Free Bound by You (Secret Wishes) by India Masters Page A

where.
    Where turned out to be a basement, or at least that’s what I thought. Anyway, he was carrying me down a set of stairs. The smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener filled my nostrils. Definitely a basement, then; the descent was too long to be anything else. He set me on my feet, replaced the silken cord around my wrists with a set of leather cuffs, and attached them to a hook on a wooden support column. He plastered himself against me, took my undershirt in both hands and tore it apart. Pressing my belly against the post, he lifted the sack slightly from my face, then licked my cheek and laughed softly before stepping away.
    “Don’t go anywhere,” he taunted. His footsteps disappeared up the stairs and the door slammed behind him. The lock turned with a resounding click.
    I was tied up and locked in the basement of a madman.
     
    * * *
     
    I strained to hear something, anything, to indicate what he had in mind, but there was nothing except for the panicked tattoo of my heartbeat as it drummed in my chest. Would anyone hear me if I screamed?
    Terror as vivid and pristine as my beloved Colorado mountain air battered every corner of my mind. I berated myself—I should have been more careful. Hadn’t Jess just stressed the fact that I needed to be more aware of my surroundings? That I shouldn’t bebop around with my iPod blaring in my ears, paying absolutely no attention to what was happening around me? It was totally my fault I was in this situation, though a fat lot of good it would do to admit that now. Woulda, coulda, shoulda.
    The door above opened and a wave of nausea washed over me. He was coming back. What would he do? Would he hurt me? Possibly kill me? Harsh light filled the room, bright even through the filter of the cloth sack covering my head. There was only a single set of footsteps on the stairs. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Perhaps the other man wanted nothing to do with murder.
    Strong hands cupped my hips and spun me around. His grip wasn’t biting, but it was powerful enough to prevent me from struggling.
    “Miss me, princess?”
    I didn’t know if I was supposed to answer so I kept my mouth shut.
    “Mmm, you look sexy as hell with your shirt ripped to shreds and that pretty lace bra showing off your breasts. It’s a shame to mess it up but—”
    I heard a click and felt the cold press of steel against my skin.
    Oh God, a knife!
    He inserted the blade under the band between the cups. With a flick of his wrist the bra gaped open. He moved it aside, exposing me.
    “Very pretty, but I think those nipples need a little something.” He put his warm mouth over a nipple and sucked. “They pucker real nice, and I have just the thing to keep them that way.”
    I heard the tinkle of bells, then stiffened when something that felt like a rubber-tipped tweezer was attached to one of my nipples. I whimpered when the pressure tightened to a sharp pinch. It was mildly uncomfortable, but more humiliating than painful. Which was probably the point. He fingered my nipple and the bell jingled.
    “I like it. Sounds like Christmas.” He attached a second to my other nipple, then set them both to ringing. “Those will make a real pretty sound when I have you bent over with my dick up your ass. Speaking of which—”  
    He reached up and took the cuffs off the hook on the post. I stifled a moan as the blood began to rush back into my arms and fingers. When he started to lead me across the room, I tried to pull away.
    “Where are you taking me? What are you going to do?”
    I yelped when he delivered a stinging smack to my jeans-covered ass, the torturous bells ringing.
    “You don’t ask questions, got it? I’ll ask the questions, and when I do, I expect you to answer. Understood?”
    “Y-yes.”
    Smack. “What was that?”
    “Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir.”
    His grip on my upper arm tightened as he dragged me deeper into the room. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but