Cruel Obsession Read online

  “Bed?” I croak. That’s when I remember what he said earlier when he showed me the house. He said we’ll be sharing the bedroom. I’ve been so occupied with trying to escape, that I forgot about that part, or maybe I just wanted to forget it.

  He wants me to sleep with him. This insane man who drugged and kidnapped me is making me sleep with him.

  “Yes, bed, it’s late, and you should rest since I had to give you that drug. It’ll take a little while to completely wear off. Now go shower.”

  He puts some much-needed space between us, though it looks like it’s the last thing he wants to do. In fact, he looks like he wants to ravage me, consume me, breathe me in until there’s nothing left. Like watching a bad accident happen right before your eyes, you can’t make yourself look away, and that’s how I’m feeling right now.

  When I don’t move, Zane gives me a dark smirk that gets the blood pumping through my veins. “Go, now. Before I strip you bare and take what’s always been mine.” The muscles in his forearms tighten, and his fists clench a little tighter, and it’s almost like he’s holding himself back.

  Always been his?

  That thought gets me moving, and I scurry away from him, practically running to the bedroom. Once alone, I finally feel like I can breathe. I touch a finger to my lips where the kiss lingers and wonder why I’m feeling this way?

  Something is terribly wrong with me.

  12

  Scrubbing a hand down my face, I ignore the raging hard-on I’m sporting between my thighs. Fuck, it was just a kiss, but that little touch of our lips was like a lightning bolt of pleasure zinging through me, making my entire body come alive.

  My skin tingles and feels hot to the touch. I feel so incredible, I couldn’t care less about my swelling face or the open cut on my cheek.

  It’s no surprise that she’s fighting me on every corner, not that I expected anything less. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother the shit out of me though. I want her to trust me, want her to believe that I’m protecting her. That my intentions come from a good place. I mean, how can she still not see that? I guess she needs more time.

  Yes, in time, she will understand. Soon enough, it will make sense to her. She will learn to trust me, see that I mean her no harm. I know she’s scared and unsure, so I need to give her more time to digest everything.

  This place is so quiet that I can hear the shower running through closed doors and from across the apartment. Which, of course, doesn’t help my boner any. Immediately, my mind conjures up an image of Dove in the shower, naked, her skin covered in bubbles. Her delicate fingers slipping between her legs. Maybe touching her pussy at this very moment. Shit, this is not helping… thinking about her naked is not going to help me keep myself in check.

  Looking down at my steel hard cock, I groan. Soon… very soon, but not today.

  I make one more run upstairs to the car. When I come downstairs this time, I’m a little more careful. I wouldn’t hold it against Dove if she tried to hurt me again, she’s a fighter after all. She might not look like it on the outside, but she is stronger and braver than many people I’ve met. I doubt she’s giving up so fast. She’ll continue to push me, and that’s not her fault. It’s just not in her to give up, and I admire that about her. Her determination.

  By the time I’ve put all the groceries and supplies away, the sound of running water has stopped, and I know she is finished with her shower. The ache in my balls has subsided a little, but having her so close, and yet so far away at the same time, makes the cravings unbearable.

  Making my way back into the bedroom, I wonder if she is going to try and fight me on our sleeping arrangements. I’m sure she will. If she’s trying this hard to escape, I can only imagine what she plans to do to get out of sleeping beside me.

  Stepping into the room, I find her standing in front of the dresser wrapped in a fluffy white towel. The long strands of her brown hair cascade down her back while beads of water cling to her skin. I want to lick them away. Lick every inch of her body until she’s completely spent and can do nothing but lay there as I take her over and over again.

  Biting back a groan, I force the thought away.

  “Nightgowns and Pajamas are in the second drawer, I believe,” I say, making her jump a good foot off the floor as she turns around.

  “I didn’t hear you walk in,” she whispers, staring at me with a puzzled expression as she white knuckles the towel. I wonder what she’s thinking. Does she think I’m going to attack her? Rip the towel away and ravage her?

