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

who looks all of about eighteen. He carries an open laptop in his hands.
    What are they going to do to her?
    She takes a step back and clasps the sheet closer to her body. Her pulse flutters like a moth above the roaring of her ears.
    Hugh says, “Look at you. All ripe and ready for the taking.”
    She fists her palms. Submit to me . . . willingly and gracefully . . . and I’ll make his death excruciatingly slow instead of quick and painless.
    “What do you want with me?” she says.
    “What do I want with you? Oh baby, you have no idea.” He strides into the room, the frightened youth in tow. “But first, I’m going to give you a little treat. You’re going to get to talk to your boyfriend, my brother, who has absolutely no fucking clue you’re in love with him.”
    Channing? Her heart leaps.
    “By the way, this is Miguel, but don’t bother probing him for answers. He’s not from around here and he doesn’t want to die.”
    Miguel darts frightened brown eyes at her as he sets the computer down on the desk.
    “Come here, darling. Go talk to your boyfriend. I’m sure he misses you.” Hugh holds his hand out to her.
    For a moment, she’s afraid to take it.
    His startling blue eyes arrest her. “I’m not a monster, Susan. I’m capable of treating you with kindness. If you behave.”
    She doesn’t know what to believe. But the thought of Channing on the other side of the computer – wherever he is – makes her feet pad faster than she thought possible to the desk. She seats herself, sheet wrapped demurely around her. Hugh has not forbidden her to say anything. But what can she tell Channing?
    I don’t know where I am. Your brother fucked me. I thought he was you.
    What a shitty twisted world we live in.
    The video winks on.
    Channing is on the other side, the spitting image of Hugh. The same intense blue eyes, worry creases around them.
    “Susan? Are you all right?”
    She can tell that he’s in some sort of room. Where, she doesn’t know. He might have already flown to Rome or Luxembourg or wherever a billionaire usually holes up in if his house gets burned down.
    “Channing!” Tears spring to her eyes even though she promised she wouldn’t break down in front of him, lest he be more anxious over her. Her hand touches the screen. How she wishes she can touch his face.
    “Susan. Please tell me you’re OK. If I get to wrap my hands around that little fucker’s neck, I swear I’ll choke him so hard that he won’t be able to rise from the grave ever again.”
    “I’m OK.” She’s not sure she’s OK, but seeing Channing lifts her hopes up to almost stratospheric levels.
    Channing’s eyes blaze. “Did he touch you? Because if he did – ”
    Hugh cuts in, “Yeah, what are you going to do about it? The same thing you did when your house burned down? Because I’ve already fucked her and she gave her cunt to me willingly. Didn’t you, princess?”
    He grabs her face roughly and kisses her full on the lips, right in front of the camera aperture on the open laptop. Susan can only imagine what Channing must be thinking. Channing . . . who has never kissed her before. Channing – who equates kissing with profound intimacy. But Hugh obviously has no such hang-ups.
    She struggles, but his grip is firm. She remembers what he threatened about what he would do to Channing if she didn’t submit. So she lets her body go lax as he kisses her voraciously. When he finally lets her go, there are indentations of his fingernails on her chin. She can scarcely feel her circulation.
    She realizes that the sheet has fallen off her body and her breasts are displayed. Miguel’s eyes are popping out of his head. Channing is screaming something into the camera. His eyes are bloodshot and anguished.
    “I know. I’ve turned off the sound,” Hugh says. He taps the sound icon again and it turns from red to green. “If you’re done yelling, listen up. The only reason she let me fuck her . . . again and again . . .