Grace by Laura Marie Henion Read Free Book Online Page B

his tongue and his brain. He lost all coolness, all his macho how-to-get-the-girl routine that usually came so natural to him. His instincts were always on target.
    Max was annoyed as hell. The woman took his breath away and made certain body parts stand at attention. She said something about him avoiding her and that he had her number. What the hell had she been talking about? He wasn't avoiding her.
    He only received one message from her. He shook his head in confusion as he entered his car. He didn't have time for this crap. He had a case to solve.
    He started the ignition and headed to the precinct, trying his hardest to get Grace Martin out of his mind. It didn't help matters one bit that remnants of her perfume lingered on his dress shirt.
    Instantly, the thoughts of her voluptuous body wedged up against his chest filled his mind. He couldn't help but smile. She was the best-looking homicide detective he ever laid eyes on.
    [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 4
    His palm was against the back of Celina's neck while he directed her down the hallway. She felt him scanning her backside.
    The decision was made to obey her captor and do as he wished. He let her shower, gave her a clean dress and a meal, although she couldn't help but wonder if it were poisoned or perhaps her last, but she was starving.
    Her hands were red and swollen from the cool temperatures, and she rubbed them together in an effort to warm them.
    The rooms and hallways were stone, and each footstep echoed as they made their way toward another room.
    The corridor was short and narrow. The ground looked like some kind of dirt-covered paving stones, though she felt like she was in an old basement and the stone walls and flooring were faux.
    She had no idea where she was, but as they walked, she could have sworn she heard crying. Celina was shocked to find out she wasn't his only prisoner. She looked in the direction the sound came from.
    "Keep moving and don't make a sound,” he told her and she did as he said.
    When they reached the end of the corridor, there was another door with a twelve-foot by twelve-foot square area containing metal bars. This was what he meant by better arrangements?
    The door opened wider.
    Her captor pushed her inside the sheet-rocked room. Numerous torture devices covered the walls and the floor.
    Instantly, she knew she was in trouble.
    The long hot shower, special fig oil fragrance body wash and clean clothes were not for her comfort. Instead, they were meant to purify her, make her presentable and to conform to his high standards and demands in preparation for the acts he was about to perform.
    How stupid she was to believe otherwise.
    Her captor smiled through his black leather mask, and his eyes sparkled. He too smelled of the expensive, fragrant oil. He closed the door behind him, then reached to the sidewall.
    His choice was made as he carefully removed the object and gripped it tightly.
    "Please don't hurt me. Please ... you promised,” she pleaded.
    He ignored those pleas as he swung the sharp leather whip to either side of her.
    The sharp sound sent her whole body into a panicked state. She shook, crying, pleading for help.
    He laughed while he walked in a circle around her, just barely missing her skin with each strike of the sharp black whip.
    Celina curled herself into the fetal position on the floor, covering her head with her arms.
    "I've had a long, stressful day at the office and I need to relieve some tension."
    The whip snapped, this time piercing the skin on Celina's leg. She screamed out in pain.
* * * *
    He continued to toy with her, fulfilling the fantasy he thought about most of the day at work.
    He craved that control, that immense feeling of triumph and power over everyone and everything around him. His workday had lacked that immensely. Although he had no intention of causing much injury to the slave before him, he was enormously satisfied in just knowing the control he had. The bonus of intense fear in