Security Binds Her (Thalia Book 1) (The Thalia Series) Read online

  Security Binds Her

  By Jennifer Bene

  Text copyright © 2015 Jennifer Bene

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by Quarter Hazel Designs.

  Paperback cover design by James,www.goonwrite.com

  ISBN-13: 978-1511924641

  ISBN-10: 1511924640

  “Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash.”

  - Louis Aragon

  This is a dark book. It is the first of a trilogy that tackles the darkness and the light, suffering and recovery. I’ve always had the darkness in my head, but I’ve found it has always helped me to see the light more clearly. It defines it. With that in mind, I am so grateful to everyone who supported Thalia’s story when it first appeared on Lit. Who accepted the darkness, and fell in love with the twists and turns along with me. This story brought me my fantastic editor, introduced me to an amazing group of authors, and introduced me to the loveliest group of readers on the internet!

  It is an absolute truth that without all of you, Thalia’s story would have never been told.

  The darkness, or the light.

  Prologue

  Thalia stretched as she woke and buried her face into the pillow trying to grab just a few more minutes of sleep before the day started.

  Wait.

  She sat bolt upright. This was not her bed. It didn’t smell like her bed, it was more subtle, more masculine. She was in the center of a king-size four poster, and fear slammed into her chest, despite the pleasant surroundings. It was a nice room, like a fancy hotel. Nicer than any place she’d ever stayed before.

  But she didn’t want to be here at all.

  Thalia quickly rolled off the bed and lunged for the curtains on the wall, but they were an illusion. There was no window.

  The room would have been pitch black except for a small night-light plugged into the wall that revealed two doors. Thalia ran over and yanked open the first one, her body arguing against the movement as she was achingly reminded of the night before.

  Thalia bit down on the urge to cry. She didn’t want to remember asking, begging him to let her come, or the humiliation of touching herself in front of him.

  Her eyes focused and she was staring into a beautiful bathroom, it was as big as her bedroom at home. A large garden tub, a shower with six heads, a long vanity, and a small, enclosed toilet. How could a place so beautiful belong to someone so evil? After using the toilet she stepped back into the main part of the room and caught herself in the mirror.

  Her light brown hair was limp and hanging past her shoulders without much of the curl she had added to it the morning before. Her hazel eyes were bloodshot and empty, and they told the same story her body did. Pain. Shame. Purple bruises ringed her wrists darkly as if they were bracelets, faint lines could be seen on the pale skin of her breasts and ass from the crop and his belt. She covered her mouth as she started to cry again.

  How could any of this be real?

  Thalia shut the light off to end the sight. She couldn’t bear to look at the evidence of the night before. Memories slammed into her. Handcuffed in the stairwell, his hands on her, him re-cuffing her to the car and punishing her. The torment in the trunk, touching herself for him. The spanking.

  And coming for him.

  She didn’t need the mirror to know she had flushed bright red. He had made her come, and she had, like an idiot, asked for it.

  She hated herself. She was ashamed. The loud sob surprised her when it burst out of her mouth and she wiped the tears on her cheeks as she approached the only other door.

  Reaching for the handle she mumbled, pleading with the world, the powers that be, or any god that felt like listening, “Please open….”

  Of course, it didn’t.

  Despite the obvious futility Thalia still grabbed the handle with both hands and tried again and again to get it to turn. Turning back to the room the panic ramped up in her chest. She was trapped. There was no way out. The air seemed thin, it was hard to get a full breath into her lungs, and she could hear it whistling in her chest.

  Flipping back to the door she slammed her fists on it, “HELP! Someone please help me! I’m trapped! Let me out! Let me OUT! Someone open the door!” She kicked it repeatedly, realizing somewhere in her mind that he had taken off her heels. He had to be out there. Somewhere in the house. “Open the fucking door you sick asshole!”

  Thalia screamed loudly, letting out the frustration and rage and fear and guilt in a long wail that strained her voice. Tears were flooding down her cheeks, all the panic and shame combining until she felt like she was coming apart at the seams.

  A loud bang on the door surprised her, and she yelped. With her hands still resting on its surface, she felt the vibration in the wood from the force of the strike.

  Thalia was shaking as she waited for something else to happen, but she heard the low murmur of a voice outside. Stepping forward cautiously she pressed her ear to the door, but it was hard to hear.

  “- at least a few weeks -”

  “- I’m not ready to share yet.”

  “- they’re already live and -”

  He seemed to move farther away for a moment and it was difficult to discern any specific words. Her pulse was pounding so hard in her ears she was shaking from the force of it. This was what fear felt like. A horror movie couldn’t match this. This is what it was like when it was real.

