"So tell me more about the girl." Rita's voice interrupted the memory.
"I mean there's not much to say. She only looked to be a couple months old. It was taken at Christmas, so maybe she's about six months now? Hard to tell."
Rita rolled her eyes. "Not the child, dingus. The wife."
"Oh," I said, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I don't know much about her either."
Rita sighed and stared off into space. "I wish I'd paid more attention when your brother brought her here."
"Me too," I whispered. I didn't want to be reminded of it or anything else involving the woman. She was my sister-in-law, but I could only imagine what she thought of me. The night Kevin brought her here I'd been less than kind. How the hell was I to know she'd be family?
"Master?"
Isabella's voice came from behind. I twisted my head to give her my full attention, grateful for the interruption.
"Have you checked on Laila lately?"
"No, why?" I asked, setting the dough back in the bowl. Truth be told, I'd been avoiding Laila that day. Last night our kiss had only left me craving more, and I refused to spend every moment of my day with a bad case of blue balls.
Isabella shrugged. "I thought I might've heard screaming coming from your room."
Screaming? I hadn't heard anything, but then again it was a big estate. Laila didn't strike me as much of a screamer, but I supposed the isolation may have gotten to her.
"All right. Thanks."
I tugged the sleeves of my shirt back down and picked up my suit jacket. Rita gave me a disapproving look as I left the kitchen, but I ignored it as always. Twenty-five years working with this organization and she still managed to hold disdain for it.
My pace quickened as I marched to my room. I don't know why I was anxious. Something just felt… wrong. And although Laila merely was a means to an end, I feared something had happened to her. Maybe Dravin's guard had returned and harassed her? Or maybe even Dravin himself. He and I weren't exactly on the same page about what to do with our prisoner.
All my thoughts halted as I opened the door to the empty room. My stomach dropped and mouth parted. Laila wasn't there.
"Dravin!" I yelled as I hurried down the stairs. I had instantly thought of the basement, and it took me no time to reach the door. By then, guards seemed to be scrambling toward the back of the house, and I released the door handle to follow.
"What the fuck is going on?" I asked as I made it to the back of the house where several guards along with Dravin stood in a circle.
I got the answer to my question in the next few steps. Laila lay in a heap on the ground with a letter opener beside her. Her body shook violently until the Taser was withdrawn. My eyes locked on the guard who held the Taser, and the need for violence surged through me.
I gripped his collar but was promptly yanked back by Dravin's other henchmen. "Get the fuck off me!" I yelled and thrashed against their hold. They didn't let up and neither did I. That was, until the shiny piece of metal in Dravin's hand caught my attention.
He pointed the gun at Laila before turning his gaze to me. "Are we on the same team or not, Jake?"
My eyes flicked between him and Laila. She lay on the ground with a grimace on her face that suggested both pain and terror. An urge to protect her overcame me, but I forced myself to relax. The guards' hold on me relaxed as well, and I shook them off. If I wanted to gain control of the situation, I couldn't get hysterical. And I did want to gain control. I wasn't ready for Laila's life to end.
"What happened?" I asked in the most level tone I could muster.
"She tried to run. An action punishable by death, wouldn't you agree?"
It felt like a test. One that I so desperately wanted to fail by screaming no and flinging myself toward Laila. Why did I even care so much? Did I even need her anymore? Did it matter? I should've told him to pull the trigger. It was one less problem to worry about. Somehow, I'd allowed my damn emotions to mix into my decision making, and they had my logical side beat.
"Yes," I said, eliciting a cry from the heap on the ground. "But I'm not done yet. I still need her. As soon as I confirm the mole, I'll put the bullet in her myself."
Dravin's cruel smile spread across his features. "So what, Jake? You're going to take her back to your room? Play house a little more?"
I itched to reach for my own gun and end the man right there. It was almost over, and his life was so close to not mattering, even to my father. As I glanced around it began to register with me the real reason Dravin had hired all his own guards. I was outnumbered… by a lot.
"What does it matter to you?"
