My Billionaire Captor Read online

  “Fucking let go baby…come with me!” Those words and that last touch have me exploding around him arching my body against him I spasm and scratch my way from his shoulders to the center of his back while he slams into me one last time. We come together, him with a loud grunt and me with a passionate gasp. I cling tightly to his body and bury my face in his damp neck. “I’m never gonna let you go Marcus.” “I’m counting on that baby.”

  Chapter 16

  “So…I’m calling Dr. Carlson today.” Its Saturday…my voice is back. It’s rough but I can communicate thank God because both of us being disabled was really not working well, except for the sex, the sex is phenomenal. I’ve given him a few days, at his insistence, but his vision isn’t returning and I’m justifiably concerned. No personality changes as of late and I’m almost used to the suffocating shadows we have all the time, Elijah and Saint are always hovering.

  He’s having a lot of headaches, he won’t come right out and say it but I can tell. Maybe I’m learning his trick? He’s also taken to touching me in the same place repeatedly. Every 30 minutes or so he reaches out to touch my arm. I don’t know if he’s getting a sense of my location or just reassuring himself I’m still here, still real.

  It doesn’t bother me, I love it when he touches me, it’s just a new habit I’m adjusting to. In bed we have always slept in each other’s arms, when we can actually sleep. Lately, we occasionally move apart but his foot is always touching me, always. I’ve decided to broach the subject of treatment again while we dress for the day. “Imani” he says in that warning voice but it’s not working this time. “Marcus, I’m not messing around anymore. I’m calling and that’s it. We don’t have to go home, he travels all over I’m sure he will come here.”

  I’m trying to head off any attempts at a subject change, I know that’s his next excuse, I don’t want to go home. Futile as my efforts are I’m talking double time trying to keep ahead of his thoughts. “Why must we go over this again Imani? I’ve seen everyone who matters. I’ve tried a million treatments, this thing’s not going anywhere.” He says tapping his temple. “Can’t we just enjoy the time we have together, now while we’re in Italy?” “No.” plain and simple, I’m not even going to argue, it’s my way or the highway with this.

  It may just be the first time someone successfully tells him no. I refuse to give up on him, and us. “No? Really, that’s all you’ve got? Just no?” “Yes.” Can’t argue with that! He places his hands on the edge of the vanity, arms extended and stiff he steps back and drops his head down in what I pray is defeat. I stand still as a statue still holding my breath waiting for the verdict just inside the bathroom door, half dressed in jeans and a bra. “Fuck Imani, OK.”

  A shriek escapes my lips and I do a little scissor skip toward him while he straightens up anticipating my approach. I was going to keep it cool if he said yes, which I really thought I’d have to try harder for, but I can’t help it! He uses his superman senses and catches me when I throw myself at him, clasping my hands around his neck and my legs around his waist with an “Umph” he stumbles a little and nuzzles his face into my neck and my hair, he breaths deep.

  “Thank you, thank you, and thank you.” I murmur and he moans. “Only for you baby. And only because you are relentless and you own me.” Does he know how much he owns me too? “I take very good care of my belongings Mr. Castillo, I wouldn’t insist if it weren’t for your own good.” And mine. “Mmmhmm. I’ve noticed. Speaking of belongings I have something of yours that I recall I spent a small fortune on and I’d like you to wear again.” I think for a second and realize it must be the bracelet, the one my dad was keeping in his safe until I could return it.

  The one I called Tiffany’s about and they refused to accept it back. The one I secretly love but am terrified to wear for fear of losing it or having someone cut my arm off trying to steal it. Yea, that’s the one. “Ah Marcus…I don’t know.” “No arguing, you’re wearing it, and if you want me to let your doctor friend look inside my brain you’ll never take it off again.”

  Well I guess that’s a deal I will have to learn to live with, and if it helps him believe he had some sort of negotiating leverage in the situation, well, even better. “All right.” I release my legs and slide down his muscular body, pressing up against him as I go and feeling him hard through the thick towel wrapped around his waist. My mind goes to that fuzzy mixed up place that feels like I’m high on pain medication and amphetamines and I stick to him like one half of the magnet set that we are. He presses his cock harder into my tummy and I whimper.

