by K. L. Savage
He takes a breather, remembering where he is, and the terror in his eyes returns. His body shakes, quivers, and a tear drops in a thick dollop out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have planned it. It was a mistake.”
“When you got to your room and ripped her dress, what then?”
“Wha—what?” he stutters. “You know what happens next.”
I lift my arm, pull it back, and backhand him again. My ring leaves another stamp on the other cheek. “I want to know what the fuck happens next.”
“I was going to fuck her, okay? No condom. I was going to throw her in the hallway when I was done, come dripping down her legs. It makes me feel good when a woman can feel me after.”
My shoulders rise and fall fast, my lungs squeeze against my ribs and I forget to breathe. My vision blurs. What I’m feeling is beyond rage, beyond lividity, beyond fury. I dip into my pocket and grab the plastic bag of the same drug he gave her.
Her first time would have been ruined, tainted, and spoiled by this man’s selfishness. I empty the plastic bag in my palm and a few fall onto the floor, rolling in piss and dirt. I force I force the rest of them into his mouth like he was going to force himself onto her, then cover his lips with my hand. “Swallow, you pathetic pezzo di merda.”
If this doesn’t kill him, I will. I rip his clothes off until he is naked, and it isn’t long before he’s head can’t stay up on its own.
“Please,” he slurs, just like she was last night. “No.”
“No? No? You have the audacity to say no, when you would have ignored her when she said stop? You were going to dump her as trash and because of that, I’m going to treat you as such.” I cut the ropes off his hands and feet and he topples over, face first into his own filth.
I bend down and take the gun in hand, admire the width of the barrel, and glide it up the back of his leg. He attempts to crawl away from me, grabbing handfuls of dirt to drag him along the floor. I hear him gag and I shove the gun into the back of his neck. “If you vomit, I’ll make sure you clean up after yourself.”
His fingers wrap around the bars and uses them as leverage to lift himself up, but the drugs are starting to work. He can hardly move.
“You want to know what she was going to experience?”
“No! No, please,” he sobs for his life, screaming into the dungeon. “I’ll do anything. Please. I have money.”
“Money? Money!” I raise my voice. “Does it look like I need money? Especially from a rapist like you.”
He hangs his head and drops it onto the ground. He can barely move, barely breathe, and that’s exactly how I want him. I grip the ends of his shaggy hair and yank back, then press the gun between his cheeks. “I hope this kills you like your cruelty would have killed her.” I force the gun into his hole, and he screams at the top of his lungs as I ruin him for life.
If there is one thing I have learned from the Ruthless Kings, it’s that this life is an eye for an eye. And when you fuck with who we care about, we won’t only take an eye.
We will fucking take everything.
And I will fucking take from this man until he is nothing but bones I can pick my teeth with. Even then, the revenge won’t be enough.
Blood starts to drip down his thighs, the same that would have happened to her if I hadn’t caught him. I yank out the gun and toss it between the space in the bars, then grab the man by his neck, and throw him across the room. He falls limp, but I can see his chest moving, unfortunately.
I don’t care how fucked up this moment is.
I don’t care if it makes me look like a monster.
I don’t care if this stamps my ticket to get into hell.
Villains like this piece of shit, deserve to be tortured by villains like me.
I already know my soul is blackened, covered in soot from being burnt, and irredeemable. I made peace with that a long time ago.
I’m sitting in the middle of his California King mattress dressed in plum-colored silk pajamas that he got me. There is an M monogramed over the left breast, and if I were clueless I wouldn’t know what it means, but I’m not.
M stands for Moretti. It’s possessive and controlling for him to mark my pajamas with his name. I’ll never admit it out loud, but I like it. I’ve never had anyone who was interested in me before. I think he is… some of the things he tells me he is. But maybe he is just being nice.
I turn around and lean my arms on the windowsill, staring out to the city that I’ve always called my home. The lights are beautiful, and I become transfixed on the flashing lights. The Eiffel tower is down the street, but I’ve always wanted to see the real one. I won’t ever go to Paris. Living a life of travel isn’t in the cards for me.
I’m still okay with dreaming about it.
My eyes float around the sky and I grind my teeth together when I notice the sun has set and the stars have come out. There is a hint of dark oranges clinging to the sky, the sun gripping to the last bits of the day remaining.
And I’m still locked in this damn room.
I’m hungry, and where the hell are my friends? I thought I could see them. My phone is dead, and I can’t find a charger, so I can’t message them to see what is going on. The TV is droning on in the background but I don’t know what show is playing. I don’t care. I only have it on to fill the silence. I don’t watch TV. I read, and he doesn’t have any textbooks in here.
I hear the front door slam and I jump off the bed, flying across the room from the unexpected bounce. Whoa, that mattress really gives.
I’m in front of the door and ready to attack him for leaving me in this… comfortable, spacious room that is nicely decorated.
That’s beside the point. He can’t make me a prisoner here, even if the food is good and the drinks are better and he is wonderful to look at.
Still. Not the point.
I have my hands on my hips, staring at the bedroom door when it finally opens. I don’t give him time to react. I attack him. He smells like fresh soap, like he’s just showered; the scent of the ocean reminds my body how much I want him.
