The Assassin's Bride Ch. 03

It was a gloomy evening, following a tumultuous afternoon. Carina wandered along the hall, dressed in a very sheer, completely see-through pastel blue kaftan. Idly glancing though the windows she passed, each view contained the same, impressive expanse of tropical trees and ocean. A black, thundering sky gathered over the distant water, drawing closer with nightfall. Small gusts of breeze from the approaching storm caused the elegant material to softly float up her legs, then slowly resettle at her calves between gusts.

After being abruptly retrieved from the beach, it had taken Carina more than an hour to recover from the horrible, insulting shock of Michael's prediction that she might forgive and accept him. There was the hard truth, despite his unforgivable actions, that they were compatible personalities who once enjoyed a good friendship. From recent events, it was now established that she didn't recoil from him sexually, though she was unwilling.

Carina shook her head angrily, her long, black hair firmly tamed in a tidy, austere plait to suit her mood. Furious as she was with Michael, she also knew there was no point running away with nowhere to go. She wasn't stupid, and he knew it. She relied on him for her own survival. It wasn't as though she was being kept in a house, or a farm, or a location that shared common ground with civilisation.

There was little point attacking Michael and setting the place on fire. There was nothing to do but live comfortably and tolerate his persistent sexual advances until something changed. Meanwhile, the clock steadily ticked onwards, and the longer she failed to learn something useful about where they were, she edged closer to the inconceivable possibility of wanting to stay.

"Carina?"

Carina's heart leapt and she turned to face Michael. Quietly watching her, he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He was in a black robe, but Carina knew he wore nothing beneath it. His dark hair was handsomely tousled, his brown eyes unreadable.

"I was just looking around," she said defensively. Annoyed that she felt guilty, her chin lifted mutinously while Michael's eyes travelled over the feather-light dress, admiring her nakedness beneath. Her cheeks warmed as his gaze lingered on her firm, high breasts, silkily coated by the thin material.

"For a moment, I thought you were running away," he laughed, slowly approaching. Despite the joke, the mirth didn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, they glowed with an intensity Carina couldn't quite place. Was it desire, or anger?

Carina managed an awkward smile, running a hand up the back of her neck to the base of her plait. It was a flirtatious move, but also a nervous tick she'd had since childhood.

Michael extended his hand. "Come."

Bristling at his new habit of summoning her, Carina ignored his hand and tried to sidle past in an act of rebellious obedience. She gasped when he pulled her back so she spun into his arms.

"I've lived happily alone my whole life," he murmured against her temple, his fingers creeping up the nape of her neck. "Now, my bed feels empty without you."

Carina frowned into his smooth chest, her pretty face pinched with distaste. "I cannot return those feelings."

To her surprise, Michael suddenly laughed.

"That's such bullshit," he chuckled, trailing a finger down her cheek and over her bottom lip. "You were no chaste virgin. You fucked Eduardo at every opportunity. I almost got caught holding a cup to the wall."

"You're talking about sex," Carina glowered at him. Unsure whether he was honest or teasing, she was offended by the idea of him eavesdropping.

"I am," he agreed. "So you may as well enjoy yourself with me, until you find a way to escape. I have a small library if you want to do some research?"

"Fuck off," she muttered, annoyed he found her predicament quite funny.

"Come on, admit it," he goaded, a wicked smile curling his handsome mouth. "I turn you on, just a little."

"I see your ego hasn't changed, even if the rest of your personality turned to shit," she spitefully countered, and groaned angrily when he lifted her into his arms.

"I don't feel like fucking!" she grumbled, wriggling as he carried her down the hall. She felt the tell-tale sign of his arousal poking her lower back.

"That's an outright lie. You're always in the mood," he reminded her.

"Not for you."

"Oh, is this another challenge? I'll cut you a break," he reasoned cheerfully, and by his tone Carina highly doubted he would offer a palatable compromise.

"If you don't want to have sex, you can give me a blowjob instead," he offered, and swiftly dodged her angry hands slapping at his face.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm just joking," he chuckled, striding into her room and dropping her on the bed. "There's no way I'd pass you up tonight."

"I feel sick," Carina lied, pouting and crossing her arms.

"Ok, I'll be gentle." Michael smiled indulgently, hands on hips. The smile slowly drifted from his face, and Carina nervously watched him take in the sight of her, like a starving man readying for a feast.