  Do all couples fall apart every time they touch like we do? If they do how does the world keep functioning? I could be between this man’s legs twenty four hours a day seven days a week and I’m pretty damn sure he would be ok with that too. “It’s in the closet.” Huh? I pull away dazed to look at his face. “What?” He chuckles looking at me with his unseeing eyes, smirks and winks, good lord I’m a goner. “Your bracelet baby, it’s in the jewelry box in the closet.” “Ohhh.” Is all I can manage, I’m hypnotized, under his spell, in an Marcus trance. He turns me by my shoulders and gently nudges me toward the door. “Aww.” I protest disappointed. “I want to take you somewhere today, get dressed honey, we’ll have plenty of time to play.” “Gahh.” I stomp away to the bedroom and into the enormous walk in closet toward the island where the jewelry box sits.

  “You know I love it when you stomp baby!” he calls after me. Why? Why does he think rustling me up and then teasing me is fun? I move my white teddy bear that I’ve named Diamond off of the box and open it expecting just the bracelet but wow, my quarter of a million dollar bracelet isn’t the only thing in there. Shit. I inhale sharply while I take in the contents of what looks like a queens collection of jewelry.

  “You like?” Damn he’s good at sneaking up on me! “I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you heard me coming behind you.” “No it’s fine I just, just all of this.” I motion to the jewelry. “Who does it belong to?” “Well you of course.” He steps toward me and touches my arm in his new way, “Who else?” “But I’ve never seen any of this other than the bracelet.” “I chose every piece for you. Tiffany’s is quite fond of me lately.” “Ahh, ok? I um, I only promised to wear the bracelet though.” “I’ve made you uncomfortable.” “Oh, Marcus I’m just not used to things like this. I know how much the bracelet alone cost and its nerve racking.” “You’ll wear it.” “Yes Marcus, I said I would.” I pluck the diamond and sapphire cuff from the box and place it on my wrist. “There, happy?” “Yes, very.”

  He moves to me and I step just out of his reach. “Ok, well, then get dressed and I’ll go call Dr. Carlson.” Two can play at this game. Turning, I snag the first shirt off a hanger and leave him eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape with surprise in the closet. Deciding to be sassy I call over my shoulder “Oh…and close your mouth before a bug flies in there.” I’m feeling smug and cheerful as I head to the kitchen to see what Maria cooking for breakfast.” But before I get too far I hear him say “Oh my Imani, that smart mouth of yours is going to earn you a spanking.”

  Whoa, if I were closer I’d ask if that were a threat or a promise, but something in his voice tells me to be careful. I’d feel a little cruel leaving him there if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes how Marcus navigates around this estate so skillfully. Things are about to start looking up, I can feel it. As soon as I can get ahold of Dr. Carlson and convince him to see Marcus I think I’ll finally be able to take a normal breath.

  Chapter 17

  Sightseeing with a blind man, this ought to be interesting. After a super calorie filled breakfast that ended up nauseating me more than anything we have headed out. Mr. Black is driving us in an identical Maybach to the one at home, or maybe…no couldn’t be the same one…could it? Elijah is following in a black Volvo SUV. I wonder why we need two vehicles but decide not to ask, I might not like the answer. “Where are we going? Where exactly are we?” I ask as Marcus slide
s his hand into mine on the seat between us.

  “We are on the shore of Lake Como in Italy, on our way to Bellagio, it’s a resort town on the lake and the most beautiful place on the planet. I’m sorry I won’t be able to see it with you but I’ve been living here off and on for years so I will be a good tour guide, I promise.” I gaze out the window and realize that if the town is anything near as beautiful as the scenery here he’s got to be right, but then again he always is.

