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Jordan's Quest: Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance book (The Generals' Sons 1)

Page 3

by Veronica Cane


  "No wonder he is so edgy about her." Wilson said, with a devious smile. “I would love to see what’s going to happen when those two get together.”

  Chapter Seven

  After a while, Ashley was able to get herself under control, and struggled to find a more comfortable position, but due to the way Wilson had tied her, she couldn’t even move. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and she was so scared she was having trouble stopping the myriad of terrible images that came to her mind. What was he going to do with her? She kept playing in her mind Wilson’s threat, and she was clear on what that meant.

  She lost track of time, but when she was starting to feel cramps all over her whole body, she heard footsteps outside her cell.

  She closed her eyes and tried to prepare herself for whatever was going to happen. The door opened up, and Jordan entered.

  He laughed when he saw how tied up she was. “It seems Wilson wanted to make sure you wouldn’t escape.”

  “Why are you doing this? You know I won’t say anything. No one would believe me anyway.” She said with a shaky voice.

  “And why should I trust you?” he asked with scorn. “There’s too much at stake, to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “So, you’ll kill me? Just like that?” she replied, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.

  He smiled and walked towards her, taking a seat on the bunk bed next to her. “Oh, I won’t kill you… at least not yet.” He ran a finger over her face, pushing some strands of hair away from it and tucking them behind her ear.

  She closed her eyes instinctively, a shudder rushing down her spine.

  “Right now, you’re mine. I. Own. You.” He emphasized those last three words, as he pushed her chin up.

  She opened her eyes, fire burning in them. “I’m not a thing for you to own, you bastard.” She spurted.

  He laughed amused. “Now, that’s the spirit I knew you had.” He gripped her chin tight. “But I’m afraid you have no say on it. You’re mine, to do with whatever I want.” She moved her head to get away from him, but he just tightened his grip. "There's no escape for you now."

  "You should kill me now, because I won't waste a single opportunity to kill you." She promised through gritted teeth.

  He smiled, not worried at all. "You wouldn’t kill a fly." He got up, pushed the leg of his jeans up, and drew out a switchblade he had in a hidden sheath inside his boot.

  The clicking sound of the knife displaying its blade startled her terribly, and her heart started pounding harder in her chest.

  He turned to her, with the knife in his hand, smiling at the wariness in her eyes. "Now, let's take you to a more comfortable place." He said as he cut the rope that tied her ankles to her arms, sheathing the knife when he was done.

  Effortlessly, he picked her up from the bunker bed and threw her over his shoulder, leaving the cell and heading upstairs.

  She could feel her heart rate increase with every step he took. She pretty much guessed what he wanted from her and her whole body was tensed with the mere thought of it.

  He reached a door on the second floor and kicked it open, revealing a luxurious bedroom with a huge canopy bed in the middle of it.

  He put her down on her feet, next to the bed, and took out his knife again. "Now… you must remain still, we wouldn’t want to cut you by accident, would we?" he said, running the sharp tip of the knife slowly over her cheek, down her neck, and into her cleavage, ripping the buttons off of her blouse, one by one.

  When the tip of the knife touched her skin, her heart skipped a beat. She was so afraid she didn’t dare to move. The knife left a trail of fire behind it, and not because he had actually hurt her… but because somehow, his play with the knife was affecting her in the weirdest way, she could feel her pussy walls clenching hard with every inch of the knife's trail. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, to hate what he was doing to her.

  Then he went up her arm, from her elbow, cutting through the fabric all the way up to her neck, and repeating the process on the other side.

  Ashley looked at him, wanting to kick and struggle but the ominous knife looked able to cut through her as easily as through melted butter, she barely dared to breath.

  Done with the blouse, he reached the skirt's waist and ran his knife through it, cutting it in two, watching pleased as it became a puddle at her feet. He put his knife aside and picking up the rags of her blouse, he pushed it off of her body, leaving her with just her bra, panties and nylon stockings. With every piece of clothing he managed to take off of her, her anxiety grew exponentially, and amazingly her arousal too. He was going to rape her. And that certainty had her breathing hard.

  He threw her over the bed, and with the same knife, he cut off the ropes tying her ankles, and her arms.

  Ashley moaned in pain as blood rushed back to her arms and hands. By then she was starting to panic, and she had to do something, she had to escape him.

  As soon as he cut the last rope she struggled and tried to kick him away from her. But he must have been waiting for her reaction, because he immediately pinned her whole body against the mattress, holding her still, face down, with his own body.

  "No escape, baby, remember?" he grunted in her ear. "You're mine now, and it will be better for you if you remember that."

  "No… please… you can't do this…" she protested, when his hands reached the waistband of her nylon stockings and started to pull them off of her.

  "Of course I can, and this time you won't stop me, this time you won't hide behind nonexistent rules, or silly excuses, this time I'll make you mine, completely." He concluded trashing her nylon stockings.

