“Yes,” Kitten whispered with some hesitation, “Master.” Tentatively, she moved her limbs into position. She wore a nightgown and her body was not visible to Caleb, but he knew her body well enough to know what he was missing and his body unwittingly responded.

“Leet sawm k’leet sue is Russian. When you hear the command, you will lie on your back with your knees spread and lifted toward your chest. Hold your legs behind your knees.” Kitten broke position and stared up at him with a pleading expression.

Caleb’s breath stuttered into his lungs from his excitement. At last, she was compliant, and his to command. The feeling was heady, but made somewhat hollow because he was teaching her the commands in Russian. “Leet sawm k’leet sue,” he repeated. His expression was hard, his eyes serious.

Kitten’s mouth tilted downward at the corners in a slight grimace, her chin trembling with her effort not to cry, but she nodded. In achingly slow degrees, she put herself flat on the ground. She looked up at the ceiling and the tears she had been holding fell down the sides of her face into her hair.

This was hard for her, Caleb knew it would be, but it was the easiest thing she could do compared to the journey ahead. There was guilt on his part, but also desire, intense desire that thrummed in his veins. The guilt was nothing when pitted against his desire to have Kitten at his mercy. If that made him sick and depraved, he’d accepted it a long time ago. “Your legs, Kitten. Let’s have it.”

He watched as her knees began to bend and he nearly doubled over with want as her hands pulled at the nightgown, raising it over her knees and up her thighs. He hadn’t expected her to bare herself to him, but she was. His c**k began to stir to the beat of his speeding heart, filling, lengthening and begging to show itself. Kitten raised her knees toward her chest, her hands fisting the nightgown at her waist. Her pu**y was clearly visible, the pink lips spread and flushed, her tiny clit peeking out from beneath its hood. Caleb drew a sharp breath and swallowed.

He could stare at her forever, but his desire was not the purpose of this exercise. It was the most concise manner of re-establishing their roles. There would be no outbursts today, no arguments on the road, no confusion about whether or not he would spare her. “You really are beautiful there, Kitten.”

She whimpered.

“Excuse me?” he snapped.

“Thank you, Master” she corrected.

“Very good, Kitten. You can put your legs down now.” Her movements were quicker than he thought possible with her injuries, but he declined to comment. He also ignored her sniffling. “Lye zhaash chee means, prone. Do you understand the word?”

Kitten sobbed as she nodded, “Yes, Master.”

“Over on your stomach then.”

“It’ll hurt,” she said.

“Attempt it at the very least. Always try to obey. Let me worry about what you can and cannot handle, return to the rest position, with your back to me,” Caleb said. His words were clipped and brooked no argument. “Lye zhaash chee.”

A mewling sound burst past Kitten’s lips, but she quickly pressed her lips together and held her breath as she struggled, like a turtle flipped on its shell, to roll over. Caleb hesitated to help her and it reminded him of the first time she had disobeyed him and he had slapped her br**sts a rosy pink until she obeyed. It seemed like ages ago.

It took a minute or two, but finally she was in the rest position. Caleb admired the way her ass rested on her bare feet. “Now lean your body forward with your ass in the air. Normally, you have your arms stretched out in front of you, but for now, keep them wherever it’s most comfortable.

Kitten was stoic as she did what she was told. She chose to keep her arms crossed over her chest, letting the side of her face rest against the ground. The nightgown obstructed Caleb’s view. He stepped forward and gathered the fabric up over the soft cheeks of her ass.

“Oh, Kitten. I do like you like this. So much.” His words held nothing but truth. He couldn’t resist palming her lightly splayed cheeks and opening them slowly. Kitten trembled, but remained otherwise still beneath his questing fingers. “Can I touch you?” he asked, with a hint of challenge.

There was silence for a few seconds and then she answered, “Yes, Master.” Caleb smiled, it was exactly the answer he wanted and exactly the one she should give. She was learning.

“That’s good, Kitten. I’m proud of you,” he said. He stroked the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kitten let out a gust of breath, Caleb, interpreted as desperation. This was a lot for her to handle so soon after the trauma of the last few days. She’d done well, and he really was proud of her. It was enough.

