The Runaway Bride - A Captive Flame Book One (5 page)

“Y-yes! Yes, I
understand!” The words left me in a rush. The man released my
breast, and I thought, seeing the smile on his lips, the warmth in
his eyes, that this was more than just a life philosophy to him—I
glanced down and saw the ridge of an erection in his pants and knew
that he was turned on as well.

“Tell me why I just
punished you.” He reached down between my legs once more and began
to rub me—this time his fingertips found my clit immediately, even
through the fabric of my panties, and I gasped and moaned and
shuddered as he stroked the sensitive bead. He stopped when a few
moments had passed without me speaking, and squeezed my other
breast until I cried out again. “Answer me, Rhonda.” I gripped the
arms of the chair tightly, digging my fingernails into the hard
wood and pulling against the bindings until the pain cleared my
head.

“Because… because I
sneaked onto your plane uninvited,” I said, fumbling and struggling
with words. “I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have stowed away. It was
very bad.” He started stroking me again, and as I writhed on the
chair, trying to get better contact, the clips on my nipples
trembled, sending little electric jolts through me. “I’ll never do
it again—oh god, don’t stop! More, please!” The man withdrew his
fingers abruptly, leaving me on the edge of orgasm, shivering with
the need for release—ready to submit to any degree of torture just
so long as he would get me off.

“You are not in a
position to make demands of me,” the man told me curtly. He stood
back and admired the shaking of my body, the utterly helpless
position I was in, his eyes full of arousal and pleasure. He took a
deep breath and reached out towards me; I thought for a moment that
he might possibly finally give me the relief I craved. Instead he
unclipped my nipples, slipping the chain back into his pocket. The
relief flooded through me and I moaned, helpless and needy, a plea
for more attention on the tip of my tongue. Instead of punishing me
further, or even giving me what I really wanted, however, he
started to untie the ropes that bound me to the chair. He tugged
the ropes around my shoulders free, and then my wrists. Blood
flowed into my hands, and then into my feet, and I sagged against
the chair, for a moment unable to do anything but luxuriate in my
sudden freedom. My skin crackled and burned where the flogger had
hit me; my breasts ached, my nipples throbbed. My pussy was tight
and soaking wet, ready—needing to be filled. But he sat down
instead, closing his eyes for a moment and regained the little bit
of composure he had lost.

“We are making our
final approach to the airport, sir. We’ll be landing in twenty
minutes.” I looked around, feeling flushed all over, and realized I
was still all but naked.

“Get dressed,” the
man said, his voice soft and pleasant but almost devoid of any real
emotion. I felt crushed with disappointment, but I knew as soon as
we landed, everything would be over. It would be nothing more than
a memory to call upon once I found my way to a hotel or somewhere I
could crash—but I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of
myself once I was somewhere private once more. I pulled my bra up
and slipped into the garish, ridiculous-looking clothes I’d bought,
bundling my ruined wedding dress into the bag once more and sat
down as the plane began to shake and rattle with the turbulence of
landing. The mysterious man didn’t so much as look at me as the
plane finished its descent, waiting until the lights came up,
signaling that he could move about the cabin once more, and then
standing abruptly.

I grabbed my bag and
was off of the jet in a matter of moments, bewildered and not quite
sure of where I was or what I should do. The man stopped me.
“Rhonda.” I stopped in my tracks; a sudden apprehension that he’d
managed to call the police or something. Instead, he was standing
behind me, holding two envelopes. He extended them to me. “Take a
look inside of each of them, and make a choice between your two
options.” He started away from me, towards a limousine that was
parked adjacent to the jet. Cargo workers were unloading the plane
into the trunk of the limo, oblivious to my existence. I looked
down at the two envelopes; they were both unmarked, and for a
moment I was completely confused—I thought to myself that the day,
which had started out with so much certainty, was definitely ending
in a way that I would never in a million years have guessed at.

