Bride by Sara Fields

Chapter 3

For several long minutes, I just lay across the desk, sort of in a state of shock and muted fury. I almost couldn’t believe what just happened. Maybe it was a dream. With a soft cry, I finally reached back and touched my backside.

It was still warm.

Grayson Asher had called me to his office to offer to buy my business. I’d refused and he’d decided to spank me and belt my backside. He’d done what he’d wanted just because he’d wanted to, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do.

The worst part of it was that he decided that I was his bride.

It wasn’t possible. There was no way the most eligible bachelor in the country had just decided to make me his wife. Not someone like me. No one ever really wanted a woman like me.

I was always so focused on work that the men who had been interested in me soon grew bored and broke it off in search of someone who had more time to dote upon them. It had happened so many times that I’d given up on finding love in the first place. It had always seemed so selfish to even try when there were so many more important things at stake, one more experiment to complete, one more hypothesis to test. My work was endless.

I swallowed hard and eventually managed to push myself off the desk. My skirt was still gathered above my hips, and I took a moment to grasp my bottom cheeks in my hands, soothing away the ache while also exploring the slightly raised welts the belt had left behind. My clit pulsed almost angrily at his absence.

I should be relieved he hadn’t forced me to orgasm, and I should be grateful he hadn’t taken advantage of me, but instead I just felt angry, frustrated, and increasingly on edge. My pussy pulsed needily, and I hummed with unfulfilled aggravation.

There was no way I was going to put my fingers between my thighs either, not because I wanted to be obedient, but because I didn’t want to be thinking about his cock inside me when I came. I wouldn’t fall prey to a man like him. A rich, cocky, arrogant asshole who thought he could take what he wanted without consequence.

I let go of my bottom and rushed to put my skirt back into place. Maybe this had been some sordid fantasy of his to chastise me for refusing to take his money, but it didn’t really matter anymore. He’d left the room. I was safe now by myself.

It was time for me to leave.

With a deep breath to steady myself, I adjusted my shirt and my skirt, making sure I didn’t look like I’d just been taken advantage of by the CEO of Asher Enterprises. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping it didn’t look too messed up before I picked up my laptop bag and slung it over my shoulder.

I grasped my coffee and took a sip, trying to ignore just how cold it had gotten in the time since I’d drunk it last. To be honest, right now I wished it was something far stronger.

A shot of tequila would be nice. Really. Fucking. Nice.

I pulled back my shoulders and walked down the hall after him. When I reached the sliding door, I waited for it to open, but it didn’t. Impatient, I knocked on it in hopes the secretary outside would hear it, but after a minute of nothing happening, I growled with frustration. I looked around for a button to push, anything to get it to open. When I didn’t see anything, I tried to manually force it open and that didn’t work either.

Fuck. I hope I wasn’t locked in here.

For another minute, I stared at the door. Maybe it was just slow. Finally, when I was convinced that it wouldn’t just open if I waited long enough, I walked back into the office and started to look around for some other way to get out of here.

The office itself was simple. His massive wooden desk was in the center of the room, occupying a significant piece of the square footage and just as grand as I would expect from a billionaire like him. There wasn’t much on top of it aside from a mug with a few pens inside it. I tried to open and search the drawers, but many of them were locked. The center one opened though, and I found his laptop inside. I pulled it out and sat down at his desk. I opened it and powered it on.

Dammit. Password protected.

That wasn’t going to get me very far. There weren’t even any hints sitting out on the desk that would help me make any sort of educated guess.

I sat back in the chair with a huff and looked around. There was a comfy-looking loveseat along the wall, with a chest next to it. I wandered over to that next and much to my surprise, it opened right up. It was a small liquor cabinet, but it didn’t have anything other than whiskey and scotch in decanters inside it. I groaned in disappointment. I hated both.

Not even a bottle of wine. Typical big shot billionaire man.

Fully striking out on searching his office, I turned to my own laptop bag and pulled out my phone. I was really annoyed now, furious even. I was locked in this office against my will with no way out.

It was time to fuck things up for Grayson Asher. He was going to pay for what he did to me.

I dialed 911.

It rang normally at first, before a soft clicking noise sounded in my ear. I looked at my phone for a second, thinking my call had failed or something, but then it started ringing again. I put it back to my ear and waited until finally a dispatcher picked up on the other end.

“Nine-one-one operator. What is your emergency?” a male said. He sounded kind. Perhaps he was an older man or something, but immediately I felt a sense of relief to hear someone else’s voice.

