppose I better start at the beginning,” she said barely above a whisper.

Charlie moved to place her hand on Declan’s chest. He was percolating with fury and she knew it.

“Yesterday, when I went to pick up our lunch, one of our authors stopped me on the street. I had been in contact with her several times without your knowledge. I am afraid I went behind your back and contacted an author of a manuscript that’s been sitting on your slush pile for months.”

“Is that why you have bruises on you?” Declan demanded. “Were you telling her that we weren’t going to publish it?”

“No, that’s not it. Her manuscript is amazing. I think we should publish it. I want to offer her a contract,” she choked out in frustration.

“Fuck, Charlotte, I don’t give a damn about a manuscript,” he responded explosively. “I’m more concerned about you. How did you get the bruises, Charlotte?”

“We got to talking in front of the building. I slipped on a patch of black ice, wearing my heels out instead of sensible footwear, and Ms. Rouseault was kind enough to stop my fall.” Charlotte pushed forward then, her expression pleading and earnest. “I think you haven’t been giving her a fair shake. I want you to look at her manuscript today. I want to be able to tell her the good news this afternoon.”

“Charlotte, my sweet darling Charlotte.” He spoke more calmly. “I’m not angry with you in the least. You should have just let me know. I would have gladly handed you everything in that pile on my desk.”

“I didn’t want to go behind your back,” she choked out. “You were out of the office that week, in Toronto, and Ms. Rouseault was so persistent. And her writing is so incredible, I just had to …” she swallowed hard, visibly making an effort to maintain composure. “I was worried you’d punish me for not asking permission.”

“Charlotte, work is not an area for me to assert my control over you,” Declan said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel that you can’t do your job properly because you’re worried I will retaliate when you push the envelope a bit.”

Declan leaned in and kissed her. As he pulled away, a sob erupted from Charlie’s throat. She could no longer hold it together. Tears flooded her eyes.

“Charlotte, my sweet girl, please don’t cry,” he said, reaching for her again.

“I was so scared.” She sobbed, “I didn’t want you to be disappointed with me.”

“Shhh, I could never be disappointed in you. Damn it. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have made it clear. In business matters, you are my employee not my submissive. You wouldn’t have had to go behind my back if I hadn’t been such a damned fool.”

“Will you consider my recommendation? I left you some notes in the manuscript.” Her face was blotchy and red from crying.

He cupped her head against him, stroking her hair. “I will. I promise. Right after my lunch meeting. You have my word on it.”

“Thank you, Declan.”

Declan kissed her hair, and then carefully pulled her upright. “Charlotte, go freshen up. Take as long as you need. I don’t want anyone seeing you upset like this. It would raise a lot of questions. As soon as you’re ready, I want you to go back home and rest. I will pick you up after work.”

***

The ride home was uneventful. Was this a bad idea? That’s all she could think about at the moment. A parade could have passed in front of them, and it wouldn’t have caught her attention. Katherine had texted her during the commute, and she asked if Charlie was on her way yet so she could wait across the street for her.

Or rather, she hadn’t asked. She demanded Charlie already be on her way. “You better be on your way or else,” she texted. A brief thought flitted through Charlie’s mind. If she told someone and they caught Katherine across the street, how could she publish the photos to the Internet? The thought dissolved as soon as it had appeared though. Charlie didn’t want to underestimate Katherine. She had no idea if the publishing contract was Katherine’s goal or if it was part of some elaborate scheme. Did she have a partner? What if all it took was a quick phone call to insure the photos went public if something went wrong on Katherine’s end?

“Ms. Flynn,” Declan’s driver said, releasing her from her daydream. “We’re here.”

Charlie snapped to attention, muttering her thanks. “Thank you, Edwards.”

“Shall I see you to the door, Ms. Flynn?”

Charlie shook her head. “It’s not necessary, but thank you.” She took out her phone, composing a short text to Declan. She arranged for the text to arrive on his phone at quarter to five, knowing it would give him enough time to finish his meeting, and also her enough time to cancel the text if her suspicions proved to be unfounded. Her gaze darted to the clock on her phone. It was ten minutes before one. This is it; this is all the time I have.

Half walking and half stumbling up the snowy path, Charlie made her way onto the porch. She put her key in the lock, frowning when she realized Mikki must have forgotten to lock it. They all needed to be more careful. Her sweaty hand touched the doorknob and slid when she first went to open it. Swallowing hard, she wiped her clammy palm on the side of her coat, opening the door. A frown tugged at her lips as she pushed inside, closing and locking the door behind her. The minute she stepped inside the living room, she realized she wasn’t alone.

Charlie’s breath caught when she saw Katherine and Griffin standing, waiting, grim expressions on their faces.

“Nervous are we?” Katherine spoke in a tone that sent shivers down her spine.

Charlie managed to nod. “Yes, a little.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will be fine given you have what I came for. Do you have it?”

Charlie could barely remember if she’d brought the initial agreement with her. Did she even create one? It seemed so long ago even though she’d left the office forty minutes ago. “Yes, I have it with me.”

“Good. Let’s have it.”

Charlie forced herself to smile and nod. She didn’t want Katherine to be able to gauge anything more than a perceived nervousness. “All right.”

“Good job,” Katherine said. “But, I am still not entirely satisfied. There’s one more thing I want you to do for me.”

“Katherine, I did as you asked. I’m not going to manipulate Declan any further.”

“You’re right about that. We are going to make sure you don’t have anything to do with Declan again.”

Charlie was about to answer her when a set of hands reached out, pulling her further into the living room. “Griffin!” she screamed. He sported a giant bandage across his forehead, and he grinned maniacally, pulling her close to him.

“My sweet slave,” he said, breathing harshly into her ear. “You’ll never see that bastard again. He has it coming to him, after what he’s done to Kat and me.” His gaze raked over her body, and he licked his lips. “As for you, my dear, I do believe I still owe you a punishment, don’t I?”

No. No … Katherine and Griffin together? I want to go back and explain everything to Declan and get out of all this, but it was now impossible.

“First things first,” Griffin said, spinning Charlie around and grabbing something off the table. “Put your hands behind your back, you stupid slut.”

Frightened, Charlie did as he asked. Without a moment’s hesitation, Griffin trapped her arms, wrapping her wrists in duct tape. He shoved her onto the couch. She fell, her face pushed into the cushions. Charlie quietly sobbed into the soft material, not wanting to anger Griffin any further, but he saw her and heard her weeping despite her attempts to quell it.

“What the fuck are you crying for?”

“Why … Why are you doing this?” Charlie asked.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Please. Please tell me what I’ve done,” she whispered.

“I am not going to bargain with you. You’re still my slave, and you will do whatever I want, no matter what it is.”

“Please,” Charlie pleaded once more. “Griffin, I … ” Thoughts battled it out in her mind against the horror she felt. “Sir,” she spoke, coughing out the word. “Please?”

Griffin stared at her, eyes dark and malicious. Rubbing the bandage on his forehead, he groaned. “Enough! Kat, I’m sick of her stupid mouth. It’s time we did something about it.”

Before she could demand to know what he was talking about, pain exploded through her body. She lay face down on the couch, utterly bewildered. And then pain, more pain, agonizing, splintering through her body as he meted out his violent punishment.