Savage Tracker by Maggie Cole

10

Selena

"Why not?"I whisper, looking up at Obrecht. I've officially become more screwed up than I thought. It feels so good to have him order me around and be in charge. Something about letting him do whatever he wants with me, whenever he wants, digs into me.

His hot breath mingles with mine. Flames sear his orbs. "Come sit down."

"I need to get dinner out of the oven."

Obrecht gives me a chaste kiss and releases my hair. His palm stays on my ass. He guides me to the kitchen. "Do you need help?"

His question startles me. He wants to help me with dinner? How is this possible?

My job is to serve him. How will I please him if I don't?

"I have it. But thank you. Please go sit down. I want to please you, sir."

He studies me again with his intense stare. My flutters mix with worry.

"Did I do something wrong?" I fret.

"No, baby girl. I love that you want to please me, but you already do. I don't want you worrying about it."

"But you asked to help me," I state.

He arches an eyebrow. "Yes. Is something wrong with me asking you if you need help?"

I slide the oven mitt on and pick up the other one. "It's not your role to cook or help me."

"You are not my slave, Selena. You are my little dorogaya. I'm thrilled and very grateful you made dinner, but it is not your job. I do not expect it now and will not in the future. It is something nice you did for me, but I will never take it for granted."

I stare at the counter, wondering why everything has to be so confusing. If I didn't have dinner ready when Jack came home, even when he arrived home early with no warning, there were consequences to pay. Obrecht makes it sound so simple, but it all makes my chest tighten with anxiety.

He cups my cheeks. "You know what is going to make me happy?"

"No. What?"

He kisses my lips until I'm trembling in his arms. "Well, that makes me happy."

I can't help but beam from his praise, like he's Santa Claus telling me I've been good all year and deserve presents.

"Now I'm going to watch you remove the food from the oven in this sexy little outfit you got for me. Then I'm going to pour us a glass of wine and enjoy this dinner you made us."

"Us? Glass?" Once again, I'm confused.

"Do you not want a glass?"

"Umm..."

His face falls. "Tell me why you look so distraught, baby girl."

The strange feeling I have whenever I am about to tell Obrecht something I seem to have wrong fills my belly. "If I'm your bottom, don't you want me to use the bowls?"

His jaw clenches. The fire in his eyes turns to ice. "The bowls?"

"Umm... I was only allowed to have water. But I had to keep my hands behind my back and lap it from the bowl when Jack allowed me. He kept it on the other side of my food bowl. I was usually only allowed to drink after he finished eating." I point to the table. "I set them next to your chair."

Obrecht turns his head to the table, and his hands ball into fists. Red creeps up his neck and into his face.

Oh no. I said something wrong.

He's mad at me now.

I shouldn't have questioned the wine.

He beelines to the bowls, picks them up, then stares at the table. Time seems to stand still as I watch him take at least a dozen deep breaths. The more he doesn't speak or move, the more anxious I become.

He finally comes into the kitchen, puts the bowls in the cabinet, and takes out a plate, silverware, and another wineglass. He returns to the table and puts it next to his seat.

It only perplexes me more.

He tilts my chin. "You aren't an animal, baby girl. You don't deserve anything less than what I have. We will eat together, just like we did at breakfast. Nothing changes whether we are in public or private while eating, do you understand?"

I blink hard, not wanting to spend the evening crying like I did the previous night, but my emotions roll through my chest. I'm not sure what they mean or what to do with them. "I'm sorry I got it wrong."

"Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. And you will never kneel on the floor next to anyone during a meal or lap up water or food with your hands behind your back ever again. Is this crystal clear?" he sternly says.

"Yes, sir."

He closes his eyes briefly. "No more sirs right now, Selena. We are not in a session. I should not be allowing you to call me sir when we aren't. I am Obrecht. You are Selena. My hot, sexy dorogaya. You are beautiful and smart. No one should make you feel anything less."

I glance at his chest, my insides quivering, feeling very stupid all of a sudden. Why can't I get this right?

The oven beeps. Obrecht steps back, and I remove the tray from it and set it on the stove. I arrange the food on a platter and spin.

Obrecht pins his gaze on me. The corners of his mouth curve up. "I think you're spoiling me."

"How?"