  The strong snap of a lock being disengaged warned her to step back a second before the door opened. Thalia became painfully aware of her nakedness as his blue-gray eyes danced across her skin. His dark hair was perfect, and he wore a gray shirt and black pants that hung low on his hips. They reminded her of the military. Numerous pockets, black hardware. He seemed amused, the edge of his mouth lifting before he spoke.

  “Good morning, Thalia.” His voice was warm with humor. A morning person. How fucked up.

  “Let me go.” Thalia demanded. Aiming for strength, she wouldn’t cower from him. She wasn’t just going to placate him like she had the night before. She was going to be brave.

  His eyebrow arched neatly as he stepped into the room, his size and his presence made her want to step back, but she didn’t. He stopped just in front of her, almost close enough for his shirt to brush against her chest. “No. And did you already forget the lessons I gave you last night little whore?”

  “I am not a whore!” Thalia screamed and slapped him. The crack of her palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the room.

  She immediately regretted it.

  Chapter One

  The Night Before

  It was after six, and Thalia was working late. Again. The plain gray of her cubicle walls were about as depressing as the stack of documents yet to be entered, but what had she expected when she took a data entry job? College dropouts didn’t get high paying jobs in nice offices. They got temp work. Short-term assignments that meant you were lucky to spend six months in the same of
fice. Which meant being left behind when all the permanent employees grabbed lunch, or gossiped in the break room, or did anything as a group.

  She was good at it though. She always received high praise at the end of a contract, and several times they had kept her resume in case there was an opening. No one had actually called yet, but they kept her resume. She typed at almost a hundred words per minute, and she would always knock out the work quickly. Well, she could if her current boss wasn’t always ‘dropping by’ at the end of his day to lean over her cube and talk to her. If he didn’t do that, maybe she’d actually leave on time. Even wearing a button down with no cleavage, a knee-length skirt, and minimal makeup – he still bothered her every single day.

  He’d targeted her the day she’d started a few months before, and even moved her desk to be right near his office. He’d asked her out to lunch twice, and she’d refused. She may not have friends in this office, but she definitely didn’t need enemies because the boss was paying her special attention. His retaliation seemed to be little last minute emergencies like the ones he’d laid on her desk today.

  As if data entry was ever that urgent.

  “Asshole.” She hissed under her breath as she flipped over the next file folder he’d left her with when he’d stepped into her cube, squeezed her shoulders, and left to go home. Of course, if she didn’t get the information entered in their system then she’d be in his office in the morning, getting eye fucked while he asked her questions like ‘what kept you from accomplishing your tasks?’ or ‘maybe a less stressful position would help you?’

  Corporate asshole speak for ‘I can cancel your contract in a second if you even think about complaining.’

  Thalia groaned as she started typing again, it wasn’t worth it to go home now and deal with him. For the hundredth time that month, she thought about how she needed to just sit down that weekend and start applying for jobs. Real jobs. Permanent jobs. Her Netflix marathon of Breaking Bad could wait one weekend.

  It was two hours later when she finally stood up from her desk, smoothed out the dark gray skirt and slipped her heels back on. The windows outside were pitch black and she knew it would be well after nine by the time she got home. Only enough time to water her plants, take a quick bath and collapse into bed.

  No gym tonight.

  She muttered about her boss as she shut down her computer and grabbed her purse to leave. Out in the hall she pressed the elevator button, but it didn’t even light up. She pressed it again and groaned when nothing happened. It looked like she’d get a work out anyway. Four flights of stairs in heels.

  “What a day...” Thalia muttered and pushed open the door to the concrete stairwell, her heels ringing out loudly on the metal steps and echoing off the walls as she started down. She stopped when she thought she heard another door open. The building should have been empty this late at night. She waited, but she didn’t hear footsteps and she shook her head. Paranoid and tired, great combination.

  Opening her purse she started to dig through it as she rounded the last turn to exit to the parking garage. As soon as her heels hit the concrete floor someone grabbed her from behind and shoved her forward into the wall. Her head cracked against the concrete and for a moment she was too stunned to do more than try and keep her balance. Then the hand tightened in her hair, gripping it at the base of her skull and pressing her forward against the wall.

  She screamed and heard her voice echo up the stairwell as she tried to push back, but the man pressed himself against her, pinning her to the wall with his broad body. His erection jutted into her backside, and it made her stomach flutter with fear, a whimper rising out of her as she realized she wasn’t able to move back at all.

  A soft chuckling came from him, his breath moving against her ear, “You can go ahead and scream. No one else is here. All the good boys and girls have gone home already.”