“I’ve been assaulted, and I’m being kept against my will,” I began.

“What is your name?”

“Dr. Zoe Parker,” I answered.

“Do you know where you are?” he asked.

“I’m in the Asher Enterprises building, top floor. I’m locked inside.”

“Can you tell me about the assault? Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

My mouth went a little dry and a flush of heat enveloped my face. I licked my lips and tried to figure out where to start.

“I came here for a business meeting with Grayson Asher, but when I refused his deal, he decided to hit me. I won’t be surprised if I have a bruise tomorrow,” I answered. I was mostly certain that I wouldn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. I just wanted Grayson to pay for what he did. “I think I’ll be okay, but I need help.”

“Where did he hit you?” the dispatcher pressed. I narrowed my eyes. What did that matter? Why did he need to know that?

“He hit my backside,” I answered softly.

“He spanked you then,” the man continued. He didn’t sound surprised or angry. Instead, he sounded curious.

“Yes. He spanked me.”

“Did he spank you with his hand?”

“Yes.” I blanched.

“Is that all he used?” the dispatcher continued.

“No. He used his belt,” I said, feeling warmth spread across my face. The man couldn’t see me, but I was dying a little bit on the inside in embarrassment all the same.

“How hard did he spank you? Does it hurt for you to sit?” he pressed.

“He spanked me pretty hard. I’m quite sore,” I answered, as I slid my free hand around to cup my bottom. I could feel the warmth through my skirt, and I chewed my lip. Was this normal? Did nine-one-one operators need this level of detail? Why wasn’t it enough to say that he’d spanked me and leave it at that?

“Did the spanking arouse you? Are you wet?” he pushed, and a quiet shamed cry escaped my lips before I rushed to hang up the phone. Maybe he was just some perverted old man and I’d just been unlucky to get him on the line. I sat there at the desk, trying to grapple with the weirdness of the whole thing. I stared at the phone for a while. Eventually, I built up enough nerve to try again.

I dialed and waited. The phone rang and then it did the same strange clicking sound again. I told myself that it was probably just weird reception this high up in a building. I waited and finally someone picked up on the other end. This time, it was a woman and I sighed happily. Good. This was good.

“Nine-one-one operator. What is your emergency?”

“My name is Dr. Zoe Parker. I’m in the penthouse of Asher Enterprises and I’ve been assaulted. I’m locked inside and I can’t get out. I need help,” I explained, giving all the pertinent information she would need to be able to send help.

“Who hurt you?”

“Grayson Asher,” I answered.

“Is he still there with you?”

“No. I’m alone and locked in his office. Top floor,” I replied with relief. This call seemed to be going better at least. The last guy must have just been a weird creepy fluke or something.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” the woman asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Can you barricade the door?”

“I don’t think so. All of the furniture in here is pretty heavy,” I said softly, looking around the room. I could maybe move some of it, but it wouldn’t do much good with a sliding door. If anything, he’d just be able to push it out of the way and then that would probably just make him angry.

“What do you think will happen if he comes back?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He’d probably take me against my will.”

“You said it was Grayson Asher that assaulted you, correct?”

“Yes,” I replied simply.

“How did he hurt you?” she asked. I chewed my lower lip. This woman seemed nice enough and it appeared that she was taking me seriously, unlike the last guy.

“He tore my panties off, spanked me with his hand, and thrashed me with his belt,” I finally managed to answer, trying to sound brave.

“Did he rape you, Zoe?” she asked softly. She was probably asking so that if they needed to, the first responders could bring a rape kit of some kind.

“No. He didn’t.”

“What do you think will happen if he comes back?”

“I… I think he might rape me. He penetrated me with his fingers already. I don’t know what else he’s capable of,” I replied. I didn’t tell her where his fingers had been. I didn’t admit that he’d slid one into my bottom using my own wetness. I told her none of that because I didn’t think I would be able to.

“Do you think he would fuck you very hard if he came back?”

“Yes,” I squeaked.

“Do you think it will hurt if he does that?”

I just whimpered at the question. I knew how big he was. I knew that it would.

“Do you think you would come all over his cock?”

This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be an emergency operator. They didn’t need to know things like that. She was fucking with me, she had to be. It wasn’t just that though. Maybe Grayson was behind it. On second thought, he had to be. There was no way this was normal.

I pulled the phone away from my ear when I heard her asking about where he would fuck me and how he would do it. Would it be on my back? Would it be face down with my ass up? I couldn’t take it anymore. I pressed the end call button with a quiet sob.

