by Izzy Sweet
I groan, relishing the newly discovered pleasure of feeling his silky flesh gliding against my clit.
“This is going to hurt,” he states almost eagerly.
He guides his cock down until the crown is pressing against my entrance.
Before I can pull away, before I can stiffen in preparation, he grabs up my hands and slams forward.
He penetrates me with one deep thrust.
I scream, but his mouth is instantly there, muffling the force.
Searing, agonizing pain burns through my pussy, and I swear he just tore me apart.
I start to fight him. Twisting and turning beneath him. My hands try to jerk out of his grip as my hips try to buck him off.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs as he kisses me gently, but I don’t truly believe he’s sorry.
No, he looked way too damn eager before he slammed into me, and I tell him just that.
He wanted to hurt me, he wanted to destroy me.
He releases his grip on my hands to cradle my face.
He kisses my lips again and then his lips move to my soaked cheeks. Tasting my tears.
I punch and slap at him, but it doesn’t stop him. He whispers sweet endearments as he kisses and strokes me gently.
He tells me how beautiful I am, how perfect I am.
How good it feels to be inside me.
Gradually, the pain begins to fade away, and the punches and slaps become less satisfying with each tender spoken word.
I allow myself to relax beneath him and the burning in my core dulls to a faint throb.
Sensing my submission, his words take a dirty turn.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he rasps, sounding almost agonized. Deep inside me I feel something pulse. “Can you feel how perfectly your little pussy fits around me? You were made to take my cock.”
I begin to shake my head in denial, but his fingers tighten around my face as he slowly, so slowly, slides his cock out. “Yes, Beth.”
Suddenly, he slams back in.
I whimper as the pain fades under a spike of pleasure.
His hand slides up, his fingers fisting in my hair. With a tug, he’s arching my head back as he growls, “Why do you think I bought you?”
Out, he slides, only to slam back in to the hilt.
Smashing my clit in the process.
“I’m not your fucking hero,” he growls as he withdraws.
I shudder, instantly missing the pressure against my little bundle of nerves.
He slams back in, so hard, so deep, so damn gratifying, I cry out.
“I bought you because I want to own you,” he grunts as he grinds himself deep, touching parts of me no one has touched before.
I try to stiffen beneath him, hating that my hips want to rise up. Hating that my legs want to wrap around him to keep him right where he is… right where I feel so full.
He grinds and grinds, rolling his hips as he works himself against me.
And with each roll of his hips, with each smash against my throbbing clit, I feel the walls of my resistance crumbling down.
Just as I begin to tighten up around him, stiffening in anticipation, he gives me one more deep, rolling grind of his hips and then quickly pulls out.
I pant up at him in confusion. I was so close, so damn close.
“I bought you because the moment you walked into my bar, you were mine,” he states as something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
I try to brace myself for what’s to come, but then he reaches down and grabs my hips, tilting them up before he comes back down.
“I bought you because I want my cock to be the only cock you ever know.”
He drives forward and the pleasure that slams into me is so strong, so intense, I can’t stand it.
I start to fight off the orgasm, willing my body to shut it down.
But there’s no reprieve, no chance to escape the sensations he’s forcing on me.
I’m pinned beneath him, trapped against the mattress, as he drives himself into me.
Over and over again.
His skin slapping against my skin.
His will threatening to overpower my will.
He fucks me almost as if he’s trying to punish me. He fucks me almost as if he’s trying to punish himself.
I rock beneath him as his body crashes into my body. Assaulted by pleasure I never asked for, by pleasure I’ve never known.
“Come,” he demands, as his thrusts become harder. Fiercer.
I try to arch away from him, my hands shoving at his chest, trying to push him off. But my hips. My damn hips rock up, pressing into him.
Begging him for more.
“Come,” he demands again, the look on his face strained and intense.
But I can’t let him do this to me. I can’t.
The pressure building inside of me is stronger, different than it was before. Once I go over this edge, I know I’ll never come back.
“Come, goddammit,” he snarls with determination, and I feel his hand release my hip.
Then that hand is there, between us.
Playing with my clit.
“Beth, goddammit. Beth. Come for me, baby,” he groans, sounding nearly desperate, and then suddenly I’m there.
I lock up around him and the pleasure that rocks through me isn’t warm, liquid waves of bliss.
No, it’s a fucking typhoon.
“Fuck,” I hear him roar out as my pussy clamps down on his cock.
Squeezing him.
I cling to him as the pleasure threatens to tear me away and destroy me with its force.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he repeats over and over, and vaguely I’m aware of him filling me up.
Pumping me full of something hot.
My orgasm goes on and on, and for a moment I fear it will never let me go.
But then Johnathan is there, pulling me closer as he gently rocks inside me.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes me as I finally start to come down. “Take all you want.”
His hand brushes back my hair tenderly, and I realize my pussy is still milking his cock.
Suddenly, a little aftershock rolls through me, leaving me jerking and twitching before I can finally still.
I slump in his arms, breathless and dazed.
