I want him. Despite everything, I want him, and that’s the most screwed-up thing of all. He’s probably going to do something awful to me, but I still want him more than I could’ve ever imagined wanting anyone.

In for a penny, in for a pound. “Did you do this to Maria?” I ask quietly. “Did you also keep her as your pet?”

He looks at me, his eyes as blue and mysterious as the ocean. “Are you sure you want to go there, Nora?” His voice is soft, deceptively calm.

I stare at him, feeling uncharacteristically reckless. “Why, yes, Julian, I do.” My tone is bitterly sarcastic, and I realize that part of my boldness stems from jealousy, that I hate the idea of this Maria being special to Julian. But even that realization is not enough to stop me. “Who is she? Some other girl you abused?”

His expression darkens, and I hold my breath, waiting to see what he would do now. In a way, I want to provoke him. I want him to punish me, to hurt me. I want it because I need him to be nothing more than a monster—because I need to hate him for the sake of my sanity.

He walks over and sits down on the bed next to me. I fight the urge to flinch when he reaches for me and wraps his strong fingers around my neck. Gripping my throat, he leans over and brushes his cheek against mine, back and forth, as though enjoying the soft texture of my skin against the roughness of his stubble-covered jaw. His fingers don’t squeeze, but the threat is there, and I can feel myself shaking, my breathing speeding up in terrified anticipation.

He chuckles softly, and I feel the gust of air against my ear. Despite his weary appearance, his breath is fresh and sweet, as though he had just been chewing gum. I close my eyes, trying to convince myself that Julian wouldn’t really kill me, that he’s just toying with me right now.

He kisses my ear, nibbling lightly on my earlobe. His touch in that sensitive area sends pleasurable chills down my spine, and my breathing changes again, becomes slower and deeper as I get more aroused. I can smell the warm, musky scent of his skin, and my nipples tighten, reacting to his nearness. The ache between my thighs is growing, and I squirm a little, trying to relieve the pressure building inside me.

“You want me, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear, slipping his hand under the skirt of my dress and lightly stroking my sex. I know he can feel the moisture there, and I suppress a moan as one long finger pushes inside me, rubbing against my slick inner wall. “Don’t you, Nora?”

“Yes.” I gasp as he touches a particularly sensitive spot.

“Yes, what?” His voice is harsh, demanding. He wants my complete surrender.

“Yes, I want you,” I admit in a broken whisper. I can’t deny it any longer. I want Julian. I want the man who kidnapped me, who hurt me. I want him, and I hate myself for it.

He withdraws his finger then and lets go of my throat. Startled, I open my eyes and meet his gaze. He lifts his hand to my face, pressing his finger against my lips. It’s the same finger that was just inside me. “Suck it,” he orders, and I obediently open my mouth, sucking the finger in. I can taste myself, my own desire, and it makes me even more turned on.

When he’s satisfied that the finger is clean, he removes it from my mouth, grasping my chin with his hand instead, forcing me to meet his gaze. I stare up at him, mesmerized by the dark blue striations in his irises. My body is throbbing with need, desperately craving his possession. I want him to take me, to fill the aching emptiness within.

But all he does is look at me, a mocking half-smile playing on his beautiful lips. “You think I’m going to punish you tonight, Nora?” he asks softly. “Is that what you’re expecting me to do?”

I blink, startled by the question. Of course I expect him to do that. I did something that upset him, and he’s not shy about hurting me when I’m on my best behavior.

Apparently reading the answer on my face, he smiles wider. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, my pet, but I’m far too exhausted to do your punishment justice tonight. All I want right now is your mouth.” And with that, he fists his hand in my hair and pushes me down, so that I’m kneeling between his legs, his erection at my eye level.

“Suck it,” he murmurs, looking down at me. “Just like you did my finger.”

I’m no stranger to blow-jobs, having given quite a few to my ex-boyfriend, so I know what to do. I close my lips around the thick column of his shaft and swirl my tongue around the tip. He tastes a little salty, a little musky, and I look up, watching his face as I cup his balls in my hand and squeeze them lightly. He groans, his eyes closing and his hand tightening in my hair, and I continue, moving my mouth up and down on his cock, swallowing him deeper every time.

For some reason, I don’t mind pleasuring him this way. In fact, I find it strangely enjoyable. Even though it’s an illusion, I feel like he’s at my mercy at the moment, that I am the one who has the power right now. I love the helpless groans that escape his throat as I use my hands, my lips, and my tongue to bring him to the very brink of orgasm before slowing down. I love the agonized expression on his face when I take his balls into my mouth and suck on them, feeling them tightening in my mouth. I love the way he shudders when I lightly scrape my fingernails on the underside of his balls, and when he finally explodes, I love the way he grabs my head, holding me in place as he comes, his cock pulsing and throbbing in my mouth.

When he releases me, I lick my lips, cleaning off the traces of semen while looking up at him the whole time.

He stares down at me, still breathing heavily. “That was good, Nora.” His voice is low and raspy. “Very good. Who taught you to do that?”

I shrug. “It’s not like I was a nun before I met you,” I say without thinking.

His eyes narrow, and I realize that I just made a mistake. This is a man who seems to revel in the fact that he was my first, who likes the idea that I belong to him and only to him. Any references to ex-boyfriends are best kept to myself.

To my relief, he doesn’t seem inclined to punish me for this transgression either. Instead, he pulls me up, back onto the bed. Then he undresses me, turns off the light, and puts his arm around me, holding me close as he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

My punishment doesn’t take place until the following night. Julian again spends the day in his office, and I don’t see him until dinnertime.