"What does it matter? The bitch got loose in your possession. It's a nuisance to me and a nuisance to my men. That's why it matters."
I peered down at Laila. She eyed me imploringly, and I wanted to simultaneously reassure and kick her. How she even got loose was a mystery to me, but I really thought she understood the hopeless endeavor it was.
"She won't try to run again." My gaze returned to Dravin. "You have my word."
He tucked the gun back into his waistband, and I'm not sure who sighed in relief harder, me or Laila.
"Take the girl back to Mr. Cryson's room," he ordered a couple of the guards.
I turned to leave. My anger was so quick to bursting, I needed not to be around anyone.
"Jake?" Dravin called. I glanced back toward him. "If she does get loose again, she won't be the only one with a bullet in her head. You gave me your word, remember?"
My fingers ached once again to reach for my gun, but they only twitched. I nodded before heading back inside. I needed to cool off before confronting Laila, but no amount of time could change the fact that she was in deep shit.
Laila
Isabella had set me up. I'd been standing right outside the kitchen listening to Jake's conversation with the housemaid when Isabella strolled right on by me, smirking as she did. I'd ducked into a bathroom off the hallway when Jake came barreling through to get to his room.
At first I thought maybe she only did that to get him out of the kitchen, but no. She'd wanted him to know I was loose. She lied to me about him not being on the property, and she wanted me to chance it only to get caught. Did she really want them to kill me? She must've known that would be their plan. I wanted to believe the woman had good reasons, but the only thing I could think of was that she'd want me dead to ensure I said nothing about Maddix.
Whatever the reasoning, her plan had worked. I'd panicked and made a break for the back door as soon as Jake was down the hallway. The housemaid's jaw had dropped when I ran past her, but she didn't yell for anyone. What got me was the guard patrolling right outside the back door. I never even made it off the patio.
The door opened and my muscles pooled taught against the binds as I braced for whoever was on the other side. I hoped it was Jake. He seemed to be the only person in this house who didn't want me immediately dead.
I'll put the bullet in her myself.
Jake's words replayed in my mind and sent a chill rushing through me. My veins felt as if they'd iced over as my future murderer stepped into the room. Why did I prefer this man, again?
"Jake," I whispered as he crept toward me with calculated steps. His demeanor was deadly, like a viper ready to snap.
A cruel laugh parted his lips. "Oh, Laila. What have you done?"
"I'm sorry," I whispered, shaking as he grasped my hair and pulled me against him. His face was inches from mine and he truly did look like he wanted to bite. He'd never been as terrifying to me as he was in that moment.
"Are you?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows. The question seemed rhetorical, but I chose to answer anyway.
"Yes. Yes, I'm so sorry." I leaned into him in a desperate attempt at winning over his merciful side. "I just… I had to try."
A smile stretched across his face, but not the charming one I associated him with. There was nothing but cruelty in his intentions.
"Turn
around."
My eyes widened at the demand, and my instincts immediately screamed to disobey. I wasn't cuffed to the headboard this time. The men had secured my wrists behind my back with duct tape as well as my ankles. I had no chance of running, but the adrenaline pumping through my system wouldn't accept it.
"Well?" he asked, motioning with his hand. "Am I going to have to force you?"
"Jake, I… Please." I couldn't find the words, but I hoped he understood what I tried to convey. Please don't hurt me. Please let me go. Please give me my life back.
The answer was no.
He yanked me by my hair flat against the bed and rolled me onto my stomach. I squirmed and kicked, but it did absolutely nothing. I imagined I looked like a worm about to be put on a hook with the way my body moved.
A whole new panic ensued as the sweats slid past my bottom. They were followed by my panties, leaving bare skin exposed.
I clenched my thighs as best as I could, all the while screaming at the top of my lungs. I don't know why rape hadn't occurred to me before. Not by Jake. Somehow, I hadn't pictured him committing this act of violence, even with everything I knew of him and his brother.