“Good girl,” Johnathan grins as he slides out of me and nuzzles his nose against my nose.
Despite the little jolt of pleasure coursing up my spine, I have the sudden, overwhelming urge to punch him in the throat.
Good girl? Seriously?
He chuckles as I stiffen, and then rolls over onto his back, taking me with him. He tries to squeeze me up against his side but I start to fight back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his voice an amused rumble.
“Home,” I croak out.
I just let this guy utterly destroy me and I’ve suddenly realized there’s more to be afraid of than having sex.
My throat feels raw and I don’t know why at first. Then my cheeks ignite into flames as I realize I must have done a lot of moaning and screaming.
“Nah,” Johnathan says easily as his arm locks up around me. He drags me closer, against my will, and presses me against his hairy chest. “I think I’ll keep you right here.”
“Keep me?” I repeat a little incredulously and try to push up, off his chest, only to have him push me back down.
“Yeah, keep you,” he says looking down at me. Something flickers in his eyes and I feel frozen as my worse fear suddenly comes true. “Have you forgotten already? I bought you, Beth. I fucking own you.”
12
Johnathan
Normally, when I wake up next to a warm female body, my thoughts are pretty precise—why the fuck is she still hanging around?
Now those thoughts aren’t there, and if I hadn’t solidified my ownership of Beth last night, I would still be feeling contentment with having her here.
Fuck, that’s not good.
I was only joking to myself whe
n I thought I could let her go after a couple of good fucks in the sack. Not now.
No, not now.
She’s fucking mine. I bought her and I sure as fuck intend to keep her.
Last night, my racing mind went through all the implications of those thoughts.
Lying next to her kept me from falling asleep. Even when her breathing went slow and deep, her body did this jerking thing a couple times, and I have no doubt it’s because she was dreaming of her past few days.
Those dreams of hers are what kept me up.
The thought that she had to go through something like that. The knowledge that she’s far from safe right now and she’s blissfully unaware, it’s going to be a fucking issue.
I can feel it.
She doesn’t have the real world awareness to understand that us ‘rescuing’ her from the Russians was only the beginning of a shit storm.
Beth’s old life is gone. One fucking night of fun and its fucking gone. Fate? Karma? Bad decisions? None of that fucking matters.
It is what it is.
She didn’t do anything wrong, she made no bad choices. If anything, she should still be locked up in the ivory tower her father left her in.
I’ve read the files on her life, I know the tyrannical rule of her father.
She’s been fucked from day one of her life. And now she’s even more fucked.
Well, fucked by me, and just fucked in general.
She can’t go back to her old life, that’s going to be impossible. It will not work or happen. The moment the Russians spot her at her father’s side, she’s dead. She knows too much, has seen too many faces.
I don’t give two fucks about Lucifer’s plans, she won’t be his fucking tool.
The vibrating on my nightstand sounds harsh in the deadly quiet house. Pulling my arm from under Beth’s head, I snatch the phone from the table and stand up.
“What is it?”
“So you’ve finally decided to answer the phone? Do I need—” Simon starts in on me and his voice sounds shitty. Probably using speaker phone.
“Fucking shut up, you fucking arachnid. What the hell do you want?”
There’s a long silence and I can hear his breathing come out in a hiss. “You fucking Neanderthal. Do you have any idea what you are doing? You were ordered to specifically bring the woman to us, and you couldn’t even do that. You even bought a child. You were expressly told to bring us the woman. Everything else was to be igno—”
My voice is low, but I put as much menace in it as I can. “Simon, if you say one more fucking word about the kid… I. Will. Fucking. End. You.”
The long silence between our words rings out. We’re both breathing heavily, and I can feel his sheer anger through the phone.
I leave the room as quietly as I can to keep from waking Beth.
I know she’s more than likely playing possum. Her breath is too shallow, her body too unnaturally still.
Shutting the door, I walk down the hall, past the room where the kid is curled up in a ball under the blanket. He’s so fucking small… It’s like looking at a wounded animal turning in on itself.
“Gentleman, I believe we need to restart this conversation,” Lucifer’s slow drawl comes through the line, and I know instantly he’s been listening the whole time, watching the little drama play out.
He’s been getting a feel of the situation. Looking at all the angles and lines this little episode shows.
“Yes, sir,” I answer first. “What is it you want, Simon?”
“Why did you not bring the woman here?” he asks, and I can tell he is forcing the civility out his ass.
“I bought her, she’s mine,” I say, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I figure that right there was stupid.
It lays my thoughts and feelings out bare for the world and the devil himself to see.
“That money was from my accounts, Johnathan,” Lucifer says calmly, but I can hear the annoyance in his voice.
“And I have more than enough money to pay you back for both purchases, which I will be doing today. Even with interest it won’t be an issue.”
“That’s convenient,” Simon snarls. “But that isn’t the issue and you know it very well.”
“I didn’t bring her back to you because she’s mine and I’ve taken claim of her. Is that what you need to know, Simon?”
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
I stop looking at the child in his bed and walk down the hallway to the bathroom.