Chapter Four

~

I
opened the first envelope. Inside of it was a check—hastily
scribbled on, but with a sum of money written in on the proper
lines that for a moment utterly shocked me, made out to me by name.
I looked in the envelope again and saw a scrap of paper. I took the
paper out and unfolded it; in the same hasty but still legible
hand, I read the note.
Rhonda: this check will pay for a flight on the private jet
you just left anywhere in the country—wherever you wish to
go.
I swallowed,
wondering what kind of man would just hand someone thousands upon
thousands of dollars when they had just caught that person sneaking
around on their plane, hitching an illegal ride. The plane itself
had given me a strong impression that the mystery man who had
punished me certainly had means and was not afraid of anyone—but
the simplicity of just writing me a check for such a large sum of
money was nonetheless a little staggering. But that left another
option.

I
opened the second envelope. At first I thought there was nothing in
it—but when I pulled it farther open I saw that there was a
business card inside. I pulled it out and turned it over.
Krystopher Danes,
it read.
CEO, Danes
Enterprises.
The
name rang a bell, and for a moment I stared at the card,
remembering that the man on the plane had seemed oddly familiar to
me. All at once it hit me. Danes Enterprises was a company that the
law firm I worked for had done business with a few months before.
I’d had to pull longer shifts than usual on the case—legal
secretaries ended up being the first ones to have to stay late,
since we were paid the least overall—and the name, Krystopher
Danes, had been on at least a dozen of the documents I’d gone over.
I remembered looking him up online, though I couldn’t remember
specifically what he had looked like. It added up. I almost laughed
at the unexpected connection; if only I could tell the women in the
office what had happened to me.

I remembered reading
about Danes. The man was completely mysterious—I’d tracked his
personal life as far back as I possibly could, and it seemed as if
he had appeared out of nowhere. He was a self-made billionaire, and
notoriously reclusive, barely showing up in the tabloids, almost
never commenting on anything at all. He wasn’t like other one
percenters, shooting his mouth off whenever the press afforded him
the opportunity; on the contrary, he avoided the press entirely.
The law firm I worked for had gotten such great results in part
because Krystopher simply didn’t want to deal with the publicity;
at least that was what one of the partners had told me.

The choice hung
before me. I could get on the plane, fly anywhere in the country I
wanted to—I could start a new life, theoretically at least. At the
very least, I could go home, and get my things out of Johnny’s
apartment, and slip away to somewhere else. Or, I could talk to
Krystopher Danes. My body was still tingling all over from the
punishment he had given me, my thighs burning, my breasts aching,
my pussy flexing and soaking wet from the intense arousal that the
torture had brought to me. I looked up and saw that the limo was
still waiting, though it was nearly full of the luggage. I
swallowed against the tightness in my throat. There was something
about the situation that made me move forward—in spite of the bad
luck of getting caught, I couldn’t help but think that the result
of my capture was much better than anything I could have
anticipated—it certainly didn’t do anything to teach me to control
my impulses.

I walked quickly,
finding the door to the back seat of the limo and opening it.
Krystopher was sitting calmly inside, not watching for me, just
waiting patiently, as if he hadn’t left me with the decision of a
lifetime, as if my choice didn’t concern him in the slightest. He
looked up as I pulled myself into the car. His dark eyes showed
only the faintest trace of curiosity as I looked at the envelopes
one last time. I handed over the one with the check in it, making
sure I had the right one. “I assume then that you’ve made your
decision?” I nodded slowly.

“I have.” I thought
about the choice for a moment. “I—I sort of am in a position to
start my life over.” I grimaced, looking down at my hands.
“There’s… well, suffice it to say that I’m kind of at loose ends
for the moment.” I met his gaze again finally. “What happened—what
you did in the plane to me...” I pressed my lips together, feeling
the blood flooding into my face. “I enjoyed it a lot. More than I
would have ever expected to.” Krystopher was smiling slightly, his
dark eyes warm in the gloomy light of the limo. “I would like to
find out more about it—about your philosophy.”

Krystopher leaned
forward and tapped a sequence out on a console. I saw a speaker on
the wall dividing the back of the limo from the driver’s
compartment—it chirped. “Yes Mr. Danes?” Krystopher cleared his
throat.