"I need you tonight, Carina," he said softly, slowly crawling onto the bed.

Carina looked away and stared at the ceiling while he kissed down her neck, his hands sneaking between them to caress her breasts over the sleek material.

"Why tonight?" she asked, slightly curious. He spoke with more sincerity, than lust. There was clearly something she didn't know.

"Because," he said thickly, his face buried between her breasts. "I can't take any more time off work."

Carina stiffened, recalling that fateful night he told her there was no time to waste, before prompting killing her boyfriend.

"What does that mean?" she wondered, turning her face away from his eager mouth.

Planting slow, sensual kisses on her cheeks and forehead, Michael paused. "It means that now and then, I will have to leave you alone." His lips resumed their trail behind her ear, and Carina frowned as his hand stroked up her thigh, and gently edged the flowing material above her waist.

"Do not worry," he breathed, his erection persistently pressing against her pussy. "You will be safe. I will monitor you closely."

On the verge of a scathing reply, Carina's eyes widened as his thick cock slowly pushed inside her, and Michael rose on his forearms to look into her face. He opened his mouth to say something else, but changed his mind. After admiring her beautiful eyes, her parted mouth, he lowered his head to kiss her in time with his thrusts, kneading her breasts at the same time.

Carina was too distracted to be bothered about the sex. "How do you keep this place running?" she asked a little breathlessly, unable to keep still with him pumping into her.

"I'm afraid that is none of your business," he smiled against her lips.

'Aha,' Carina schemed, her mind rapidly whirring. The immaculate premises, the fresh food, he had to have help. But who? And how did they come and go?

"Oh!" Carina squealed, her plotting thoughts completely scattered as Michael's finger began to circle and press against her ass.

"Shh," he grinned into her startled eyes, a soft sheen of sweat making his skin shine like bronze. "Sorry, Carina. Eduardo told me things."

"Oh!" Carina's eyes flared with outrage, but she couldn't stop arching against him. "Oh, you fucker- you- oh-"

Carina dimly heard him speaking, his deep voice thrumming with triumphant excitement. Her body gave in to his technique and began to dissolve into a pleasurable climax. They were pressed together, naked. His skin was firm and warm, radiating an intoxicating heat against her soft, smooth body. She tried to think of other things, but her mind couldn't shake the powerful thrills coursing through her.

"You...Uh...uh...oh..." she panted desperately. Overcome with the sensation that she loved, her mouth dropped open and her eyelids felt heavy with passion. Michael's finger was inside her, rubbing against his own thick cock through the thin membrane.

"Uhhhhh...you...fucking...urrrhhhhh...uh...oh...oh..." Carina arched and squirmed beneath him, gasping for breath. Gripping Michael's neck to steady herself, she urgently thrust against him, fucking back as hard as she could while she came.

"Oh, Carina," Michael gasped, withdrawing his finger as her hips jerked upwards to meet him. "Oh, fuck, don't do that- I can't-"

Carina blew out a deep breath and her hands dropped to her sides. Relaxing, she looked up and noticed Michael's dark eyes staring down at her, slightly wide with panic.

"Fuck," he groaned and quickly withdrew. Immediately, streaks of cum warmed her belly. "Fuck," he repeated hoarsely, dropping his temple against hers with exhaustion, struggling to catch his breath. "That was close."

"Did you know that the 'pull out' method is not failsafe?" she snapped sarcastically, glaring up at him with surprising irritability after her climax.

"Better than nothing," was his light reply.

"I would prefer nothing," Carina said testily.

"You know that's not what I meant. And no, you wouldn't," he teased. "You're a total nympho. Remember when I helped you colour coordinate your sex toys?"

"Fuck off! Have you no decency?" Carina snarled, smacking his shoulder as hard as she could while he laughed.

"Get off me!" she shouted angrily, as her mind unwillingly recalled the exact occasion he referred to. "I was drunk!"

"You were absolutely wasted and horny. It was wonderful," Michael chuckled, easily holding her down. "One more drink, and you might have started live demonstrations."

"Enough! You promised not to bring up this shit!" Carina said fiercely, wanting to strangle him.