He steps forward, reaches behind me, and pulls the apron string. "Sending me naughty pictures. Cooking for me. Choosing the perfect outfit then making me wait to see the rest of it." He pecks me on the lips and lifts the apron over my head. He picks up the tray and steps back. His eyes travel the length of my body. "Out of all the dinners I've had, this is my favorite."

"We haven't eaten yet."

"I know. Whatever the food tastes like is a bonus." His orbs dart to the bow on my chest then back to mine. "I'm looking forward to unwrapping my entire gift."

Heat bursts into my cheeks. The things he says to me always make my heart stutter. He seems so sincere. He never says anything mean to me. Every word that comes out of his mouth is so different from what I'm accustomed to hearing.

He motions for me to go first. "Please."

It's another thing I don't understand. Jack always went first, and I had to follow him. He would never have carried a food platter or had me sit at the table when we were home. Mentally, I know Jack didn't treat me right, but it isn't easy to wrap my mind around.

When I get in front of the table, I wait for Obrecht to choose his seat. He surprises me again and pulls out a chair. "Have a seat, my dorogaya."

I cautiously sit as straight as I can. It feels like my chest is squeezing my heart. I watch Obrecht put fish, vegetables, and some orzo on my plate, then his. He sits then fills our wineglasses.

I observe his every move. I'm a fish out of water, not sure what to do next.

He turns in his chair and kneads my shoulder with one hand. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"I'm-I'm not sure what to do," I admit.

He smiles. "Sure, you are. And I know you are because you ate breakfast with me at the restaurant."

"But that wasn't in your home."

"Right. And now I get to be in my house, with the sexiest woman on earth next to me, eating a dinner she made us, and drinking a glass of wine. Did I mention she's wrapped in a bow and making me harder than ever?"

I bite on my smile.

He hesitates then asks, "Will you feel different if you put your clothes on?"

I take a moment to ponder his question then shake my head. "No."

He grins. "Thank God. I might have cried if I had to cover you up."

A tiny laugh escapes me.

He kisses my cheek. "Relax. Enjoy dinner with me."

I take a deep breath. "Okay."

He holds his glass out. I pick mine up. "To a fabulous meal, our upcoming negotiations, and the sexiest woman I've ever had sitting at this table. Nostrovia."

"Nostrovia," I repeat, clink his glass, and we both take a sip of wine.

He takes a bite of the fish. "Mmm. This is delicious, baby girl."

I sigh in relief, not realizing I was holding my breath.

"Eat," he commands and nods to my plate.

I obey.

We eat in silence for a few minutes until he says, "Tell me about your day."

"You already know about it."

"No. I only know pieces. Fill in the blanks for me."

I take a sip of wine. "The store you sent me to had a nice girl named April. She helped me with everything."

"Yeah, she's great." He takes another bite of fish.

"You know her?"

He nods while chewing, swallows, and says, "She's a bottom at the club I attend."

My jealousy flares. I sit up straighter. "You've topped her?"

"No."

Curiosity replaces the green-eyed monster in me. "Why not?"

"She's into things I'm not."

"Like what?"

He wipes his mouth, takes a drink of wine, then turns to me. "I don't enjoy hurting women, even if it's what they want."

BDSM. Bondage and discipline. Dominance and submission. Sadism and masochism."So you aren't a sadist?"

He hesitates, opens his mouth, then stops.

"Did I ask the wrong question?"

"No. I'm a sadist but not during sex or with women, the way you think," he admits.

"How? I don't understand."

"I don't inflict physical pain. Mine is mental control. And it fuels me to hurt men who have it coming to them. So yeah, I'm a sadist."

"What do you do to them?"

A tornado of emotions swirls in his expression. Is it rage? Disgust? Loathing? I can't figure it out, but it's intense and sends a shiver down my spine. He taps his fingers on his wine goblet. "I won't show mercy with a man who hurts a woman. I get great pleasure out of every second I make him pay. It's why you don't need to worry about ever going back to Jack. Very shortly, I will have my day with him."

The chill digs into my spine deeper. I reach for his arm. "Please don't do anything that harms you."

Confidence replaces the tornado. "You don't ever have to worry about me. I know what I'm doing, but it's best if you never repeat this conversation we're having. I shouldn't speak about any of this."

"Then why are you?" I blurt out.

His voice drops. "I'm not sure. The only answer I have is I trust you."

"I trust you, too," I reply.

