My Sweet Songbird: Requested Trilogy - Part Three Page 2

  “There.” He looks over me with pride, as though he’s pleased with his handy work. “Looks like Father was wrong. We never needed Ryker, after all.”

  Lowering himself, he inhales deeply, his eyes stuck on where my chest heaves with the recent exertion. Tears leak from my eyes and trail down my cheeks, soaking into the satin pillowcase. He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.

  “Don’t worry, my sweet songbird, I will set you free again once you’ve learned to behave. I’ve been waiting so long for you it’s almost painful to have you stretched out like this beneath me and not take what is mine, but I can wait a little longer. In fact, there’s almost something precious about it, don’t you think? Taming the wildness out of you? Father said I couldn’t do it. He said I didn’t have the patience and that I would destroy you within days, that I wouldn’t be able to control my anger. But look at us here together. We are perfect.”

  I press my eyes closed as he hovers over me, not wanting to witness what comes next. But then the bed jostles, he hops off and I open my eyes again to find him standing in the open doorway. He blows me a kiss before shutting the door.

  As soon as he’s gone, I twist and thrash, attempting to release my restraints but the harder I try, the tighter the material twists. My screams come out muffled and muted by the material in my mouth. I kick into the air, heaving my body off the bed and trying to unhook the ties of the material around the bedposts. But it is all useless. I’m trapped here just like I was before, but this time my wrists are bound with silk instead of chain.

  He leaves me for hours lying on the bed, my arms stretched wide and my breathing restricted by the gag. My mind keeps going back to that feeling of safety that washed over me when I saw Sebastian pull to the side of the road and chase after who I thought was my requestor. It was nothing but an elaborate ruse to prove that Sebastian got a kick out of his cruelty.

  But this time I’m not going to give in. This time I will fight and I will scream. I will kick and claw and bite. I will do everything to set myself free. I will breathe through the pain that he will throw my way, and I will set myself free. I’ve done it once before. I can do it again.

  I scan the room, looking for a camera watching me but find nothing. Compared to my cell, this room is heaven, but none of it matters. Looks can be deceiving. Sometimes hell can pose as heaven.

  Fear threatens to overwhelm me as panic sets in again. There’s nothing I can do but wait for Sebastian to come back. There’s no escape, no hope, only fear.

  As I let myself cry, my mind goes to Ryker and I cry for him as well. Sebastian never confirmed if he was dead or alive, but his words gave me little hope of the latter. I had pushed aside what I had done because of what I had gained. Freedom. But now, lying here in a gilded cage, the knowledge that it was all for nothing weighs heavily on me. What I wouldn’t give for the door to creep open and for it to be Ryker who walked in. I would fall to my knees. I would kiss his feet if that’s what he wanted.

  But instead, all I can do is cry.

  Cry for Ryker.

  Cry for the life stolen from me.

  Cry for the girl I’ll never become.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MIA

  “Are you going to behave?”

  Sebastian stands beside the bed as I nod to promises I don’t intend to keep. He peers into my eyes as though doubting me before reaching behind and untying the knot at the back of my head. Then he pulls the material from my mouth slowly and I breathe deeply, relishing the way my lungs fill with air, and the saliva that instantly coats my dry mouth. But I’m still tied to the bed, stretched with my hands reaching toward the edges. His hair is disheveled, and his eyes are wild, giving him a crazed look. His skin is white like porcelain and his eyes are a pale electric blue while everything else about him is dark. He doesn’t look at my face, but instead, his eyes rake over me painfully as though his gaze is an icicle pressed to my skin. The material around my chest has bunched with efforts to free myself and my breasts are dangerously exposed from the plunging neckline. Small buttons line the material from top to bottom and he reaches out to toy with the top one, releasing it and letting the material fall open just that little bit more.

  “Are you hungry?”

  I nod.

  “Speak!” he barks sharply, his fingers growing impatient with the next button and yanking the material roughly. A few of them break open at once.

  I lift my chin a little. “I thought you didn’t want me to speak. Isn’t that the point of your command phrase?”

  “That was more for Ryker than me, but yes, when I use it I expect you to be silent. But I didn’t, did I? Now, are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” I reply, resisting the urge to squirm as he brushes a finger over the swell of my breast. Beneath the dress I am bare. There’s no underwear to shield me once the buttons are undone and the material falls to the side. His finger catches against my skin and my breast sways. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, his eyes darkening.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He speaks in a reverent tone, his voice a hushed whisper. His finger pushes against my nipple and a faint ripple of pleasure begins to coil in my belly. I close my eyes and beg it to go, determined for my body not to betray me like it did with Ryker. Just the thought of him makes my heart trip and my chest swell. Sebastian mistakes my body’s reaction, believing it to be him that drew my response. A smile slowly pulls at the corners of his mouth and he bends his head, running his tongue between my breasts and leaving the flesh cool and moist.

  “So beautiful and all mine.” His tongue drags over my skin, lapping over my curves until he reaches my nipple. And then he bites. Just a small bite, a hint of pain, but enough for me to gasp. His eyes, aflame with desire, bounce back to mine. His fingers begin to fumble with the buttons of my dress again, moans of frustration falling from his lips at their daintiness.