"I said I wouldn't tell you secrets about Eduardo that would hurt you. I never agreed to hold my tongue about the good times," he retorted. Fixing his eyes on her chest, heaving with indignation, he gleefully pushed the dress up to her neck and began to kiss her breasts.

"Ugh. Go away," Carina muttered petulantly, pushing at his shoulders as his wet mouth travelled across her chest. "I hope your work takes forever."

"Just a few days," he purred, his tongue circling a nipple before encasing it between his lips. After a while he raised to his knees and wiped them both clean of his cum.

"Tomorrow, I will show you where everything is," he said, lingering by the bed.

Carina perked up with interest and Michael chuckled at her alert change.

"Just where the food is, sweetheart. You won't have access to anything else."

Then he left her to her own thoughts.

*****************************

The next morning Carina opened her eyes to the sun-brightened room and wondered why she was excited. Then she remembered -- Michael was going to show her around!

A small pout formed as she acknowledged Michael was no fool, and would be careful not to tell her anything useful. Nonetheless, it was a development. Glancing at the living area behind, she realised it was immaculately tidied, and a new tray of food had been placed on the table.

Glancing down at the crumpled wisp of pale-blue kaftan, she grumpily tugged it over her head and watched the discarded item gently float to the ground.

Opting for a practical look, she chose beige short-shorts, and a pale yellow, button-up shirt. Carina inspected the sizeable cupboard properly for the first time. Crouching down, she found an array of shoes. There were slippers, sandals, sneakers and high heels. Frowning at the heels, Carina wondered why Michael would bother. Her eyes flared venomously at the prospect that he would want her to dress up for him, or wear them in bed.

"Dream on, fucker," she said acidly, eyeing the heels with contempt before examining the drawers above. Opening one, Carina sneered at the assortment of bras and underwear, a lot of it new and clearly purchased to cater to Michael's desires. Generally, as he knew, Carina hardly bothered with underwear unless she was exercising, or in a bikini. She recalled Michael's penchant for women in lingerie, and the memory now made her blood boil.

Carina's eyes widened as she recognised the black, rectangular makeup bag, neatly tucked in beside a cluster of lacy bras. Something stirred, memories surfaced, and she felt a little sad, remembering the evenings she applied it to perfection. The way Eduardo reacted when she finally emerged, looking shatteringly desirable. She knew the others admired her too, but were far less vocal lest Eduardo took offence. Michael used to smile serenely and politely compliment her, and Carina wondered if he was already thinking about raping her in the future. And for whatever reason, Michael thought to pack the make-up kit when he kidnapped her.

"What the fuck does he think this is?" she exclaimed incredulously, yanking the makeup bag out of the draw and standing up, staring at it accusingly as though it offended her. As if she would ever dress up for him.

"An option for you," Michael explained, and Carina shrieked with fright and almost dropped the bag. "I brought everything of yours that I could think of, to make you feel comfortable. But if you feel like dolling up for me, I won't object," he said, looking down at her startled face with a broadened smile.

"A lot of these shoes are new," she snarled ungraciously, her heart unpleasantly thumping from his unexpected presence.

"You like shoes," he shrugged. He looked quite presentable in black jeans and a crisp, white shirt. His hair was tidy and attractively styled.

"So this is just for my benefit? This...these..." Carina trailed off, gesturing at the open underwear draw.

Michael opened his mouth to reassure her, but his eyes were so clearly alight with mischief, he thought better of it.

"I live in hope, Carina," he said mildly, and his tone mocked her.

Raising the makeup bag to hurl it at his face, Carina remembered it was a bad time to start a fight.

"You're here to show me around?" she asked coldly. Tossing the makeup bag in the drawer, she slammed it closed with so much force that the large cupboard indignantly rattled.

"I was going to ask if you were ready for breakfast," he replied cheerfully, crossing his arms.

"I'm not hungry," Carina snapped, and it was true. She was too excited at the prospect of new information, and for him to be out of her hair.

"I thought we could eat on the balcony again," he mused, his brown eyes moving to the wide glass doors.

"It's raining," Carina said flatly, not wanting to be fucked on the table again.

"It's sheltered. And you adore the rain," he reminded her.

Carina watched him stonily, silently counting the seconds until her rage simmered down. Michael took the opportunity to look her over, enjoying the sight of the beige shorts hugging her toned thighs, before settling his gaze on her brooding face.