  After a moment, she turns back around to face the dresser and opens the drawer, causing the thought to evaporate into the air. She pulls out a pair of flannel pajamas, and while holding onto them with a death grip, she disappears back into the bathroom. Her need for privacy is laughable. I want to tell her that there is no need to hide from me, that I’ve seen her naked many times over the years, but I don’t think she’s ready to hear that yet.

  I’ve shared enough with her today. We have many weeks to come to discuss all of these things. While she is getting ready in the bathroom, I strip out of my clothes and slip into some sleeping pants. Usually, I sleep naked, but since I’m making a conscious effort to make Dove comfortable, I opt for clothing. She’s not ready to see me naked, yet. A moment later, she reappears in the doorway. I can see her hardened nipples through the sleep shirt she’s wearing and saliva pools in my mouth.

  Fuck me. I used to think it was so hard to see her and only be able to watch her, but I was wrong. This is a far more difficult battle. Dropping my gaze, I take in the rest of her body. Clean, dressed, safe.

  “The bathroom door doesn’t lock,” she says as if I didn’t know that already.

  “I know. None of the doors lock except the main entrance and the gym.” A tense moment of silence blankets us. Pulling the covers back, I ask, “Do you need anything before we go to sleep? A drink of water?”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.” She lifts her chin into the air. Her defiance really is a fucking turn on, and if she didn’t matter so much to me, I would snap her in two.

  Turning to face her fully, I don’t bother making my voice soft, there is no way she will win this fight. “You will sleep with me in this bed. This is one thing I insist on. I’ve waited too long for you to not sleep in the same bed with you now. So, you can either come to me on your own, or I will drag you to the bed and tie you to it. Choose, but either way, you’re sleeping beside me.”

  Slowly she blinks as if she’s not sure she heard me correctly.

  “What’s it going to be?” I ask, my patience slipping.

  Padding over to the bed, she climbs up onto the mattress, a look of rage on her face. God, she is adorable when she’s mad. She lies down at the edge of the king-sized mattress and pulls the blanket all the way up to her chin.

  Her gaze stays trained on me the entire time, like I’m a big bad monster. I can see fear, anger, and curiosity swirling around in the dark depths of her ocean colored eyes. I didn’t bother putting a shirt back on, and just like earlier, she stares at my bare chest when I climb into the bed, taking the spot beside her.

  Her cheeks are a hue of pink, but when she realizes she’s been caught, her face turns bright red.

  “It’s okay to look. You don’t have to be shy with me.”

  “It’s wrong. You’re a monster. You kidnapped me.”

  Ignoring her words, I roll onto my side and pat the spot beside me. “Come here. I want to hold you.”

  Her lips press into a firm line, and she shakes her head. “I’m fine here.”

  Sighing, I reach for her, throwing an arm over her middle, I drag her toward me. “When I said sleep, I meant in my arms.”

  “I don’t want to sleep this close to you. I want to go home.” She squirms against me and rolls onto her side, facing away from me. Tightening my hold on her, I crush her back to my chest and keep her there. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, she stops struggling.

  I guess it’
s because she feels my cock hardening and pressing against her ass while struggling. Burying my face into the back of her neck, I inhale deeply. For the first time in a very long time, calmness sweeps over me. The same calmness I felt all those years ago when Dove held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay.

  Years of pain and anguish are washed away in the blink of an eye and all because I get to hold her, finally. All I feel is Dove. Her warmth surrounds me, her sweet scent tickles the hairs in my nose. And I’m reminded that this isn’t a dream. This is real. The steady rhythm of my heartbeat drums in my ears and I squeeze her a little tighter.

  “Goodnight, Dove,” I whisper into her hair. She doesn’t say anything back, but that doesn’t bother me; soon enough, she will see things for what they are.

  For a while, her tiny body shakes with fear, but when she realizes I’m not going to do anything, she relaxes into my arms. It doesn’t take long for sleep to find me, and I hold Dove in my arms the entire night, my love for her an unbreakable prison that she will never escape.