He drags his finger down my cheek. "I'm happy to hear that. What did you buy at the store?"

My stomach flips. "Can I show you?"

"Yes."

I get up and walk to the counter. The air in my lungs gets thicker. I pick up the bag and return to the table. My hands shake as I remove the black face hood, the leather neck-wrist restraint, and a long, thick, black kinetic anal plug.

Obrecht's face doesn't show any signs of approval or disapproval. He picks up the black face hood. It goes over your entire head, and there's only a hole for your mouth. I cringe and look down at the table.

"This is something you're afraid of?"

"Yes."

He rubs my back. "Tell me why."

My chest tightens so much, I get slightly dizzy. Flashbacks of Jack putting a similar one over my head and keeping me in it for days, maybe even weeks for all I know, causes bile to crawl up my throat.

Obrecht tugs me onto his lap and circles his arms around me. He positions my cheek on his chest and strokes my hair. In a low voice, he says, "He used to use this on you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, baby girl. When we finish, we're going to cut it up and light it on fire, okay?"

I glance up at him. "You aren't going to make me wear it?"

"No. And you should never let anyone put this on you again. This is a hard limit for you. What does the thought of me putting a blindfold over your eyes do to you?"

I inhale a sharp breath, my stomach flips, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

"This means your hard limit is nothing over your eyes. You make it very clear, understand?"

"How?"

"You say my hard limit is nothing over my eyes."

"That's it?" I ask, surprised I don't have to explain things.

"Yes."

I trace the snake on his neck. "Do you want to cover my eyes?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You don't like it or want it. It doesn't give me pleasure to instill fear in you or do anything you're not okay with." He kisses the top of my head then picks up the leather neck-wrist restraint. Two handcuffs connect to a long black strap. On the other end is a circular part to go around your neck and get adjusted. He strokes the leather and asks, "Is this something you like or are curious about?"

My heart beats faster. I could lie, but I don't want to. I swallow the big lump in my throat. "There wasn't anything in the store I like. I-I got that because you said you like bondage, and I think I might like it if it was with you. But he never used that on me," I add.

Obrecht freezes.

Maybe I shouldn't have admitted it.

He puts it on the table then kisses my forehead again. "Were you tied up in the past?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you have any good memories of it?"

I blink hard. A tear rolls down my cheek. "No. I have no good memories of anything. But I want to try it with you."

His arms tighten around me, and his chest pushes against me. "We will try bondage to see if you like it. If you don't, you say the safe word, and we'll stop. Do you understand?"

But what if he's enjoying it and I'm not?

"Selena, it's important to me we never keep doing something you aren't enjoying. And if you can't tell me, it worries me you won't tell someone else to stop. Promise me you will use the safe word if you don't like something."

"I promise," I reply.

He takes a sip of wine then picks up the anal plug. "This is something you're also curious about?"

"Yes. Are you mad I got two things I'm curious about and didn't do the assignment correctly?" April told me to get two things I was curious about and said my top wouldn't be upset, but now I'm not sure.

"I'm so happy you got two things and told me the truth. You get an A-plus on your homework, baby girl."

"I do?"

"Yes. Now, please tell me if you have used something like this before?"

I shake my head. "Jack just...um...." I bury my face in Obrecht's chest.

He sniffs hard. A few minutes pass, and he quietly asks, "What did he do?"

I don't leave the safety of his warm flesh and avoid his question. "April said it was to prep you for anal sex or to use during sex. She said she likes it, and it shouldn't hurt."

"No, it should not hurt. It should never, ever hurt. If it does, you're with the wrong guy. He's a dickhead who doesn't know what he's doing or is intentionally trying to hurt you. Either one is not someone you should be with," Obrecht snarls.

My pulse pounds harder everywhere—my veins, my throat, between my ears. I admit, "It always hurt with Jack."

"He's going to pay," Obrecht says so quietly, I almost think he didn't say it.

I leave the cocoon of his arms and straddle him then cup his cheeks. "I don't want to talk about him anymore. I want to forget him. Let's negotiate."

Obrecht's hardened face doesn't change. "Forgetting isn't always easy, Selena. I don't want to make things worse for you."

"You aren't. You couldn't," I insist.

He doesn't appear convinced.

"Look, you're the one with the normal, everything's perfect life. I'm the one with all the baggage. If I say it's possible to forget, then you should trust me since I'm the one who would know."