The sweats and panties sat in a bundle at my ankles, but Jake didn't move to yank my shirt as I expected. Instead, the jingle of his belt buckle came from behind me.
"Jake, please. Please don't do this. You don't have to do this." I blubbered and mumbled my incoherent pleas to the point it was humiliating. He seemed unaffected by all of it.
My face sunk into the mattress and my thighs remained clenched. I couldn't bring myself to peer behind me. I didn't want to see him or anything that was about to take place. Maybe I could block most of it out if I just…
What the fuck?!
Searing pain cut across my backside. It felt like needle-pricks along a strip of skin and it took two more lashings seconds later to realize it was the belt.
Three more lashings came before I found myself able to breathe again. "Jake, please stop," I begged between huffs.
To my amazement, he did stop. The material of his suit brushed against me as he leaned forward to speak into my ear. "What did you think would happen, Laila? That you could say sorry and it would all go away? Are you fucking kidding me?"
He went to lift off me but froze as I spoke next. "I was scared," I whispered. It was the first time I admitted it out loud. So much of me concentrated on being strong and toughing through the torture and the mind games, and I held onto it. But I was still human, still a woman who feared for her life.
A part of me broke along with the sob that wracked my chest. I wanted to go home. I wanted to cry. I wanted my fucking parents.
"I know you were," Jake said. I could feel the tension in his body soften behind me as if he melted. He swept the sweat-slicked hair from my forehead and his lips pressed to my ear. "You still have to face the consequences, though. I can't risk you running again."
"I won't," I said a microsecond after he’d finished. I hadn't meant it of course. It was either run and be killed, or wait and be killed. Their end game was still the same, and I couldn't possibly allow myself to go down without a fight. I would've said anything to Jake right then to get him to soften.
"Just a little more," he whispered, lifting off the bed. He raised my hips so that I was on my knees and pressed my face into the mattress when I tried to look behind me. His fingers ran over the patches of raised skin on my ass, and to my amazement, it didn't repulse me. I wanted that gentle caress and found myself leaning into it.
One of his hands traveled down until it rested between my thighs. He wedged his way farther and forced my trembling legs to part.
"Jake," I whispered, fighting the urge to close my legs. I don't know why I didn't fight it. I guess for survival, but in reality I think I may have just wanted to please him. Jesus, maybe I was developing Stockholm Syndrome.
"Shh," he cooed, sending hot breath rushing to my now exposed opening. He must've gotten to his knees and was right there. My face reddened and nervousness overtook the fear.
He continued to caress my thighs a few moments longer before he stood. "Just a few more times," he said as the belt buckle jingled in his hand.
Leather slapped against me, but not with the force it had before. Every couple of strokes was met with Jake's hands massaging exactly where he'd hit. It eased the burn, and somehow even morphed the pain into something else… something resembling desire. It was a foreign sensation, but I found myself enjoying even the rough parts of the act. My back arched with each strike as I leaned into them. Pressure built inside my core and wound tighter each time Jake's hands touched skin.
Eventually, the belt dropped to the floor, and Jake rolled me onto my back. He gripped my shirt and yanked me up until I was pressed into him. Hot, ravenous lips rammed against mine, and I kissed him back just as I had the night before. I was entranced. Carnal need pulsed through me and no logical thought held any credence.
The kiss was only broken by a moan that came from deep within my throat as Jake's fingers plunged into me. With the ease at which his rough fingers glided, I knew I had to be soaked.
Jake pulled back an inch and stared hungrily into my eyes as he added another finger and pumped without any care at being gentle. I didn't want gentle. With every boyfriend I'd ever had, I would've said differently. I wanted the candles and the low lighting, the soft music and the back massages. But not then. My body demanded to be ravaged and abused, and Jake seemed determined to give it to me.
"You're so fucking sexy, Laila," Jake breathed before removing his fingers and sliding off the bed to his knees.
In the next moment, his hot mouth was on me, lapping at my folds like a hungry animal. I moaned and writhed against him. My legs ached to wrap around and squeeze, but the tape prevented it. I whined from the restriction, but the discomfort vanished as his lips found my clit and sucked. My mouth and eyes both burst open and a shudder wracked my body.