"I know your character in depth, Carina," he said softly, uncrossing his arms. "I'm sorry that it aggrieves you."

"No, you're not!" she said hotly, her hands curled into fists.

"Ok, I do find it a bit entertaining," he admitted. "It adds colour to our relationship."

"There is no relationship."

"Stop being a brat, or I'll fuck you twice before I leave."

Carina bared her teeth, but reined in her temper with an effort.

Michael lifted his large arms in a thoughtful stretch, and Carina glared at his solid torso before noticing he had dropped his hands to his hips and was watching her.

"Come on, then," he said simply, and walked out with Carina practically on his heels with impatience.

They walked along in silence, down one set of stairs to a large, metal door.

"Three zeros," Michael instructed. "Food should never be complicated," he smirked as the door clicked open.

Stepping inside, Carina shivered at the temperature drop. Opening her mouth to ask, Michael answered her anticipated question.

"It is impossible to lock yourself in here. If you find a way or, even less likely, someone locks you in-" he jerked his head toward a small monitor on the wall. "You can contact me."

Carina gazed around the refrigerated room. It was quite sizeable, with rows of separated cupboards, benches, fridges and freezers.

She paused by a slender counter with some surprise. It was laden with an arrangement of small plants, herbs, and flowers. The flowers made her eyebrows practically disappear into her hairline as she looked up at Michael with speechless mockery.

"Daisies, Michael?" she finally said. On the verge of laugher, her mouth slowly widened into a huge, taunting grin.

Michael grinned back, recognising the Carina who poked fun at him when they were friends. As though the same thought suddenly clicked in her mind, the mischievous smile vanished from her face and she looked away bitterly.

"Remember-" Michael began, but Carina cut him off, anticipating another one of his reminiscent musings.

"I remember nothing," she said cuttingly. Sneering down at a small basket of tomatoes, she considered driving her fist into them and smearing the pulped fruit down the front of his immaculate white shirt.

"Carina," he warned, reaching for her arm, but she pulled it from his grasp before his fingers could get a proper grip.

"Remember this? Remember that?" she mimicked him in an annoying singsong voice. "I remember nothing," she curtly repeated. "The Michael I remember, died on the dancefloor with Eduardo," she finished with brutal satisfaction, not seeing the deep frown shadowing Michael's handsome face. Carina didn't notice, she was too furious with herself for falling back to her old ways with Michael and forgetting that she hated him.

Her breath caught in her throat as Michael seized her shoulders and hurled her against him. He bent until their faces almost touched.

"I think," he whispered, tightening his grip when she uneasily tried to edge back. "That it is not in your best interests to be so dismissive of the old Michael. That person was, and is me. I may have faked a lot of things with the others, but not with you. So, Carina, I advise you to take more care, now that you are in my power. Because if you push hard enough, you will discover that the new Michael knows how to punish."

"Let go of me," Carina trembled, for the first time genuinely afraid of him. He abruptly released her, and she almost toppled over the stand of produce as she rapidly backed away.

"Are we clear on that point, Carina?" Michael asked softly, and the threat in his voice raised goose bumps from her arms up to the back of her neck.

She scowled and nodded, her eyes full of loathing.

"I wonder why your eyes look navy, when you are confused or angry," he pondered. "And purple, when you are afraid. Or aroused," he added with a derisive laugh. Carina didn't answer.

"I am running out of time with you," he checked his watch. "Now we are done here, let's get to bed."

"B-but...I'm not tired," Carina weakly argued. Well aware of what was in store, she dug her heels to the ground as his hand fastened around her wrist and dragged her along in his wake.

"I doubt you will fall asleep," he chuckled, pausing to ensure the large, steel door closed behind them. "Carina, if you keep dragging your feet, I will have to carry you."

"I don't want to!" she snapped petulantly, still trying to resist his pull on her arm. She felt like a little kid with a giant dog on a leash, being unwillingly walked along. "You-you're going to be late!"

"Late?" Michael echoed on a laugh. "For what? You don't even know where I'm going."

"I hope it's the other side of the world," she fumed, raising a leg to kick his shin.

But he merely laughed, and one firm tug brought her tripping forward into his arms. Then she was lifted and carried, squirming furiously, back to her room.

"I will probably move you to my bed, when I'm back," he said, wincing as her knee almost connected with his chin.