Fuck me. What had I gotten myself into?

For a moment, I stared out the window at the rolling waves of the ocean crashing on the beach a few miles away. It was soothing in a way, and when I finally looked back at my phone there was a notification waiting on the home screen. I tapped on it. It was a text from one of the scientists working for me, telling me about an experimental result she was excited about. Instead of texting her back with my own elation, I decided to call her.

The phone rang once, then twice before it made that strange clicking sound again. I swallowed and someone on the other line cleared his throat.

“Susanna?” I asked hesitantly.

“No. It’s not Susanna,” a male voice purred on the other line, and I gritted my teeth.

“Grayson,” I snarled.

He chuckled and I wanted to punch him straight in the nuts. I closed my eyes. I knew what the clicking sound was now. He was rerouting my calls. I hadn’t gotten through to nine-one-one the first time or the second time. In all likelihood, I’d just probably connected with one of his employees in the building. The woman I’d talked to had likely just been the secretary sitting right outside his office. There would be no police officers coming to arrest him. No ambulance. No one would come to help me.

I was trapped here.

I swallowed hard, trying to think of some other way out, but coming up with nothing. Even if I powered on my laptop, the Wi-Fi would be password protected. I could probably hot spot from my phone, but he probably had some way to block that too. He was rich enough that he probably had all sorts of technology to keep a woman like me captive inside this place.

Fuck me with a whole goddamn telephone pole.

“How are you feeling, Zoe? Is your little pussy still soaking wet for me?”

“Fuck off, asshole,” I spat.

“Just as feisty as I left you,” he replied gently, but I could hear the amusement in his voice.

“What do you want from me? Why aren’t you letting me leave?” I said, not even trying to stop my voice from rising a little bit.

“I wanted to let you know I’ll be back soon to help you pick out a wedding dress. I expect you to be showered by the time I get there,” he said, and the wall clicked behind me. I turned and watched as the bookcase along the wall slid to the side, revealing what appeared to be a grand penthouse apartment behind it.

That was convenient.

“I’m not going to marry you. I’m not your bride,” I argued.

“Obey me, Zoe. You won’t like what happens if you don’t. Then again, maybe you will. I’ve seen firsthand just how wet that little pussy gets when you’ve been properly handled,” he said and before I could scream some sort of insulting retort back at him, he hung up the phone like a right proper fucking bastard.

That didn’t stop me from literally shrieking with my fury. I wanted to throw my phone, but that wouldn’t solve anything. With a sigh, I walked toward the wall, curious enough to put aside my anger for a hot second.

I paused at the doorway, just looking into the penthouse suite for a moment and taking it all in. If I had thought his office was impressive, his apartment was that much grander. There was a massive living room area with the biggest television I’d ever seen. The couches were plush and luxurious, some more like beds than loveseats with more soft fur-covered pillows than I could count. In the center of the room was a glass coffee table with a single full glass of wine and a folded piece of paper.

I stared at it, trying to decide if drinking it would be risky. Grayson didn’t seem like a killer. Whoever he really was, I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t poison me.

Fuck it. I was going to drink it.

I walked over and reached for the folded piece of paper.

Zoe,

Please enjoy a glass of your favorite wine. All your favorite toiletries are waiting for you in the master bathroom. Enjoy yourself.

Grayson

I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out how he’d know what my favorite wine was. There wasn’t a chance in hell. I liked a very small vineyard out of Napa Valley and the only way to get it was at the winery itself. They weren’t well known enough to be sold in stores and it was a long car drive every time I wanted to go and buy a few bottles, but I did it because it was that good.

I took a sip and lo and behold, I recognized the taste. It was just as delightful as it always was, and I stood there for several long moments just trying to figure out if I liked that he knew my favorite wine without me telling him or if it was something that should terrify me.

It definitely shouldn’t be making my pussy wet.

I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth before I took another sip. I decided it didn’t much matter. He was a rich bastard. If anything, he’d probably just bought that information off of someone. Actually, the most likely option would be that he’d tracked down the vineyard using my credit card statements or something. He probably owned those companies too.

With a sigh, I kicked off my heels. They were starting to hurt my feet. I wandered past the living room, finding a chef’s kitchen just down the hall. The countertops were made of the most gorgeous marble I’d ever seen. There were enough stainless-steel appliances to run a small restaurant and when I opened the fridge, it was fully stocked with the freshest looking fruit and vegetables, as well as several bottles of expensive champagne. There were even a few bottles of white wine.

