Captive in the Dark (The Dark Duet, #1)

by C.J. Roberts

People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety—like light—was a façade. Underneath, the whole world was drenched in darkness.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry for not seeing this coming. I wanted to cry for the uncertainty of my future. I wanted to cry for wanting to cry. I wanted to cry because I was most likely going to die before I got to experience life. But mostly, I wanted to cry for being so horribly, tragically, stupidly female.

I was trapped. I was nearly naked. Weak. Scared. I was his.

“I’d watch what you say to me, Pet. There is a world of difference between me and him. One that I think you’ll learn to appreciate, despite yourself. But make no mistake; I am still capable of things you can’t imagine. Provoke me again and I’ll prove it.”

Yeah Livvie, don’t forget to look cute for the handsome kidnapper. Stupid!

Only women were capable of being so fucking sexy you wanted to lick them clean when they considered themselves dirty.

“I bet you’re just the right shade of pink. Now…keep your legs open. Don’t provoke me.”

“I hate you.” “You don’t hate me,” He said it like it was fact, like he knew me. He knelt between my open legs and leaned over me with his hands on the carpet. I turned my head to the side. He kissed me, first behind my ear, then down my neck. “But you wish you did.”

He was my tormentor and my solace; the creator of the dark and the light within.

I didn’t care that he would undoubtedly hurt me at any moment; right now, I just needed somebody to hold me, somebody to be kind to me, somebody to tell me exactly those words. It’s going to be okay. It wasn’t, of course, I knew that. But I didn’t care.

“With so much responsibility resting upon your shoulders, how is it you're still so innocent, still a trembling little thing needing to be told what to do?”

“I'll let you have that one, Kitten. I'll let you have it because it's told me so much about you already. And I like you; I like your saucy little mouth. I don't want to hurt it. I'd rather kiss it, just like this.”

If the first lesson every slave had to learn was to accept that their wishes did not matter, then the first lesson every master had to learn was not to be a slave to their own desires. The logic was simple, to command a slave, you must command yourself.

“You’re right. I don’t know your real name. But I don’t know mine either and it’s never stopped me from knowing who I am or taking what I want.”

He had caused each and every one of her tears, and to his complete consternation, they did not make him hard, they made him… profoundly sad.