My hands slap his chest and I rear a palm back to slap him across the face, but he’s quicker than me. He grips my wrists and kicks the door shut with his foot, spins me around, and slams my back against it. He lifts my arms above my head, keeping my wrists locked in his hands, and his nose brushes against mine.
His eyes are wild, and a cold grin sweeps across his face. “You think you can attack me in my home?”
“I had to try. You think you can keep me locked up here.”
“I don’t think. I know.”
I struggle against him, kind of, sort of…
I’m pretending to fight him, and I hate myself for it. The sexual woman awakened inside me loves the firm grip he has around my wrists. I like how fragile I feel near him. Mateo could be the reason for my destruction and I’d gladly crumble to the ground.
It’s why I need to keep my defenses up.
“You belong here with me and you know it,” he says, his words ghosting over my lips, the air from his lungs casting a spell on me every time I inhale the magical breaths.
“I belong—”
“Have you ever had sex, Stellina?” The question takes me by surprise.
“That is none of your business,” I scoff, struggling against him again.
“Have you ever been kissed?” he asks, pressing his body against mine. Every hard ridge rubs against my most delicate places.
And I mean…
Every.
Hard.
Ridge.
“Stockholm Syndrome: occurs when hostages, for example, me, bond with their captors or abusers. It happens over a period of time, so if that is what you are trying to do….”
He nips at my chin, and my eyes flutter when I feel the scrape of his teeth. “You’ll only bond with me because you want to, not because of anything else. I’d never harm you, and after tonight, you’re more than welcome to leave.
”
Why does the sentence feel like it isn’t finished?
“And I do love it when you define words to me, Stellina—” he chuckles, “—Stockholm.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” I grit through my lips. “I don’t know why you want me here—”
“Have you ever been kissed?” he asks again, changing the damned subject.
“That is none of your—”
“You are my business,” he snarls. “You will not leave until you answer the question!”
“No!” I yell at him. “Is that what you want to hear? How pathetic it is that a grown woman has never been kissed? Get off me.” I pull my arms against his hands and fight the hold he has on me. “Let me go.”
I don’t want him to, but I’m embarrassed. This is the last thing I ever wanted to admit to anyone. I was content living my life alone without having to answer to anyone but myself, but then Mateo looked me in the eye, and I knew right then living my life alone was about to change.
“I will never let you go,” he whispers at the same time he eases the pressure around my wrists. His body is still against mine. The strong beat of his heart pummels against mine as his lips get closer to mine.
I flick my tongue out, trying to get out of his hold again. “Please,” I beg.
“Please, what?”
I don’t know.
His hand caresses my cheek, and my jaw submerges in his palm, claiming the width of face. “I’m going to kiss you, Stellina. I can’t wait any longer.”
I swallow and part my lips when his eyes drift my mouth. He reminds me of a man starved, dying to dive in and devour.
“I don’t… I can’t… I won’t be good at it,” I admit, hating that I know so much about other things but when it comes to this, I have no idea what to do.
“You’ll be a welcome heaven after so much pain, Stellina,” he says. “And I want to be the one to teach you.” He opens his mouth over mine, a hint of whiskey ridding his tongue, but he still doesn’t kiss me, just teases. “I want to claim all your firsts.”
I shake my head, hating to deny him, but knowing I have to. “I won’t be another one of the conquests you throw away, and I refuse to try to pick up the pieces you shatter. I know you will, and I want my heart unscathed.”
He yanks me from the door and flings me to the bed. His long, wide fingers unbutton the blazer of his jacket. I scoot to the front of the bed and press my back against the headboard. Mateo folds his jacket and lays it over the chair that is in the corner. Next, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest.
The sleeping siren inside me awakens when his muscles flex. He is an Adonis god and I know if I let him touch me, let him inside me, he’ll own my heart, walk away with it, and leave me broken when I’ve finally learned what love is.
He crawls up the bed, caging my body in with his arms. Naturally, my legs part to allow him against me. I know I should run. The door is finally open. This is my chance, but I’m paralyzed as this demon tries his best to possess me.
No matter how smart I think I am, I know I won’t be when it comes to him.
“You’re so lovely thinking your heart is unscathed, Stellina.” He presses his hand against my heart, right above the curve of my breast. “Everyone is scathed, everyone is scarred is someone way, everyone hurts. I am older and have more experience, but I will not throw you away.” The blunt edges of his nails tickle my inner arms as he explores my body. “I will not use you like that man tried to.”
My stomach rolls in disgust when I remember what happened last night, giving me the reason why I’m here.
“I took care of him,” he tells me, rubbing the scruff on his cheek against my mine. “You don’t have to worry about him again.”
My eyes round from the statement. I have a dangerous man just inches from me. I breathe faster the closer he gets, and his hand cups my jaw again as he brings his lips closer. “I’m going to kiss you now. Don’t move.”
Like I could if I wanted to.
I close my eyes, unable to watch as the space between us gets smaller and smaller.
“Don’t move,” he repeats, his lips a feather over mine. I lean forward naturally to close the distance and he hisses. “Don’t.” He tightens his grip around my neck, and I freeze. A hint of fear makes me wonder if he will choke me, but he doesn’t cut off my airway.
