Within a Captain's Hold by Lisa A. Olech Page A

clasped the locket at her throat. Giving it a vicious pull, he ripped it from her neck. The thin chain cut into her tender skin. Bright blood wept from the wound. He wiped the face of the locket across her neck, smearing it with her blood and then slipped the necklace into the pocket of his coat.
    Reaching out, he captured another smear of blood across his fingertips, rubbed it with his thumb, and tested the slip of it between his fingers. He lifted it to his nose and smelled its metallic tang. The smell brought a surge to his loins. He slid his gaze back to her.
    “Where is she?”
    The stupid chit lifted her stubborn chin and stared at him in defiance.
    “I asked you a question. Answer me, you insufferable woman.” He swung his arm in a flash. The back of his hand struck a stinging blow across her smug face.
    Her head snapped back and her eyelids fluttered. If he weren’t careful, she’d fall into unconsciousness again.
    He leaned over her and growled. “You will tell me where she is.”
    “I’ll never tell you.” She spit in his face.
    Wolfsan reared back in horror, wiping the spittle from his cheek. He lunged at her. His hands circled her neck, cutting off her air.
    She didn’t struggle against him as his fingers tightened. The cold bitch looked him straight in the eye. Her icy defiance unnerved him.
    Damn her to hell.
    He released her. Returning to the table, he then tossed his coat aside, loosened his cravat, and drank straight from the neck of the decanter before slamming it back down on the table.
    The blasted maid fought to regain her breath as he pulled a knife from a side drawer. He played with it. Passing it from hand to hand, turning it this way and that, causing the blade to catch the lantern light and make it dance across the room. He tested its razor edge. Now she would pay for her insolence.
    He wouldn’t be killing her quickly, however. Regardless of how much she provoked him. He’d be patient and control the urge to slit her throat until she told him where Annalise was hiding. After that, well, she’d come to regret his building anger.
    Until then, he would taunt her, stoke her fear, break her. He approached her and held the knife’s tip over her heart. With each breath, the point of the blade pricked her skin. Wolfsan watched in rapt fascination as the steel marked her. He gave a small gasp of excitement. His sex hardened. Grabbing the front of her gown, he sliced it cleanly between the bones of the bodice, baring her breasts. A dark trickle of blood slid between the generous mounds.
    A second slash slit her dress to the floor. She tried to kick at him, but he stood on her hems. Now he could easily lash each leg. When he finished, he stood and smiled. The tip of his tongue ran along his lower lip as she trembled before him. The paleness of her lips and the fright in her eyes aroused him more. Why wasn’t she squealing? It would be sublime if she screamed. Instead, the muscles in her jaw tightened. The fear in her eyes turned to fury. Did she dare believe she could win against him? He would enjoy destroying her.
    Her gown hung in heavy pieces. Legs splayed and her arms tied behind her, she was naked and exposed. Wolfsan stood before her. The sight of her spread wide made his mouth water. His breeches grew tighter with the thought of his fiery cock ripping into her tender pink flesh. Feeling her break beneath his powerful thrusts. Succumbing to his strength. Bending under his control. He forgot about the knife in his hand and stroked the aching ridge in his trousers.
    Again, he loomed over her. “Are you ready to tell me what I wish to know, or shall I begin to rid you of bits of your flesh? Perhaps I shall carve my monogram upon you. What say you, the whereabouts of your mistress or a fine scripted BW upon your thigh?”
    The bitch stared straight ahead, mute. Her eyes glazed over as if her mind slammed shut against him. Did she actually believe she could escape his exquisitely planned