  * * *

  My muscles ache when I finally open my eyes. Having Dove in my bed was both heaven and hell. Heaven because I was finally holding her, finally sleeping next to her, and hell because she woke up every few hours trying to wiggle out of my grasp. Every time she fights me and tries to get away, it’s like a small stab in the heart.

  “Can you please let me go?” she whispers sleepily. “I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Sure,” I murmur into her hair before reluctantly releasing her. She climbs out of bed and disappears into the bathroom as if she can’t get away fast enough. Lying on the bed, I watch the door, waiting for her to reappear. My cock has made a tent in my sleep pants, and there’s no point in hiding my arousal.

  When the door creaks open, and her head pops out, her eyes go straight to the tent, and those plump lips of hers part on a gasp before fear flickers in her gaze.

  “There isn’t anything to be scared of. I’m not going to attack you. I’ll wait till you’re ready. I can control myself.”

  She makes a choking sound. “Ready?”

  I smirk. “Yes, when you’re ready. I’ll wait till you’re begging me to fuck you, then, and only then, will I touch you.”

  “You’ll be waiting for a long time because I won’t ever beg you. I didn’t even want to sleep next to you. The last thing I’m going to do is have sex with you.” She turns her button nose up at me as if doing so would hurt my feelings.

  All I can do is let out a harsh chuckle. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say. Let’s go have some breakfast and then I’ll show you the library. We have plenty of time to argue, but I’d prefer to do it after I have my coffee.”

  Dove doesn’t respond, and I toss my legs over the side of the bed and stretch my arms above my head, releasing a loud groan. Looking over my shoulder, I find Dove staring at me, when she sees me watching her, she looks down to the floor.

  As amusing as it is to stand here and watch her squirm with embarrassment, I really could use some coffee. “Come, let’s eat breakfast.”

  Dove follows behind me, her feet move with little noise. Heading straight for the coffee pot, I prepare the coffee and then get to work on breakfast. I don’t bother asking Dove what she wants for breakfast. I know what she likes, what she’s allergic to. Her opinion when it comes to meals isn’t needed because I won’t ever make her something she won’t eat.

  Preparing eggs and bacon for us, I place a plate down in front of her and lean against the counter, taking a gulp of the steaming hot coffee. Thankfully, Dove eats without complaint, and when she’s done, I take her plate and put it in the sink.

  Then I gesture for her to follow me.

  As we walk down the hall, past the gym and toward the library, Dove asks, “How long will I have to stay here?”

  “Until it’s safe, and I’m ready to leave.” I stop us directly in front of the door. Her cheeks are a soft pink, and her bee-stung lips are begging to be kissed. My attraction to her is spiraling out of control. I’m going to need to get a grasp on it.

  Reaching for the door handle, I twist the knob and push the door open. I revel in the audible gasp she releases at the sight. I wasn’t lying when I said I built this place with her in mind. Her love for reading was front and center when I designed the bunker. In fact, she’s the only constant in my mind. The only person that matters.

  Walking inside, I watch her face, the way her gaze widens, and her lips part. She’s both shocked and in awe. I knew she would love this room.

  Turning to me, she asks, “You built this for me?”

  My heart lurches in my chest because, for the first time, she’s looking at me like I’m more than her captor. Some deeper feeling swirls in her eyes, and right then, I wish she could remember me. Remember that night. Remember where it all started.

  13

  The rest of the day is tense. I try to keep myself busy reading and watching movies, but nothing holds my interest because my mind is too exhausted trying to make sense of my situation. I still catch myself thinking that this can’t be real, that I must be asleep in my bed. That any minute now, I’m going to wake up and laugh about the crazy dream I had.

  Curled up in the large recliner in the library, with Max cuddled up next to me, purring away, I do my best to focus on the book I’m reading. Looking at the pages, I read the same paragraph for the third time. This is pointless. Zane has left me alone for the last few hours, giving me space, he said. As if that was the issue here.