  “I’ve waited for so long. Too long. Did you know Ryker used to send me videos of you?” His fingers are working feverishly now, almost trembling with anticipation as the buttons fall open. “I used to watch you and masturbate. Did you know? Could you feel it when I thought of you?”

  Once all the buttons are undone, he grabs the edges of the dress and rips it open. His eyes rake over my body hungrily as he kneels at my feet. Picking up my foot, he holds my heel in his hand as he presses his lips to my toes. It takes everything within me not to lash out and kick him. I grit my teeth and try to block his actions out as he works his way up my leg, spacing kisses along my flesh, up the inside of my thigh, over the bones of my hips and finally comes to rest with his face buried between my legs, inhaling deeply. Tears leak as he presses his body heavily on top of me. His cock pushes into my legs, firm and hard and a small whimper of panic escapes my lips. But he mistakes it for desire and lifts his head, a smile creeping over his face once again.

  “I know, my sweet songbird, I know,” he croons. “But patience is a virtue, or that’s what my mother keeps telling me. Personally, I hadn’t found it to be much use until recently.”

  He continues his way up my body, placing kisses and dragging his tongue over my skin in between speaking. “But I had patience when you ran. I watched and waited in the shadows, all the while knowing that you would be mine. Could you feel me watching? Did you know I was there?”

  I’m concentrating on my breathing; it’s the only thing distracting me from him, from his movements which are gentle and sweet, fooling my body into thinking this is something it wants.

  “Did you?”

  His voice is so loud, my eyes fly open and I find his face hovering directly over mine. “Well, did you?” He presses a kiss to my neck, sucking on the soft flesh and nibbling at my earlobe.

  It’s what I’ve been waiting for. A chance to show him how I feel. Show him that I’m not his, or at least that I won’t be without a fight.

  Pulling my head off the pillow, I snake out and bite his ear, laughing gleefully when I feel the resistance of his flesh, and blood pools in m
y mouth.

  He jerks back, clutching at his ear, shock showing on his face. “You fucking bitch!” he hisses. Pulling his hands away, he looks at them curiously, rubbing the blood between his fingers.

  I spit, and it lands on his face, stained with pink. But he’s transfixed by the sight of the blood between his fingers and barely notices. As he rubs his fingers over and over, his eyes slowly move back to me and I go cold at the darkness contained in them.

  He slaps me and pain ricochets across my cheek. His eyes are wild and gleam with a reddish tone from the lamp beside the bed. He slaps me again, this time on the other cheek, and I can’t help but cry out. It’s a sharp pain, a stinging pain that reverberates through my brain, making it feel as though it’s knocking against the sides of my skull.

  He hits me again. And again. And again, until my face goes numb with pain. With his body holding mine in place and the ties around my wrists, there is no hope of escape from the demented look in his eyes. Something breaks within and fear slices through me in a way I haven’t felt since Marcel.

  “Stop,” I say. “Please stop.”

  But he hits me again and my head is jerked to the side with the force of it. His hand is covered in blood but I’m not sure if it is his or mine. He holds it in front of his face, turning it over and inspecting it intently. Then he looks back at me and starts to unbutton his shirt, taking his time to release each button slowly, his tongue darting out to run over his lips.

  I start to toss and twist beneath him but it just causes him to laugh maniacally and run his hand through his hair and down his chest as his feigned moans of ecstasy fill the air. Then he tears his shirt off and tosses it to the floor, his pants following suit. He pounces back on top of me, blood streaked across his pale chest. His mouth falls to my breast, swirling around my nipple, toying with it as he writhes on top of me. With his other hand, he twists the nipple of my other breast painfully between his finger and thumb.

  The tears are falling freely now, and sobs escape me. Abruptly, he sits up, scooting his body further up mine until his backside rests over my pelvis and his cock lays heavily on my stomach. He strokes my cheek almost affectionately.

  “So beautiful. Your tears are so beautiful.” His fingers run over my face, tripping on my bottom lip and snaking down my neck until they wrap around my throat.

  Involuntarily, my head starts to shake. “No,” I plead as his fingers grip tighter. “No, no, no.” But my words are cut off as he pushes so tight the pain almost paralyzes me. He looks straight into my eyes as he wraps his other hand around his hard cock and begins to stroke. He grunts and he groans as he works himself. His knees are pressed into my sides, and his fingers dig into my throat so violently black begins to form at the edges of my vision.

  I am powerless to stop any of it.

  My hands are bound. His body holds mine in place. I cannot escape. All I can hope for is him to finish before I pass out.

  I become desperate, thrashing beneath him in one last effort to free myself but it only excites him more and his motions become more feverish, his hands wrapping tighter around both his cock and my neck. The darkness at the edge of my vision starts to creep further, blacking everything out except for his eyes. They shine so brightly, yet so coldly as they watch me fade away beneath him. Then, just as I’m sure I’m about to lose consciousness, he cries out, releasing both himself and me. Sticky warmness splatters over my stomach and breasts as I cough and splutter, sucking in desperate breaths of air.