“I believe we can
leave the airport now, Mike. The car’s loaded.” He disengaged the
speaker as soon as the driver replied with an affirmative, and
looked at me speculatively. “You know that by agreeing to this,
you’re agreeing to be completely submissive to me.” I bit my
lip—submitting to anyone was not usually in my nature; but then
again, I had never been so fully dominated in my life, nor had I
ever anticipated enjoying being beaten with a flogger, being
tortured until I couldn’t possibly take anymore. I nodded slowly.
“Your entire life will revolve around my desires—you’ll be
disciplined and punished according to my rules, and you’ll receive
sexual gratification only when I determine you’ve earned it as a
reward—along with any other rewards I decide to give you.” It was a
steep bargain, but with my whole body tingling, my arms and legs
still trembling in the wake of what he had already done to me, I
nodded. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I will—I will submit
to you completely.” He held my gaze.

“Tell me you’ll be my
slave.” I swallowed against the instinctive rejection of the
word.

“I’ll be your slave.”
Krystopher extended a hand to me as the car began to move, pulling
away from the plane. I took his hand and he pulled me to him,
looking me up and down slowly.

“You know, underneath
these clothes, you’re quite something.” He smiled slightly, running
his hands all over my body. “There are some ground rules we have to
establish.” He cleared his throat. “While you are a slave, your
body is mine. Either of us can sever this relationship at any time
we deem fit; but as long as you continue to agree to be mine, you
agree to submit to any reasonable demand I make of you. I will
never hurt you—I will never harm you.” I nodded, my heart beginning
to beat faster at the solemn way he was telling me basically that I
was giving up my rights to him; I reminded myself that I could end
it any time I wanted—he had just said so. “But if I want you naked,
you will be naked. If I want you on your knees, you will
immediately comply.”

I swallowed against
the instinctive tightening of my throat and looked at Krystopher
for a long moment. “I understand,” I said slowly. Krystopher smiled
slightly and leaned in, brushing his lips against mine—a
feather-light touch that didn’t linger.

“In that case,
strip.” I started slightly, but I was determined to start off on
the right foot. I reached down and pulled the hem of the blouse up
along my body. “Slowly, Rhonda.” I took a deep breath. My hands
were trembling; I could feel Krystopher’s gaze intent on me. I took
my time, exposing my body inch by inch, pulling the blouse up
slowly until I finally got it over my head. I cast it aside and
half-stood awkwardly; the limo wasn’t quite tall enough for me to
stand completely. I unzipped the skirt I was wearing along the
side, and hooked my fingers in the waistband. I tugged the
stretchy, tight material down over my hips and shimmied slightly as
I worked it down my legs; I kicked it free of my ankles and looked
at Krystopher, silently asking if he wanted me to continue. He
nodded. I felt silly in underwear and shoes, so I reached down and
loosened the boots I was wearing before I kicked them off. I turned
my back on Krystopher and reached around to the closure of my bra,
kneeling awkwardly; the position I was standing in made my legs
tremble with the effort of holding me up. I unhooked the bra and
guided it away from my body slowly, turning around to let
Krystopher watch me pull it away from my breasts. His gaze was
unwavering as he took me in, and for a moment I felt
self-conscious.

I took a deep breath
and finally slipped my hands down to the waistband of my panties.
Holding Krystopher’s gaze, I pulled the thin fabric over my hips
and down my legs, standing up again awkwardly as I slipped it past
my knees and stepped out. I was fully naked in front of him, the
blood rushing to my face and then downward. In spite of my sense of
embarrassment, I found that I was starting to get turned on again;
I had never really stopped being aroused. Krystopher lifted one
hand and gestured for me to approach him. I moved towards him, and
he reached out, grabbing my wrist and pulled me into his lap. “Now
that you’ve taken punishment, I believe it’s time for some
discipline.” I licked my lips, not certain what I had agreed
to—what I was about to submit to. But I nodded nonetheless,
intrigued, my body already crackling with a fire that I couldn’t
quite control.