  A light dusting of snow covers the ground and trees. As we approach town the beginning of Christmas decorations start to appear, twinkly lights and nativity scenes of all shapes and sizes are in front of every shop and house. We bump along on the quaint stone streets where the villas rise and fall with the landscape, beautiful old buildings pepper the area, churches, bakeries and little eclectic shops line the road. Everything sparkles with the magic of the upcoming holidays and I feel a little homesick for my family and friends. “You ok? Awfully quiet over there.” “I thought you always knew what I was thinking, your radar off today?” “No. I just thought I’d give you the opportunity to tell me yourself what’s on your mind.” “Ohhh, really?” I laugh. “Yes, really.” “So you do know what I’m thinking, but you’re going to let me tell you anyway?” “Well if you want to be sassy about it I’ll just prove it, you’re homesick.” he says staring straight ahead without as much as a blink.

  “Ok, I know you read my body language and all but how could you possibly know that?” “I’ve taken you away unexpectedly during the holidays, you spend holidays with your family, yes?” “Yes” “See? I’ve also had the pleasure of knowing exactly how Bellagio looks and feels at Christmastime, it’s a fairy tale world that makes any person yearn for family and tradition. Satisfied?” “Yea…” I breathe as we travel deeper into what feels like a town inside a snow globe.

  I almost expect that any second someone will turn us upside-down and shake the snow from the ground to mix up the winter wonder land. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” he says loosening his grip on my hand to slide it behind me and pull me close. I rest my cheek on his chest and he slips his hand into my coat between the buttons cupping my breast and kisses me on the top of my head. “Yes, breathtaking Marcus, I’ve never seen a place more enchanting.” I’m speechless as I watch the town go by.

  “I’m taking you to church.” This, however, has my attention. “Church?” I haven’t been to church in years, and for some reason I can’t imagine Marcus attending either. Although, after thinking about it he’s always worn a crucifix, and I’ve seen him pray on his knees at my bedside and also when I found him traumatized in his closet, it’s not such a foreign idea after all. “We won’t attend a service but I want to show you the Basilica di San Giacomo.” “Do you attend church?” Figuring out Marcus Castillo is like being a collector of rare books, always on the lookout for one but when it comes along you have a hard time believing it’s real.

  “I did growing up, so many I can’t even remember them all but Aunt Angelica was Catholic and I always considered myself Catholic.” Oh yes, his sick twisted mother was a religion fanatic, I’d almost forgotten. “But you don’t go anymore?” “I go on Easter and Christmas, for my aunt, but I’m not a man who belongs in church Imani, I know God is a forgiving entity but …I’ve burned my bridges with Him I’m afraid.”

  There’s that squeezing of my heart again, I can’t imagine feeling as if your creator couldn’t love you anymore. Even at my lowest I knew I had worth in Gods eyes. “Stop.” I look up at his beautiful olive skinned face and I know he feels my sorrow and that he interprets it as pity. “No.” I whisper effectively putting an end to this conversation just as we pull into the parking lot of the Basilica. Marcus’s hand still inside my coat over my breast pinches my nipple quick and sharp.

  “Let’s go to church baby.” he says snapping us out of the seriousness of the moment. “Ouch.” “Mmmm, I’ll make that all better later, along with the red ass you’re going to have after I spank you for all the times you’ve used your smart mouth with me. I have some serious catching up to do.” He smirks my favorite tiny half smile and a thrill of excitement rushes through me, anticipation and maybe a little fear. “Ready?” he tacks on like we were discussing a grocery list.

  “Uh...yea.” The door is opened for us by Elijah . Marcus slides out first and then he tugs me out into the cool Italian winter air. He loops his arm through mine. “I’m good with public places but not like at home, I’ll keep ahold of you if you don’t mind.” “Of course not, are Mr. Black and Elijah going to lead? I don’t know where to go?” “No, they will be on our flanks, I have a general idea of where we are.” And he really does, we stroll casually to the doors of the church and inside where the warm air smelling of incense envelopes us.

  When my eyes adjust to the dim lighting I stand in awe at the phenomenal beauty before me. A long aisle down the center of the cathedral leads a mammoth altar piece completely made of gold that reminds me of the cascading villas I have seen out the windows of Marcus’s house. “We can go up front and sit so you can see better.” He encourages me in a hushed voice. In the middle of all this history, art and religious symbolism his attentiveness is turning me on, what the hell?