  “Please, please just let me go…” she begged, still trying to shift against him, to twist enough to get to the door so she could run. He pressed his hips against her, and she stilled.

  “I don’t think so.” He wrenched her head back and kicked her feet farther apart until her skirt started to slide up her thighs.

  “I haven’t even seen your face, you can just let me go. I won’t call the police.” Thalia winced as he pressed her harder against the wall, wrenching one of her arms up behind her back to keep her there until she yelped.

  “I know you’re not going to call anyone.” He shoved her purse to the floor and lifted her other arm above her head, the ratcheting sound of a handcuff clamping around her wrist was accompanied by the painful pinch as it was tightened too far. She renewed her fighting, kicking back at him until he yanked her arm up higher on her back and she cried out. He seemed to be unbothered by her struggle where she was already breathing hard in panic. This couldn’t be happening.

  This. Could. Not. Be. Happening.

  The arm he had behind her back was suddenly pulled up to join her other and she looked up to see his hands loop the cuffs over a pipe above her and then he secured the other cuff around her left wrist. That was when she started crying. Murmuring pleas as his hands slid down her curves. “Stop! Please don’t -”

  He clenched a fist in her hair and bent her head back until she saw him. It was the night security guard. She knew from the last few times he’d walked her to her car after working late that he was ex-military, unmarried, and liked movies. He’d always been so nice to her. He’d always been friendly. He was smiling at her like everything was normal and then he kissed her hard. She struggled and bit his lip, and he pulled back, a red swipe of blood across his lower lip. She could taste the copper in her mouth as a sick feeling filled her stomach.

  He laughed as he wiped his mouth on his arm, “You’re going to regret that. Trust me, you’re going to do whatever I tell you to.”

  Thalia was on her toes already as she tried to relieve the pain in her wrists, but she jumped when his hand came up her skirt and swiped at her panties. She shuddered when she realized they were damp, not sure when that had even happened. She tried to bring her knees back together, and he chuckled in her ear – his feet were in between hers, holding her legs open. “Why are you doing this? Why?!” She half-screamed it at him.

  “Because, I chose you.” The guard’s voice hummed against her shoulder, and her anger surged forward again. Lifting her heel she tried to bring it down on his foot, but all she could make contact with was a boot, and he was totally unfazed.

  His hand instantly tightened in her hair, “Be still. If you try to kick me again I’m going to take the heels, and I’m not sure you could reach the floor without them. So, unless you want to hang by your wrists, behave.” His words made her shiver, and she felt a whine rise up in her chest. He nudged her heels a little wider and the strain on her wrists grew worse. The guard started to rub her clit through the thin fabric and her hips bucked involuntarily. She groaned and gritted her teeth, doing her best to use her fear to push back the inklings of sensation he was pulling from her.

  “That’s right. I knew you were a slut.” His mouth trailed down her neck under her hair. His other hand squeezed her breast through the shirt as his fingers continued to torment her. She shook her head. She wasn’t enjoying this. She wasn’t. It was just some terrible betrayal of her body causing the heat to blossom in her lower belly as his fingers slid underneath her panties. When he pressed on her clit, moving his fingers in a tormenting circle, she moaned and promptly bit her tongue to cut it off.

  “No.” The word came out as more of a whine. He ignored her and jerked hard on her shirt until several of the buttons snapped, revealing the light tan lace of her bra. The guard flipped the cups in so they held her breasts up for his touch. She screamed again, begging him to stop, but he answered by thrusting a finger inside her. Her hips tilted forward, trying to ease the angle and she shook her head, tears streaking her cheeks as she tried to keep her body under control, but he was playing her body against her. Like
he knew it.

  Knew better than she did.

  “You can keep screaming, but it’s only going to make me fuck you harder.” He growled the words in her ear as he thrust a second finger inside her, pinching one nipple in his fingers until her back arched. She was getting wet, and she could feel herself crying as that realization settled over her. She didn’t want this, she couldn’t want this.

  His thumb pressed against her clit and she tried to stifle a moan, but her hips bucked against his hand, shifting so his fingers thrust deeper inside her. She fought against the urge to push forward against the pleasant sensation, but realized she was subtly doing it anyway, her breaths getting short as pleasure tried to short circuit the fear inside her. Then he suddenly pulled his hand away.

  “Whoa now, Thalia, you need to learn some control! Now clean up your mess.” He held his fingers in front of her mouth and she shook her head, keeping her mouth tightly closed. He might be able to make her body respond, but he couldn’t make her participate. She felt his hips move back from hers, and he bunched her skirt around her waist. Then she heard his belt coming off.