  Without a word, Sebastian lifts himself from me and walks out the door, leaving his sperm and blood covering my body.

  As soon as the door closes I let out a blood-curdling scream, not caring that it rips my vocals cords and causes pain to shoot up my throat. And then I dissolve into a fit of tears and frustrated screams and thrashing legs. I tug and pull at my restraints until my wrists cry out in protest and the sockets of my arms ache.

  But there is no point. I’m trapped with the scent of him invading my nostrils and the feel of him heavy on my body.

  He doesn’t leave me long, walking back in smelling of soap and freshness and wearing only a pair of black silk pajama pants. His body looks as though it’s been etched from marble, hard, cold and pale. He walks toward the window without a glance my way, ripping open the curtains and staring out at the moon.

  “I’ve arranged for some makeup to be delivered.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the door opens again and another man walks in. He’s carrying a stacked pile of boxes but that still doesn’t stop his eyes from raking over me, taking in the smears of blood and cum on my stomach. I turn my head away choosing to look at the wall rather than either of them. But I can’t keep it up for long, needing to know where they are, what they are doing.

  “Just place them down here.” Sebastian nods to a space on the floor and the man places the boxes down before backing out of the room, his eyes flicking to mine just once. I think I see a fraction of compassion in his expression. Or maybe I’m just imagining it. Then a memory flashes through my mind. The night at the bar, the eyes gleaming in the darkness, the face of the man who chased me down the street.

  “It was you,” I say, my eyes widening.

  He doffs an imaginary hat. “Pleasure doing business with you, little lady.”

  And then he’s gone, leaving me alone with Sebastian.

  “Tomorrow you will dress yourself and do your makeup. I want you to look your best at all times. I want your makeup perfect. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” It hurts when I speak.

  Sebastian nods once, even though he’s not facing me and pulls the curtains closed again. Walking over to the bed he tosses the blankets open and crawls under the covers, huddling close to me but not touching.

  Sniffing away my tears, I clear my throat hesitantly. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  Sebastian sighs deeply before reaching up and undoing the knot stretched to his side of the bed. I pull my arm to my chest as he walks to the other side. Once I’m free, I lift my legs over the side of the bed, standing shakily and walking over to the bathroom door. The bathroom is decorated in black and gold just like the bedroom. There’s a deep bath and a wide shower. Everything is pristine and clean.

  “Don’t close the door,” Sebastian says, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and watching me.

  I make my way over to the mirror and stare at my reflection. My cheeks are red and swollen and there’s blood smeared across them, but surprisingly he hasn’t broken the skin. Red welts bruise my neck. One of my breasts shows the marks of his teeth and my stomach is smeared with him. My eyes are glassy and red. My chin wobbles.

  I’ve never seen this girl before.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MIA

  Sebastian lay beside me for the entire night, ensuring I didn’t get a wink of sleep. He had let me clean myself and crawl under the blankets of the bed but tied my wrists back up.

  He slept quietly and soundly beside me, his chest falling and rising in the moonlight, his dreams filled with only good things. When he closed his eyes, he didn’t see what I saw. His mind wasn’t taken back to that feeling of him on top of me, that trapped and heavy feeling of dread. He didn’t replay the feel of his seed splattering over my stomach time and time again.

  Or maybe he did.

  But when he woke the next morning, he almost bounded out of bed, stretching into the air, his muscles tight and taut, then bent over to place a kiss on my cheek. Annoyance flicked through his eyes when I flinched, but he didn’t retaliate. Not this time.

  When he left for breakfast, I thought he might allow me to eat something, but he told me I could eat when I learned to behave. My stomach growls at the thought of it. I haven’t eaten since the night before I was taken.

  He did untie me before he left, instructing me to get ready for the day, shower, get dressed, do my makeup and hair. But instead of a shower, I fill the bath with scalding hot water and lower myself into it, wincing as the heat
stings my flesh. But it’s a pain I need to wash him away. I want to burn the memory of him from my skin, no part remaining. But I can’t burn him from my mind. Each time I close my eyes, I’m taken back to his hand wrapped around my neck, the noises he made as he came, the darkness that threatened to overwhelm me.

  I long for Ryker to burst through the door and take me in his arms, rescue me from this hellhole which is so much worse than the cell he held me in.

  I stay in the bath until the water turns cold and my body trembles. Only then do I get out and dry myself, choosing another red dress from the selection in the wardrobe and pulling it over my shoulders robotically. Then I sit at the vanity dresser and begin to open the boxes of makeup. There is so much, and I don’t know what most of it is. I have never worn much makeup before. A tinted moisturizer and a lick of mascara was about it. Roxy often teases me about it, saying it makes her sick that I don’t need it. Roxy who loves makeup. Roxy who loves to dress up.

  I wonder where she is and what she’s thinking. Does she have any idea of who her boyfriend really is?

  She’s never said too much other than he is good in bed. But she does get this look in her eyes, this faraway look, a look of longing when she speaks about him. She says it’s only casual, but I know she hoped for more.