When the food was ready, Dalton set the table at her end. He pulled her up and took her to her seat.
"Please," Laura whispered, "can't I have something to wear? I feel so exposed like this."
"You're fine the way you are," he argued.
"Maybe to you," she protested, "but what if someone comes?"
"No one's going to come without an invitation," he stated.
She didn't say anything more. Just looked at him with those huge violet eyes. Aarrghh! He never could resist those eyes when she looked at him full on.
"Fine!" He stormed off around the corner, coming back a few minutes later, with a silk robe and helped her into it.
"Thank you," said Laura, as she settled herself into the chair.
He just looked at her petulantly. "Eat, before you fall over," he finally said.
The meal tasted as good as it had smelled, and Laura wondered how he had become such a good cook. There were so many questions running thru her mind, but she was afraid to ask them.
Who knew what would set him off, and he'd haul her back down to her prison again. That was the last thing she needed! She would really have to play the submissive and get him to really let down his guard before she could try anything.
She couldn't let the fact that this was Dalton, her first and only love, get in the way of her freedom. She was half in love with him already. She couldn't get her feelings get any stronger.
Twelve years since he'd left her, bereft and broken hearted. She had been a mess after he had left her. No way, could she allow him that power again.
"What day is today?" Laura finally asked when she was finished eating.
"Friday," Dalton replied, as he finished his wine.
God, she thought. I've been here almost a week. He had kidnapped her on Sunday night. No one would really be looking for her, as she realized too late that she had taken two weeks off for vacation.
She had planned on giving Bryan her answer to his proposal, then taking time for herself, before settling into her new role as his fiancΓ©. And she hadn't called her mother again since that first phone call.
It finally dawned on her that his timing couldn't be more perfect. "I've been planning this for a long time" he'd told her. She sucked in a breath and stared at him.
"You've been stalking me, haven't you? That's why you knew when to kidnap me. This isn't just coincidence! You knew my plans!" Laura railed at him.
"Pfft! I was not stalking you," he replied. But he didn't look her in the eye.
"Maybe YOU weren't, but you were definitely having me followed," she retorted. "You probably even bugged me."
Dalton looked at her. Yes, he knew she was smart. That's why he'd been keeping her in a sexual haze for the last few days. Her eyes were clear, and her brain cells were now kicking in. Can't have that happen too fast... He stood and quickly cleared the table. Laura thought to help clean up, since he had cooked, and stood up to help.
"Sit!" he barked.
Laura sat back down, wondering what had set him off. Leaving the dishes in the sink, he went back to the table. But instead of sitting, he went around to the back of her chair, pulling it out and turning her towards the windows.
She made to stand up, but he pushed down on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. Slowly, he slid his hands down her arms, to the sash at her waist and untied it, pulling it out of its loops.
Laura sat still, wondering what he was up to. No good, apparently, as he came around and knelt down, taking her ankles and tying each of them to the the outside of the chair legs.
She tried to cover herself, but it didn't do much good. Her legs were now spread, and the robe was caught under her. He stood up, and she watched him warily. Looking beyond him, the bright sun reminded her it was still daylight. She was open for all the world to see, should someone gain the deck and look in. She flushed beet red.
"What are you doing?!" she demanded.
"Whatever I want," he replied and left the room.
She tried to move her feet, but they wouldn't budge. Spread as she was, she couldn't bend down far enough to untie herself. She tried to make the chair move, but the wood-carved chair was heavy. Finally exhausted from her exertions, she slumped back in the chair.
She hoped he was a good as his word, that no one came around uninvited. She heard him come back in the kitchen and turned her head to look. He was carrying what looked to be a thinly braided leather whip. Oh shit... she thought, and sat still, not wanting to give him any reason to use it.
Dalton went and sat on the window seat opposite her, his eyes raked her from head to toe, coming to rest at her exposed mound. So pink and plump like a peach. I'll be having me some of that later, he thought to himself. His cock swelled in anticipation. He looked up, and she tried to cover her breasts with the robe. The whip sang, as he snapped it at her. The tips barely grazed her breast, but it stung, nonetheless. Sucking in a breath, she let go of the robe and stared at him.
"Take the robe off," he ordered.
She hesitated, and the whip sang again. This time, striking her other breast. She quickly slipped her arms free. Once again, she was totally exposed to his gaze.
"Touch your breasts," he commanded.