  Tightening his hold on me he moves us forward along the aisle where locals and visitors sit in wooden pews behind which are arches on both sides that open into smaller separate chapels, most of those are empty. A few local people kneel holding rosaries, eyes closed, murmuring quiet prayers and tourists are obvious, cameras dangling, talking and pointing at sculptures and murals around the dim somber church.

  Marcus doesn’t mess around as he leads me to the front pew, our entourage no more than 5 steps behind us. I feel so silly having babysitters but I guess we’ve earned them after last week, my neck is finally looking marginally better. The bruising has changed to green and now yellow. Today is the first day we have actually left the house and I’ve strategically placed a lavender silk infinity scarf around my neck to cover the evidence of Marcus’s attack. It’s so strange to think that happened a little more than a week ago.

  No sign of evil Marcus since he lost his sight, I wonder if the two symptoms are connected. Mr. Black and Elijah take their places in the pew behind ours. Their appearance blends with the locals but not their actions, always scanning the area, four eyes on our every move. I can’t stop gawking at the architecture and history around us. Silently, Marcus reaches to turn my face to mirror his, tracing my hair line with the tips of his fingers and then along the side of my face I’m drawn closer by our internal magnets.

  Right there in front of God and everyone he covers my mouth with is and as always the world crumbles under my feet and we are alone in that bubble, seemingly invisible to anyone around us. His long strong fingers slide through my hair and grasp my nape, his touch much more insistent than his kiss which stays light and tender. Heart in my throat he speaks to me with his lips still on mine. “Come with me.” No time to appreciate the intricate murals or the huge pulpit made of stone that 10 people could stand behind comfortably and not be seen. He’s summoning me and I’m following blindly.

  Ironic that he is physically blind but I am emotionally blinded by the feelings I share with him. We stand and Saint and Elijah begin to rise when Marcus places one finger on the back of our pew with so much authority I’m just as intimidated by this tiny gesture as they are. Marcus’s face reminds me of a roman soldier commanding his army to fall back and wait for further instruction. They look at him and back at me, eyes darting with concern. I mouth “It’s ok” but I have no idea if it is.

  I’m being steered, body buzzing with a million bees and a trillion butterflies toward the opposite opening of the pew from the center aisle where we entered just a moment ago. One hand on my waist he guides me to one of the side chapels where he calmly feels around minimally for a wooden lighting stick, holding it in my direction. I gaze into his striking green eyes that glow and flicker in the soft candle light.

  I
jolt myself back to the here and now with a tiny shake of my head and take his hand leading it to a flame, slowly waiting for it to catch and then spreading it to a fresh wick in a new votive. The entire chain of events feels so intimate, nearly erotic, if it weren't for our location I’d think he was trying to seduce me. As if I needed seducing. I help him extinguish the flame in the container of sand with a sizzle.

  He reaches up and touches me on my shoulder, his new habit but this time it’s not the brief brush, he squeezes my arm and pulls me to his chest. I glance around, no one is looking in our direction. Saint and Elijah are still in the second pew, Saint scanning the church and Elijah looking our direction but purposely not making eye contact with me. We turn as one entity and I find myself right inside the arch that separated the chapel from the main church against the cold grey stone wall.

  It’s dark here, only lit by the votive candles but still public and it’s a church, a church! “Look at me.” He growls and I bring my eyes front and center, returning all my attention to him, focusing only on him. “That’s better. No worrying. You and me, it’s just you and me baby. Nobody else but us.” He soothes while unbuttoning my coat and tugging my shirt from my jeans. I shift nervously on my heels and he steadies me. “You with me here?” “Yesss.” I hiss exhaling all the air from my lungs and allowing my muscles to go limp. “Yes, that’s it, that’s my girl. I knew you would come along with me.”

  Uh yea…Who am I again? You’re a slut who’s going to have sex in a Basilica in Italy a tiny far away voice says. Shut up a louder one scolds, go on now work with him the naughty me urges and I listen to her. I arch my back into his capable hands and he slides them into my jeans cupping my ass thrusting me against him roughly, claiming me as his own. I work on the zipper of his jacket with shaky hands, head swimming with his signature smell of Eucalyptus and spearmint mixed with candles and incense. I wish I could bottle the combination of scents.