The Villain’s Captive by Bella J.

20

Elijah had leftto get the cello in my room, and I scooted up, finally able to drape the sheets around my body. I wasn’t one of those confident women who could walk around naked, wearing their skin like it was a Vera Wang outfit. I had always been aware of my shortcomings, my lack of curves in all the right places, my pale white skin that lacked the kiss of the sun. All my life I had been the girl who never got noticed. The face that got lost in a crowd. And there was some part in me that fancied the idea of being the kind of obsession that would force a man to watch me. Stalk me. Observe me. Even if it had only started as a contract, a payment to a person he owed such a heavy debt. And now, knowing he had spent years protecting me, keeping me safe—it made the attraction I felt toward him even stronger.

I placed my palm on my forehead. God, I was losing my mind. Elijah had fucked me into a swirl of madness. “Jesus, Charlotte,” I muttered to myself and leaned my head to the side.

On the bedside table stood what looked like an old, vintage jewelry box with a beautiful floral design set in the wooden lid. I traced a finger over a scratch that stretched across the side, then picked it up. It was light, small, and intriguingly delicate.

I opened it, and inside it was a ballerina twirling as the music started playing.

Edelweiss.

“What are you doing?”

I slammed the lid closed and glanced at Elijah standing in the doorway with the cello. “I’m sorry. I was just looking at…um,” I hastily placed it down. “It’s a beautiful music box,” I managed to say without stuttering like a blabbering idiot.

He placed the cello down on the end of the bed, and I studied him as he walked over, the pair of joggers he pulled on a sexy change from the suit pants I was used to seeing him in. The tempting V that disappeared below the waistline of his pants had my fingertips aching to trace along it…down…down…until it reached the part of him that had me screaming earlier.

He picked up the music box, staring at it as if it held a thousand memories. “It was Ellie’s.”

My heart hiccupped.

“I bought it for her as a birthday gift, but never got the chance to give it to her.” His brown eyes settled on mine. “This is the first song I heard you play on the cello. Edelweiss.”

I smiled. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Play it for me.” He placed the music box down and reached for my hand, helping me up as I clutched the sheet. “I want to hear you play it.”

I swallowed, nervously brushing my fingers through my hair, now a knotted mess of raven curls.

“Elijah, I don’t know if I can play that song now that I know what it means to you.”

“You can.” He kissed me, his broad shoulders enveloping me. “And you will play it…naked.”

“What?” My cheeks burned, and he eased the sheet from my body, letting it drape around my feet.

“Naked.”

“Elijah, I can’t—”

His strong fingers circled around my neck, his palm pressing against the hollow below my throat. “Do not force me to retract my request and replace it with a demand.”

There was no mistaking the threat laced within his words, his darkened gaze holding promises of bad intent. I knew fear was the rational thing for me to feel while he had his hand around my throat, but instead I felt this twisted hunger, an intense thirst for him to dominate and demand. It was there, between my clenched thighs—pulsing, throbbing, begging to provoke. How was this even possible? Never before had I been made aware that this darker side of me existed. That I wanted to be dominated.

Maybe it was because of him—the man who had awakened the wicked part of my soul.

I squared my shoulders, scraping together every ounce of confidence I had, and sashayed past him, picking up the cello. My sex ached as I settled on the plush white couch, the fabric brushing against my naked pussy.

Elijah’s eyes were locked on me as he sat down on the edge of the bed, scrutinizing me with his hungered gaze.

Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be on a yacht, playing the cello…naked, for a man like Elijah. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it, embracing the erotic aspect of it all.

I spread my legs, Elijah’s gaze dropping and staring between my thighs. There was a dark flash in his eyes, and his cock hardened beneath the fabric of his black jogger pants.

Purposely, I took my time settling the cello between my legs, teasing him, tempting him, wondering how far he’d allow me to push.

With this bow in my hand, the cello’s neck resting against my shoulder, I closed my eyes and breathed, turning my focus from Elijah to the instrument. From the instrument to my heartbeat. And from my heartbeat to silence.

Silence.

It was a precious sound. A sound so many took for granted. A sound no writer or poet could put into words. It could only be experienced. Appreciated. Longed for.

People claimed to know what silence sounded like. But to most, silence was merely the absence of noise. To others, it was that time when you were finally able to hear your thoughts.

To me…it was this. This moment. This point in time when there was nothing, not even the sound of a single breath. The few seconds of peace when my mind was free of every thought. Free of the troubles that stirred the disquiet in my soul.

Free of the pain.

I settled my feet flat on the ground, my body relaxed yet posture firm. For thirteen years, every muscle was trained to release the tension so nothing hindered my pursuit of perfection. And no matter the chaos that surrounded me, or the pain that crippled me, there was nothing more important than that.

Perfection.

I held the bow between my fingers, leaned my head a little to the left as I focused on the smooth touch of the wood and the scent of rosin. That pine smell alone had the power to calm a thousand storms that raged in my veins. So familiar. Comforting.

During these moments, I never thought about what would come next. The road ahead was always dark, unknowing, and uncertain. But that was the part I loved the most. The mystery, the excitement of wondering what perfection would look like this time. It was never the same. Constantly bending and shaping differently than it did before.

I let out a breath and slowly moved the bow across the strings, the first note causing chills to flow down my back as the anticipation started to build. The deep yet soft sound reached inside my chest, allowing me to feel it—to feel the music that escaped my heart only to echo off the strings and create the most beautiful melody that had the power to make souls weep. Even the cruelest and wickedest couldn’t resist the seduction of music.

With every move of my fingers along the neck of the cello, the sound, the vibrato swept me away—out of this room, out of this world, far away from the pain.

Far away from…him.

Soon the music entranced me, the cello and I moving as one. Note after note, I laid my every fear, my every dream out on the ground beneath my feet, because there was no place for anything but the resonating tenor of the instrument that rested against my heart.

With my eyes closed, I moved the bow flawlessly across the strings, the music filling the room, touching the walls as it built—louder, stronger, more powerful. I would solely exist to help it find its way toward the crescendo it deserved. And once it did, it would explode into fragments of unsurmountable splendor.

This was my life. This was what defined me.

Music.

As the final note played, I lifted the bow away from the strings and exhaled. Silence slowly smothered the sound until there was nothing left of the music I had just played.

My chest rose and fell, my skin electrified and sweat beading at my temples. I opened my eyes and stared out in front of me, straight at him.

The man who demanded I play for him.

The man who took me.