His Indecent Secrets (Bound and Shackled to the Billionaire, BDSM Erotic Romance) by Aphrodite Hunt Page A

make sure that when I see my brother, I’ll make his death excruciatingly slow instead of quick and painless. But if you do everything I ask of you . . . I may be persuaded to be merciful.”
    His blue eyes – exactly the same as Channing’s – were so piercing and ruthless than she quailed beneath him, trembling.
    “I’ll do anything you want,” she whispered. “Just please . . . please don’t hurt him”
    “Fuckin’ hell,” he said, grinning, “instant obedience. Not ‘please don’t hurt me’ . It’s ‘please don’t hurt him .’ Does he even know you’re in love with him?”
    She shook her head, frightened. She didn’t think she could hide the truth from Hugh.
    Anger seethed through his eyes as he slammed his cock into her, as though to punish her for her honesty.
    “Yeah, he’s always got that charm with the bitches. They’re always falling on their faces over him. What’s he got that I don’t?”
    She was too terrified to answer. No homicidal maniac tendencies, perhaps?
    She let him ride her until her insides were sore. It was surreal looking into his eyes. He was Channing and not Channing. If she blinked hard and fast enough, her mind would trip over and she could just pretend that they blurred into one –
    The car in her present screeches to a halt. She is dragged out, her head docked by somebody’s hand like a prisoner. Around them, she hears the high-pitched whine of a plane engine.
    She’s going on a trip. But not to where Channing originally intended.
    Hands grip her shoulder.
    Channing’s voice. (No, not Channing.) “This is going to hurt a bit but you’ll be the better for it.”
    She tenses as he straightens her arm. She feels a needle prick. Oh my God. What is he doing to me? She cries out, but dizziness envelops her and she falls into a swoon.
    This isn’t good, she thinks as she collapses, her body folding into someone’s rock solid arms.
     
    *
     
    When she wakes up, she is in a bed in a strange room.
    The furniture is sparse and plain, with wooden closets, a desk, a chair and a chest of drawers. A bedside table holds a silver flask with two overturned coffee mugs. The walls are painted in Mediterranean colors – red, blue, green – like pieces of an Italian decorative plate. A ceiling fan slowly rotates as the balmy, humid atmosphere hits her.
    Her skin is prickly and sweaty. Where is she?
    The barred windows portray a clear blue sky with scudding clouds. The sun is high and blazing with scorching heat. It shimmers over the placid waves of a sea.
    So she is in at some sort of beach.
    There is no clock in the room, but from the sun’s position, she reckons it’s about midday. But midday where? What time zone is she in?
    The weather feels tropical, and yet the room is done up in Latin decor. Under the thin white sheet that covers her body, she is naked. The bedclothes are sodden with her sweat.
    She sits up, self-conscious. She remembers everything that has happened, but not anything beyond the needle prick. She doesn’t know how much time has elapsed. All she knows is that the soreness in her pussy has abated.
    Obviously hours . . . maybe even days . . . have passed.
    Although she is alone, she is certain that hidden cameras are watching and recording her every move, and so she drags the sheet around her body as she gets up fearfully.
    Channing. What has happened to him? Is he alive? Is he dead?
    It’s so terrifying not to know what is happening.
    Channing, Channing, I love you. This is not your fault. I don’t hold you responsible.
    There comes the click of a key in the lock. The door swings open. Channing stands there, as handsome as he has always been – short hair, shocking blue eyes, wide sensuous mouth, body like a god’s in his tight T-shirt that shows off his arms with their bulging veins so superbly.
    No, he’s not Channing.
    Why the fuck can’t she get that right?
    He is not alone. A youth is with him. A nervous youth with curly big hair and bronzed skin