"Oh, fuck!" I screamed just as I was about to explode. I curled my toes and arched my back in anticipation, but it never came. Jake pulled back at the last second, his lips gleaming with my juices.
I wanted to scream at him, but I seemed to have lost my voice. My lips parted, but no words came out.
Jake stood and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "Next time don't run," he said as his chest expanded as if he'd just ran a mile. He stalked almost angrily from the room.
I spent the next several minutes whining and writhing on the bed, but it was no use. He'd left me there to suffer with need. All I could do was lean my head against the mattress and wait for it to pass.
Jake
"Fuck," I groaned as I slammed my arm on the tiles. I pumped my hips into my grip. Each thrust came more forceful than the last as I neared climax. It was weak. Spurts of cum coated the walls of the shower, but I was still left hard as a rock and unsatisfied.
I bathed my face under the stream of the shower and slicked my hair back. Each of my movements seemed too forceful, too angry.
I fucking wanted her. I’d wanted her since the night I’d met her at that bar, and I didn't give a shit who she was anymore. Her warm cunt wrapped around me was the only thing that mattered right then, and I wished like hell it'd go away. Wasn't I supposed to want her dead? To despise her as the enemy she was? So why the fuck was I risking my life and masturbating like some Goddamn teenager?
What's even worse is I’d had her in my bed. She poured like a waterfall and begged me with her gyrating hips to fuck her. And I'd wanted to. Believe me, I'd wanted to. But then she would've won that round, and I refused to allow that to happen. Not after I'd stupidly given Dravin my word and a reason for him to kill me.
I slammed my hand into the tiled wall once more in frustration. My grip on my cock strengthened and slid back and forth. The taste of Laila's pussy still lingered in my mouth, and it watered for more. I went back to the memory of me licking her and the moans that came from those plump lips. She'd writhed beneath me
in both want and torment. The speed of my hand on my dick increased. "Yes," I breathed picturing the marks I'd left on her backside.
Every intention I'd had stepping into that room involved punishing Laila. Even as I'd removed her panties and yanked my belt from its loops. I wanted to inflict pain and was drunk on my need for violence. Then I'd let my dick do the thinking.
I lifted my palm and spit to slicken my hold. It was a poor recreation of Laila's pussy but it'd have to do. For how much longer, I couldn't be sure.
My breaths quickened and calves wound tight. I lifted onto my toes and braced against the wall as the pressure in my balls released and more fiery cum coated the wall.
I rested my forehead on my arm and stared down as the white seed made its way to the bottom of the tub and swirled down the drain with the water.
"Damn it, Laila," I mumbled before finally pulling back and rolling my neck underneath the stream. The water ceased as I shut off the tap and wiped my body with a towel. Wrapping it around my waist, I sauntered into the guest bedroom. My feet halted as I took in the woman casually leaning back on the bed.
"Feel better?" Isabella asked. A smirk played on her face, but there appeared to be a bit of annoyance as well. My own annoyance emerged at Isabella's presence. I couldn't give a fuck if she'd heard me beating off, but I was in no mood to be around anyone.
"What do you want?"
Her eyes narrowed. "An update. It's been days and you haven't even allowed me to speak to Maddix."
"Because he's busy, Isabella," I said, rolling my eyes. "Jesus, will you leave it alone?"
"Sorry, Master." Isabella battered her lashes and feigned regret. "I guess I'm just lonely. You can understand that, can't you?"
Isabella lifted from the bed and crept my way. I didn't miss the way her hips swayed as she walked. When she reached me she snaked out her hand and ran her nails along my chest. She bit down on soft full lips exactly the way she knew I liked.
"What are you doing?" I asked as she ripped the towel from my waist. The husky tone of my voice would've given away my desire even if my cock hadn't come to life in Isabella's hand moments later.
Dethroned (Darker Places Book 3) Page 12