Page 11 of Kidnapping the Duchess
CHAPTER SIX
Izak
As I watch the duchess stir to life where I’ve tied her to the massive four-poster bed, I have to wonder if I’ve gone too far.
Typically, kidnapping a member of the royal family is frowned upon. But, desperate times and all that. Edwin’s been putting pressure on Daria to secure her future by hitching her wagon to Applebaum’s, so I need to make my move. This fake abduction is essentially my audition with the duchess. To show her what it can be like between us if she’d just give it a chance. Two days, that’s all I need. Then she can decide who she wants—a husband in name only and an empty bed? Or a man who will guard her with his life by day and worship every inch of her body at night.
Blinking her eyes open, Daria finally comes to.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” I say from the chair across the room where I’ve been watching her since we arrived.
“What the—” She tugs at the rope restraints on her wrists, realizes she’s only in her bra and panties, then aims a lethal glare in my direction. “Did you drug me?”
I throw my hands up. “Hell no, I didn’t drug you. I would never fucking do that, Daria. You fell asleep in the car and I couldn’t wake you up at the airfield. You were seriously out.” Realization flickers in her eyes, confirming what I suspected happened. “You took one of your sleeping pills, didn’t you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t bloody well have to if I didn’t have you living inside my head!”
She clamps her lips together and averts her gaze, clearly not intending to give away so much. I steeple my fingers and arch a brow. “It’s not only your pretty head I want to be inside, Duchess. That’s why I’ve brought you here.”
Daria whips her gaze back to mine. “Where, exactly, is here, Mr. Blackstone? I demand you tell me. And where the hell are my clothes?”
I chuckle. Even at a serious disadvantage, she thinks she has the upper hand. “A kidnapper never reveals the whereabouts of his hideout, your grace. And don’t worry,” I say, not trying too hard to hide my amusement, “your clothes and other vital things are in here.” I indicate a large black duffel on the floor.
“You stole my things?”
“No, I carefully selected only the items you would need, so you’re welcome. I’ve seen your version of packing lightly. You would’ve weighed the damn jet down—”
“You stole our jet?!”
My brow arches. “Do you also assume I’ve broken into this cottage?”
Now it’s her turn to arch a brow. “Well,” she says, “have you?”
I narrow my eyes and dip my chin just enough to chastise her. “Duchess, I’m starting to be concerned about your assumptions of my honor, or lack thereof.”
“Says the man who literally kidnapped me.”
One corner of my mouth kicks up. As much as I crave her submission, I adore this combative side of her just as much. “I can assure you, everything is on the level. The text you sent your family said you’re staying the weekend with a friend for some much-needed privacy and self-reflection. The pilot owed me a favor, and I know the owners of the cottage. Any other concerns, your grace, or can we move on?”
She flicks her hands up from where her wrists are secured to the headboard. “Do whatever you want, Mr. Blackstone. It’s not as though I have any choice in the matter.”
“Ah, now we’re on the same page,” I say, flashing her a devious grin.
“Hardly. My page clearly states that you’ve cut me loose and returned my clothes.”
“But that would take away all the fun,” I say, anticipation stirring my cock.
She scoffs. “Fun? I don’t see how any of this—ahh!”
At the press of a button, Daria’s back bows from the silver bullet vibrating over her clit, giving her a small taste of what’s to come. Then I turn it off with another press to the remote. “Guess you didn’t notice the little number I strapped over your panties,” I quip with a smirk.
Catching her breath, she starts in on me. “You ass—”
Again, I cut her off with the small-but-mighty vibe, then slowly ramp up the intensity to the mid-point. Daria writhes on the bed, her moans filtering through the room. Inhaling deeply, I revel in my control over her body. Daria’s meant to be mine. I feel it deep in my bones.
Giving her a reprieve, I turn the bullet off and approach, careful to stay out of striking distance from her unrestrained feet.
“Here’s how this weekend’s going to work, Duchess. You’re my prisoner, which means I’ll do what I want with you, when I want it. However, you’re lucky I happen to be one of those rare, considerate kidnappers.” I ignore her dramatic snort and eye-roll. “We’ll use stoplight signals. Green is obvious. If you need me to slow down or check in with you, say yellow. Red makes everything come to an immediate and complete stop. Any questions?”