Unleashing a fucking torrent into the bowel, I say, “She’s under my protection. No matter how we look at this situation, she would be as good as dead if we gave her back to her father.”
“Explain,” Lucifer says, and I can tell both he and Simon know exactly what I’m going to say before I even say it.
“They know who she is, there’s too small of a chance they don’t. The moment she’s spotted anywhere near her father, they will be going all in to take her out. The collateral damage would be too big for us to contain, as well.”
“Us? What’s this have to do with us if they harm him or her?” Simon asks, and I’m not sure if he’s pulling my strings or not, but he sounds generally unaware of the most basic answer.
“It comes down to us not being able to contain our fucking problems in the city. We let the Russians get too big of a head and they’re going to take a look at all of us. We can’t afford that, not right now.”
“That’s above your pay grade, Johnathan,” Simon mutters.
“He’s right, Simon.”
There’s another long pause.
Then Lucifer says, “That’s neither here nor there, for the moment. Johnathan, bring Beth and the child to the offices today. We need to speak with them and get what information we can. We also need to know what was happening behind the scenes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, and we also need to speak about this buying her for yourself.”
“We’ll see,” I say.
The phone hangs up and I put the phone down on the sink.
Flushing the toilet, I head back to the bedroom. Passing the bedroom with the kid, I see he’s slowly waking up. His head is turned towards me and his eyes are staring wide-eyed at me.
Shit.
I’m only in my boxers, this isn’t going to be good.
He begins to tremble and I can see his mouth opening to scream, but I shake my head.
Hiding my lower half, I say quietly, “Let me get some pants on. I promise nothing bad is going to happen to you.”
He doesn’t respond verbally, but his mouth closes tight and a small streak of tears erupts under one of his eyelids.
Well, fuck.
Ducking out of the room, I run down the hall to my bedroom
Beth is sitting on the side of the bed. She’s sliding a shirt of mine from the dresser over her top, and I really fight with my instincts to stop and look at the bottom of her breasts before they’re covered.
Fuck, I’m only a man dammit.
Torture. It’s pure fucking torture watching her get dressed.
Shaking my head, I step quickly to the dresser. I was an asshole to the kid last night, and I can only put it down to needing to get the fuck out of there. Well, also needing to lay claim to my woman.
Yanking on a pair of jeans, I zip up. Beth is watching me with a stunned look as I fly past her. “Stay here. I need to talk to the kid.”
“What—” she starts. I wonder if she forgot our little guy was in the house?
Coming to a halt outside of his bedroom, I take a deep breath. Making sure I look calm and composed, I knock lightly on the door jamb.
His head snaps up from where it was hiding on his knees. He’s sitting now in a small ball on the bed, his knees up under his chin.
Staring at me with his big, scared eyes makes me feel like an asshole. An asshole for being an adult. An adult he can’t trust because too much shit has happened.
“Can I come into your room?” I ask him as gent
ly as I can.
Where I attacked first with Simon, I try to play the softer side of my asshole self with this guy. I’m not good with kids.
Fuck, I’m barely good with adults.
“It’s not mine,” he says quietly.
“It is now,” I say, and keep still. I won’t enter that room unless he gives me express permission. “Just like mine and Beth’s is down the hall. This is your room, so it’s your rules.”
He isn’t buying it, though, so I sit down just outside of the doorway.
Fuck, I’m getting old.
My knees crack as they go into the same position he’s in. Mirror, I have to mirror him. Not the abject fear, but the positioning.
It’s like when you interrogate someone, or when you’re in a business meeting. When you want someone to come to your side of things, sometimes you have to start out with being just like them. Very slowly you change your postures and gestures. It gives them a lead to follow.
“Last night must have been really scary for you,” I say. “Fuck, it’s probably more than last night. Right?”
He doesn’t answer, he’s like a small brick wall of fear.
“How long were you with those guys?” I ask.
Nothing.
Fuck it.
“I was kept up like you were for a couple of months back in my early twenties,” I say as I shift a bit, this fucking wood flooring is hard on the ass-bones.
It was more than a couple of months, it was six long fucking months.
“You…” he says quietly after a couple of seconds, but doesn’t finish.
“Yeah… I was down in Mexico… You ever heard of that country?”
He nods his small head, and I know that’s a good step. He’s engaging. This could have taken so much longer, and it probably will if he’s as fucked up as I was.
“Well, I was down there acting like an idiot. Drinking alcohol and causing as much trouble as I could. Bunch of guys I use to know back then, we were all young and stupid. Stupid, as can be,” I growl.
He flinches, but I think he knows I’m not mad at him. More about the shit that happened.
“They have you in a cage, buddy?” I ask.
Again, a small nod.
“Yeah, they ain’t no fun,” I say. “See, me and the guys were at this tit… at a bar, I mean. Lots of music. Grown up girls dancing around the bar for us guys to smile at and give money to. Well… we were being stupid, like I said, and when I tell you this, I’m probably going to say it when you become an adult too. Don’t throw change at a woman dancing and laugh. It’s not smart.”