He’s simply controlling the moment.
And I love it. I love submitting to him. I love letting go of the control I maintain in my everyday life. I didn’t think it would feel so good, but it I’m already addicted and want more.
“Bellissima. Le tue labbra sono la mia desiderio,” he speaks to me in the seduction of his native language. “Your lips are my wish,” he translates, just before he steals my mouth with his.
I’m motionless. Afraid to move, to breathe, to turn my head wrong. He groans and slides his lips across mine, changing direction. I gasp from the unexpected warmth and softness, yet there is a firmness to his mouth too.
Seeping in his touch, I finally kiss him back and hope I’m doing it right. My tongue flicks out and he growls, sucking in my bottom lip and rocking his rock-solid cock against my clit.
“Oh!” I moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head from the pleasure.
He swallows the sound down his throat, then deepens the kiss, shoving his tongue down my throat. I wrap my arms around him and dig my nails into his back and wrap my legs around his waist. We get lost in one another. Our tongues tangle and all sense of logic flies out the window about protecting my heart. He feels so good. His skin is hot and his muscles tense as I scratch from his neck down.
I can’t stop touching him. I roam my hands across his chest, and he punches his hips forward, rubbing the tip of his cock over the bundle of nerves between my legs. A space that’s never been touched before. I whimper and he places his hands on either side of my head, keeping our lips locked, he drives his cock against my heat.
I’m soaked and aching, needing more than what he is giving me with every thrust. I grip the round globes of his ass and rip my mouth from his. I bite my bottom lip and squeeze his firm cheeks again. His cheeks are flushed under his olive skin, and his lips are swollen from our kiss.
“You have a nice butt,” I gasp between broken breaths. I know it isn’t the hottest complement. I’m sure he is used to hotter words, but I’m new at this, and he does have a nice butt.
So nice that I never want to let go.
Who knew that a tight bubbled butt would feel so good?
“You have nice everything,” he replies, gripping the buttons of my silk sleep shirt and ripping it apart. Buttons pop and fly, skittering along the floor, and my breasts are bared to him.
Instinctively, I cover myself by crossing my arms over my chest.
Mateo sits up and grabs each arm with his hands and places them on either side of me. “Don’t hide yourself from me. You’re gorgeous, Nora.”
“I don’t… I’m not ready to have sex with you.”
“No sex, Nora. Just adoration, just like I’ve wanted to do to from the moment I saw you.”
“Really?” I ask, relieved and disappointed at the same time. I want to have sex, I’m aching for it with him, but I’m scared. I’ve known him a day.
“Really. Are you okay with exploring? No sex, but pleasure.”
My cheeks heat when I think of all the things he is insinuating. Things I’ve never done before. “No sex?”
He leans down and presses a kiss against my neck, licks down and traces the edge of my collarbone. “I just want to show you what you deserve, Stellina.”
Mateo sits up. His cock is tenting his pants, no doubt it is large and thick. There’s a wet spot against the material, and the outline of the tip of his cock gives me an idea of how big he really is.
The ball is in my court. I have the feeling if I said no, he’d respect that decision.
But I don’t want to say no.
For the first time in my life I want to say yes
.
I just don’t know how to form the word.
I wait for her to answer. Anything she says is okay. I’d never rush her. I’m forty-three. She’s twenty-one. On the outside, we don’t make sense, but she makes sense to me, and isn’t that what matters? If it means I have to wait for her, I will. Good things are worth the wait, but the anticipation will make our relationship that much hotter.
With trembling hands, she reaches for my pants and fumbles with the zipper. I stop her before she can unzip me. “What are you doing, Stellina?”
“Saying yes,” she says. “I can’t promise that I’ll be good at it, but I can promise I want to try.”
I let go of her hand and let her do what she wants. “No sex, I swear it.”
“I believe you,” she whispers, lowering her eyes to my cock.
“Hey,” I state, wanting to get her attention. I tilt her chin up and have those ocean eyes meet mine. “Your pace. I’m more than happy just kissing you all night.” She blushes and bites that damn lip. “What did I say about this? Do you not know how to listen?” I tease, plucking her bottom lips from the tight grip of her teeth.
“What are you going to do about it?” The sexual husk of her voice wraps around me in lussuria. It seems I chose the correct name for my casino after all.
For the first time, she’s edging me on, flirting, and she’s damn good at it. Nora unclips my belt, slides it out of the pant loops, and tosses it on the floor. The belt buckle hits the floor with a clank. Her fingers are trembling and the motion of her chest stops. I don’t see it rising.
“Nora, breathe. You’re in control.”
“I’m in control?”
The panic has her voice cracking, and she looks away from me. “I don’t want to be in control. I like it when… you… I…”
“You want to give up control.” I come to realize, the threat of an orgasm tightening my sack.
She nods, and her eyes fill with tears. She crosses her arms over her chest again to hide herself and damn it, a tear escapes. This isn’t supposed happen. She isn’t supposed to get upset. “Talk to me. What’s wrong, Stellina? I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me.” I wipe the tear from her face, her cheeks flaming hot.