For some reason, I’m not as frightened as I was before. The little interlude last night—and sleeping in Julian’s arms afterwards—soothed my anxiety, making me think the punishment won’t be as bad as I’d initially feared. He didn’t seem particularly angry that I’d found out about Maria, which is a big relief. I hope he’ll forgo punishing me altogether, particularly if I do my best to behave today.

The three of us have dinner again, and I listen to Julian and Beth discussing the latest developments in the Middle East. It surprises me how well informed both of them seem to be about the topic. Before my kidnapping, I was pretty good about following current events, but I’ve never heard most of the politicians’ names they’re mentioning. Then again, if Julian really does run an international import-export company, then it makes sense for him to have his finger on the pulse of world politics.

My curiosity gets the best of me again, and I ask if Julian’s company does a lot of business in the Middle East.

He smiles at me as he spears a piece of shrimp with his fork. “Yes, my pet, it does.”

“Is that where you went on this trip?”

“No,” he says, biting into the juicy shrimp. “I was in Hong Kong this time.”

I make a mental note of that. Hong Kong had to be close enough to the island for him to fly there, conduct his business, and fly back—all within two days. I picture a map of the Pacific Ocean in my head. It’s a bit fuzzy, as geography is not my strong point, but I think this island must not be that far from the Philippines.

Beth offers me some curried potatoes to go with my shrimp, and I take them, thanking her with a smile. I’ve noticed that we get more food variety shortly after Julian comes back from the mainland. I’m guessing he brings us food supplies from wherever he goes to.

Beth smiles back at me, and I see that she’s in a good mood. In general, she seems happier when Julian is here, more lighthearted. I’m sure it’s not fun for her, dealing with my attitude all the time. One could almost feel bad for her—‘almost’ being the key word.

“I’ve never been to Asia,” I tell Julian. “Is Hong Kong really how they show it in movies?”

Julian grins at me. “Pretty much. It’s amazing. Probably one of my favorite cities. The architecture is fascinating, and the food . . .” He makes a show of licking his lips. “The food is just to die for.” He rubs his belly, and I laugh, charmed despite myself.

The rest of the dinner passes in the same pleasant manner. Julian tells me amusing stories about the different places he’s been to in Asia, and I listen in fascination, occasionally gasping and laughing at some of the more outrageous tales. Beth sometimes chimes in, but for the most part, it’s as though it’s just Julian and me, having fun on a date.

Like that time when we had dinner alone, I find myself falling under Julian’s spell. He’s more than charming; he’s simply mesmerizing. His allure goes beyond his looks, although I can’t deny the physical attraction between us. When he laughs or gives me one of his genuine smiles, I feel a warm glow, like he’s the sun and I’m basking in his rays. Everything about him appeals to me—the way he talks, how he gestures to emphasize a point, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins at me. He’s also an excellent storyteller, and three hours simply fly by as he entertains me with tales of his adventures in Japan, where he once lived for a year as a teenager.

I don’t want this dinner to end, so I try to stretch it out as much as I can, helping myself to second, third, and fourth helpings of the fruit Beth prepared as dessert. I’m sure Julian is aware of my delaying tactics, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Finally, everything has been eaten, and Beth gets up to wash the dishes. Julian smiles at me, and for the first time this evening, I feel a flicker of fear. I can again sense that dark undercurrent in his smile, and I realize that it’s been present all along—that it’s always there with Julian. The charming man that I’ve just spent three hours with is about as real as a figment of my imagination.

Still smiling, he offers me his hand. It’s a courtly gesture, but I can’t help the chill that runs down my spine as I see a familiar gleam in his blue eyes. He again looks like a dark angel, his sublime beauty tinted with a faint shadow of evil.

Swallowing to get rid of the sudden knot in my throat, I place my hand in his and let him lead me upstairs. It’s better this way, more civilized. It allows me to pretend for a few moments longer—to hold on to the illusion of having a choice.

When we enter my room, he has me undress and lie down on the bed, on my stomach. Then he ties me up again, binding my wrists tightly behind my back. A blindfold goes over my eyes, and pillows under my hips. It’s the exact same position in which he took me last time, and I can’t help tensing as I remember the agony—and the ecstasy—of his possession.

Is that what he’s going to do? Have anal sex with me again? If so, it’s not that bad. I survived the last time, and I’m sure I’ll be fine again.

So when I feel the coolness of lube between my cheeks, I try to relax, to let him do whatever he wants. A toy slides in, the invasion startling but not particularly painful. I can definitely tolerate it. As before, he leaves the toy inside me as he gives me a massage, relaxing me, arousing me with his touch. He kisses the back of my neck, nibbles on the sensitive spot near my shoulder, and then his mouth travels down my spine, kissing each vertebrae. At the same time, his finger slips into my vaginal opening, adding to the tension coiling low in my belly.

My release, when it comes, is so powerful that I buck against the mattress, my entire body shuddering and convulsing. While I’m recovering from the aftershocks, Julian withdraws his finger, and I feel cool air on my back as he leans away from me for a second.

The lick of fire along my buttocks is as sharp as it is sudden. Startled, I cry out, trying to twist away, but I don’t get far, and the second hit is even more painful than the first, landing on my thighs. He’s whipping me with something, I realize. I don’t know what it is, but I can hear the swish in the air as he brings it down on my defenseless ass, again and again while I sob and try to roll away.