  When I hear approaching footsteps, my head snaps up, and I drop the book I’ve been trying to read for thirty minutes into my lap.

  “Would you like to work out with me?” Zane asks while leaning against the door casually.

  “What… how?”

  He chuckles. “In the gym. Do you want to work out? There is a stationary bike, a treadmill, and a rowing machine.”

  “Oh…” I’m about to decline, but then I remember that there are probably heavy weights in the gym, weights I can use as weapons. “Sure, I’ll come.”

  Looking pleased about me taking his invitation, he nods and starts to walk away. “Come, let me show you the rest of your closet. I got you some workout clothes as well.”

  I’ve been wearing these thick pajamas all day, which are comfortable as hell, and it’s not like anyone will see me here, so there really isn’t a reason to change, though I guess I won’t be able to wear these while working out. Getting up from the recliner, I follow him through the apartment and into the bedroom.

  Pulling out the drawers, he shows me what’s in each one, then he walks to the large mirror that spreads from floor to ceiling. He pushes a button—I hadn’t noticed—on the side of it, and the mirror slowly swings open.

  “Oh, wow,” I exclaim as the enormous walk-in closet comes into view. He walks inside, and I follow behind him, too curious not to.

  “This side holds all of my clothes, and these two sides hold yours. Workout attire is over there.” He points to the far right of the wall.

  “Wow,” I repeat because, really, it’s the only thing I can think to say. This whole thing is so unreal. He bought all of these things for me? People don’t just spend money on other people, not unless they care about them, so why did he spend all this money on me? Why did he build this fortress and bring me here? Is it because he’s obsessed with me?

  I snap out of it when he grabs something from his side of the closet and starts to walk out. “I’ll give you a minute so you can get dressed and meet you in the gym.”

  All I manage is a nod, still baffled by the number of clothes and shoes he got for me. I wish I could say that I don’t care about any of this, that material things don’t matter to me, but that would be a lie. The sad truth is that these things do mean something to me. They mean a lot. Growing up poor, I never had pretty clothes or even new clothes. I was simply glad when I got clothes that would somewhat fit me and didn’t have huge holes or stains on them.

  Hav
ing him buy all this stuff for me, providing me with the things I need, has my stomach in knots. I’ve never been so conflicted in my life.

  I want to hate him. I want to feel nothing besides anger toward him, but looking at what he’s done for me, has my feelings and thoughts twisted, a knife piercing me in the gut.

  No, I can’t let him do this to me. This was probably exactly why he did this. He’s trying to buy my trust, trying to make me thankful. Thankful that I have him, thankful that he got me all these things. A sour taste fills my mouth.

  I can’t let him win. I need to keep a clear head. No matter what he does or says, he is the enemy, and I can’t forget that because the moment I do, all chances of me getting out of here will be lost. I can’t get wrapped up in this game he’s playing.

  Searching through the clothes, I pull out some capri pants, a sports bra, and a loose-fitting T-shirt, which I switch into quickly. Then I find a pair of socks and running shoes, which, no surprise, are my exact size. Putting those on as well, the last thing I do is put my long hair up in a ponytail with a hair tie that I find in the bathroom.

  As I walk to the gym, my mind wanders. I’ve come to the conclusion that Zane’s obsession with me knows no bounds. I wonder just exactly how much he knows about me? How long has he been stalking me, watching me? I shiver at the memory of being watched—at the fear. It was him all along, it had to be, but the biggest question is, why?

  I walk into the large room, holding a plethora of fitness equipment, too many to count, but my eyes land on one in particular. It’s a metal bar hanging from the ceiling.

  Attached to that bar is a shirtless Zane doing pull-ups. I remember having to do them in school, hating that I was so weak I could barely do a single one. Zane makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Up and down, back up and down, without stopping.

  His back is turned toward me, and all I can do is watch his bulging muscles flex as he repeats the motion. I’m so mesmerized, I’m frozen in place, forgetting for a moment why I’m even here.