He pulled the nightgown back into place and urged her back into her rest position. Tears tracked down her cheeks and her face was most definitely worse for wear, but Caleb kissed her wet cheeks anyway as he helped her regain her calm.

After he gave her more medicine for her pain, he calmly fed her breakfast while she sat quietly between his knees, accepting all he had to give her.

Chapter Eight

Day 9:

Dr. Sloan doesn’t ask me why I’m crying and I assume it’s because she figures she knows. I would rather she ask me. “I know what you’re thinking,” I say, but it sounds like an accusation.

Dr. Sloan clears her throat, “What am I thinking?”

“That Caleb is awful, that he’s cruel and I’m stupid for loving him.”

She shakes her head, somewhat wryly and responds in a way I perceive as clinical, “I don’t think you’re stupid at all. If anything, I think you’re extraordinarily brave.”

I scoff. “Right. I’m brave. Reed said the same thing.”

I hear the scratching of her pen as she makes more notes, “Well then, you have a second opinion now. You don’t think your actions were brave?”

“Not especially. I think I just did what I had to do. Caleb’s always saying a person has to do what they must in order to survive. Survival is the only thing that matters.”

“You don’t think surviving is brave?”

“I don’t know. Do you think that guy who cut off his arm because he was trapped by a boulder was brave? It’s just instinct.”

“It’s called fight or flight and one is certainly braver than the other, depending on the circumstances. Under your circumstances, what you did was very brave. You’re here, Olivia. You survived.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“Would you prefer, Miss Ruiz? Agent Reed says you don’t mind that as much.”

“Yeah? What else did he say about me?”

She smiles coyly and suddenly I find myself suspicious of their relationship. I don’t like the fact they talk about me. “We’re required to discuss the case, Miss Ruiz. We exchange all notes and information as well as any insights we might have. I did tell you all of this.”

“I know. What did he say about me?” I have a strange curiosity about Reed that hasn’t abated. I don’t know what it is about him, but there’s definitely something.

“He said you’re a brat,” she says, but her eyes smile. I smile a little too. Reed didn’t say that at all.

“Back to the subject. Why don’t you think you’re brave?”

I sigh, “I don’t know. I guess…I’m here and that’s what Caleb wants.” An uncomfortable silence settles between us. I’m lost in my thoughts. What, Caleb, wants. I thought I did everything he wanted, I tried my very best to make him happy, but in the end…I guess it doesn’t matter.

“You keep referring to him in the present tense, why?”

I can see his face in my mind’s eye, so beautiful, so sad. There’s blood smudged across his cheek, but I don’t care. I’m not squeamish any more. It’s the face of the man I love, the only one I’ve ever loved and it’s difficult to imagine there will ever be another. I wipe more tears away. That bastard. “It’s easier,” I finally answer, “I don’t like the idea he’s gone.”

Sloan nods. “Go ahead, tell me what happened next.”

“Nothing much really, after breakfast he helped me get dressed. Then he tied me to the bed, gagged me, and left for a few hours.” I know where he went now – he went to the bank, but I don’t know if I should tell Sloan or not. Then again, Reed already knows about the money. “He went to the bank,” I add. Sloan flips through her paperwork and writes something down.

“Why isn’t Reed here? Why the both of you at different times?”

“Agent Reed and I have different job descriptions. He’s interested in the case; I’m interested in your well-being as well as the case.”

“So he doesn’t give a shit about what happens to me, is what you’re saying.” I’m not shocked by the information; it’s something I already knew to be true, but still, it stings to hear it from someone else.

“I didn’t say that. Please don’t put words in my mouth,” Sloan says. I think I’ve made her uncomfortable, but I can’t say for what reason. “Agent Reed says you kissed him?”

My eyes open wide and my mouth is slightly agape. I can’t believe he told her! Why would he do that! “So!?!” My face is heating up, and I’m positive it stems in equal parts from anger and embarrassment.