My stomach growled.

My gaze dipped and there was a small board covered with sliced cheeses and olives. I grabbed it and pulled it out. I hoped that it would annoy him that I was going to eat some of it.

I popped a huge green olive in my mouth and moaned at the decadent taste of it. It was perfect.

Money certainly bought some pretty delicious things. I picked up a slice of creamy-looking cheese. I didn’t know much about all the different kinds, but it would probably be just as delicious as the olive was. When I took my first bite, the milky flavors burst across my tongue, and I couldn’t help but moan in delight.

I ate several more pieces, knowing that every single bite of it was costing him money. When I’d had my fill, I put it back in the fridge and continued to explore the rest of his apartment. I’d remember it was there later if I was still a prisoner in this place.

As I walked through the ritzy place, I ran my fingers along the couches, I touched the blankets folded on the ledges, as well as the soft pillows thrown haphazardly across them. All the different fabrics were luxuriously soft, and I couldn’t get enough of them. Eventually, I wandered down a hallway, enjoying the scenic paintings on the walls as well as several vases full of fresh blooming flowers along the way.

I found a large guestroom and a number of exquisitely decorated bathrooms. There was another sitting room, a cozy theater room, and a big room with a pool table, complete with a nice full-length bar. Finally, I found the master bedroom at the end of the hall, and it took my breath away.

The walls were painted in a soft blue that reminded me of the dimming horizon shortly after sunset. The crown molding was painted a warm creamy white. The dark wood of the massive king bed stood out against the wall—imposing and magnificently perfect. I couldn’t help myself as I reached out to touch it, gliding my fingers along the gentle curve of the wood. It was carved, probably by hand, but it wasn’t overdone. It was simple and that made it much more of a centerpiece to admire.

There were matching dark wood nightstands to either side of the bed. There was a loveseat against the wall that was draped with a soft fluffy gray blanket, along with a fair number of soft pillows too. The whole room was masterfully done. I couldn’t have done it better myself. There was an open door to the right side, and I wandered inside, finding a master closet that was as big as my own bedroom back home. There were a terrific number of expensive suits, more ties than I could possibly count, as well as a whole wall of feminine dresses and skirts. I strode over to them in wonder, absentmindedly looking at the size.

The first was my size. As was the second. And the third. I continued down the line. Every single one seemed to be made to my specifications and I couldn’t decide if I should be impressed or terrified or if this was just some weird coincidence.

Maybe he had a type. Maybe these dresses weren’t for me. My brain was trying every leap to make the impossibility of my current situation work in my head, but honestly nothing really made this make sense. With a sigh, I let go of the blue dress that had first caught my attention and continued, finding the attached master bathroom next.

The marble tiles beneath my feet were heated and covered in a brilliant gray veining that carried on through the rest of the room. There was a double vanity with enough space for a whole baseball team and the jetted tub was sunken into a beautifully tiled grotto. The shower was the masterpiece of the whole room though. It was set on a glassed-in balcony that overlooked the city, epically revealing for anyone that happened to look up from the ground to the penthouse suite. It was a rain shower and I found myself looking at it with a sense of yearning, then I remembered what he had said. Demanded… really.

Grayson had wanted me to shower.

I didn’t want to be obedient. I’d showered that morning. I took a sip of the wine still in my hand and glanced back around the room, snarling as I did so. Hesitantly, I pressed my thighs together and tried to ignore the rampant wetness between them. I definitely didn’t think about the fact that I was wetter than he last left me.

I left the bathroom. I wasn’t going to shower just because he told me to.

I wandered back into the bedroom and sat down on the loveseat, taking a moment to admire the way the ocean looked through the glass windows. I stared at it for a while until I heard someone clear his throat. I turned my head and started the tiniest bit when I saw Grayson leaning against the doorframe.

I took a sip of my wine.

“I see you haven’t showered yet, my pretty bride,” he said.

I just glared at him. There was nothing that could temper the annoyance, anger, and rising needy frustration between my thighs right now.

He strolled toward me, his brown eyes darkening with intention as he took each step. I stood my ground, but part of me began to grow nervous. I felt like a rabbit caught in a trap about to be pounced on by a prowling wolf.

“You will need to learn to obey your husband,” he scolded gently, and my stomach pitched forward with nervous arousal. He moved closer to me, and I did the first thing that came to mind when he reached out to touch me.

I threw my wine in his face.