Obrecht's face fills with so much sadness, my heart almost breaks. He replies, "My life isn't perfect. I have plenty of baggage."

"Someone hurt you?" I gently ask.

His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head. "Not like they hurt you."

I stroke the side of his head. "It wasn't physical?"

"No."

"Sometimes mental pain is worse than physical pain," I state.

"What do you think is mentally worse than physical pain?" he asks.

"Love and betrayal." It flows out of me so fast and hits me in the face. I never really thought about it, but it's what I hate about Jack so much. I loved him. I gave him every ounce of trust I had. He betrayed me in too many ways to count. It hurt every time he did something new to try and destroy me.

Obrecht quietly says, "Yeah, that hurts pretty bad, baby girl."

Someone hurt him. The realization shocks me. He's so strong, dangerous, and fierce. I assumed he was untouchable, but it's clear he's not. His Natalia tattoo flashes in my mind, and I cup his cheek. "Natalia betrayed you?"

His eyes widen, and the color drains from his face. "What do you know about Natalia?"

"Nothing. I saw your tattoo and just put two and two together."

He turns away from me, staring out into the night sky, but I don't miss the pain emanating from him. I want to help him. To find out what happened and figure out how to make it all go away, so he doesn't feel this. I'm not sure how or what to do. If I could take it from him and add it into my pot of painful memories, I would.

He finally says, "Natalia was my sister. She was kidnapped, raped for a year in a whorehouse, and murdered. They threw her body on our doorstep."

I freeze and swallow hard. The pain looks so fresh on him. "When did this happen?"

He faces me. "About fifteen years ago. It's in the past."

Maybe I shouldn't ask him, but I want to know more about who would do such a horrible thing. "Who are they?"

His face hardens. Hatred fills his expression. "The Petrovs."

"I'm sorry. Should I know who they are?"

He puts his hands on my hips. "No, my dorogaya. They're the Russian mob, and I don't ever want you to know anything about them."

"You were friends with them? That's how you know about betrayal?" I ask.

He closes his eyes briefly. "No. That was someone else."

"A woman?" I ask. Jealousy rises in me again that he loved someone else. It mixes with hatred for whoever this woman is who had the gift of his heart and didn't cherish it.

"Yeah. It also happened a long time ago, but I know how betrayal from someone you love tears you in the gut," he admits.

"At least physical pain stops eventually," I point out.

His warm palms move to my ass. "Nothing I went through is close to what you experienced. I don't want you to ever take what happened to you and act like it is the same."

"Is love not love? Is betrayal not betrayal?" I ask.

He sternly replies, "It's not the same, my dorogaya."

"Why?"

"I never lost my freedom."

I'm not sure why his statement sits and stews in my mind. I know what a slave is. I understand Jack took my freedom and made me his. But I would willingly give Obrecht my freedom if it meant I would always be his. Jack was a bad Master. He was evil and cruel beyond measure. Everything about Obrecht is warm and feels safe, even though I could tell he was a dangerous man before he confirmed it.

He wouldn't ever hurt me.

That's what I thought about Jack.

I shudder.

"Are you cold?" Obrecht asks and rubs my back.

How screwed up am I? What am I doing?

I can't go back to what I used to do with Jack.

But he isn't doing what Jack did to me.

Obrecht studies me, but I'm not sure what to say. I glance down and see my breasts, with the bow neatly tied up around them, and my thoughts ping back and forth over whether this is right or wrong and what is wrong with me that I want anything resembling what Jack and I had.

My chest tightens, my heart pounds so fast, pains shoot through it. A quivering in my gut gets so rough, my entire body shakes. Goose bumps break out on my skin as sweat pops out.

"I have to go," I whisper and put my hand over my heart as another stinging sensation shoots through it.

Obrecht holds my face in his hands. "What's wrong, baby girl?"

I stare at his eyes, but they become blurry from my tears. Suddenly, I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't hear anything he says. The only things I hear are my thoughts and Jack's voice.

"I'll take care of you, Selena. You'll always be mine. Forever."

Then, he's screaming at me.

"You're thick as pig shit."

"Get in your cage."

"Kneel and don't move, or there will be consequences!"

"Bow your head! How dare you look at me!"

It cyclones over and over until I cover my ears, wanting it to stop but not sure how to make it.