  Straddling her by her waist, he quickly removed his black shirt, his eyes relishing on her futile attempts to get out from underneath him.

  He flipped her around, still straddling her. She moved her hands to scratch him, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head with just one of his big hands. With his free hand, he started to caress her face, tracing trails of fire, going down her chest. Pleasure and fear mixed inside her and she lost control. Panic took hold of her, and she struggled harder, managing to free her hands and fight him with all her strength.

  He grabbed her even harder, and reaching for the knife, he poked with it, the base of her neck. "Stop it, quit this senseless fight." He said, with a cold tone, smiling deviously when she froze.

  Ashley felt the sting of the knife on her neck and her whole body froze. Would he really kill her? Maybe not, but he could do a lot of damage with that knife and they both knew it.

  Still holding the knife, he started to run it over her chest, drawing the contours of her bra, traveling over her big, round breasts, over the fabric until he reached the hard peak, lapping it a few times, and even poking it a little bit harder, than he had so far.

  The stroll of the knife was awakening opposed feelings in her… she was scared but at the same time she could feel the thrill and the anticipation growing inside her.

  Tired of playing, he dropped the knife to the floor and instinctively she resumed her fight against him.

  Losing his patience, he flipped her once more, got her on all fours, and grasped her hands together behind her back, pushing her legs apart with his knees.

  She was panting, still trying to escape from his grasp, to no avail. The arousal his touch awakened in her only scared her more. How could she feel aroused when he was about to rape her? Her mind couldn’t accept that, so she fought it. She didn’t want this, she couldn’t want this. How could she be aroused by him?

  He ripped her panties, exposing her pussy to his greedy eyes, and his free hand kneaded her buttocks a couple of times before he slid his fingers through her slit, reaching her wet folds, going up to rub her aching clit.

  "No… stop…" she moaned, desperate, feeling her body react to his touch.

  He took her clit between his fingers and with intended slowness, he squeezed it hard, at the same time he leaned over her back and whispered in h
er ear. "Mine, Ashley, you're mine."

  She whimpered, as pain and pleasure blasted through her whole body, making her shudder, when he released his prisoner, it was only to push his fingers hard and deep inside her.

  "Uhmmm yes, this feels so good." He grunted, curving his fingers and pressing them hard against her G-spot.

  She buried her face on the mattress to muffle her moans, as her body danced to the beat he played. This couldn’t be happening… how could she feel so much pleasure from a man who was about to rape her? She didn’t want this…

  She squirmed and tried to pull away from him but he kept her prisoner. He even picked a piece of rope and tied her wrists behind her back, once more, to give him more freedom of movement.

  But this only made her struggle more, forcing him to grab her tightly. "Stop this useless struggle, Ashley, you won't stop me." He advised her.

  "Never, I will never surrender to you." She shouted, maybe trying to convince herself rather than him. For a brief moment, she managed to free one of her legs and kick him hard in the stomach, ripping a growl of pain from him.

  "Let's have it your way then…" he said through gritted teeth, while he captured her once more.

  She heard when he unzipped his pants, and pulled them down his legs, and the next thing she felt was his hard cock poking against her buttocks, before sliding through her slit and entering her hard and deep, with a single shove.

  She let out a muffled cry, feeling him stretching her, making way for him, assailing all in its way, deep inside her.

  Gripping her hips, he started pounding her in and out, interspersing fast, hard thrusts with slower ones, driving her crazy. Then he leaned over her, and his hands pushed aside her bra and captured her nipples, clamping them hard, pinching and twisting them, making her sob and gasp in a vain fight to keep her emotions under control.

  "Oh, yes, I knew you would be all fire…" he groaned, quickening his pace, going deeper inside her, his hands now anchored to her breasts, kneading and squeezing hard.

  "Please…" the plea was unstoppable as she felt her self control escaping her, and rushes of pleasure rip through her whole body.

  His groans became hoarser and she felt him swell up inside her letting her know he too was close.

  He pulled back, releasing her breasts, grabbing her hands instead, riding her even faster, driving his cock endless times inside her, dragging her with him into the wildest orgasm she had ever felt in her life.

  She collapsed over the bed, and he collapsed next to her, and for a few minutes the only sound in the room came from their labored breaths.

  Chapter Eight

  He jumped out of bed, took off his pants, untied her hands and pulled her out of bed as well, guiding her towards the bathroom. There, he helped her out of her bra and made her enter the shower stall, entering after her. He pushed a few buttons and soon they were sprayed with warm water.

  She just stood there, under the stream. She was still in shock. She couldn’t believe she had fallen under his spell in such a way.

  He closed the distance between them and cradled her face with his hands, claiming her mouth with a passionate kiss, robbing her breath once more, igniting the ashes of the passion that had burned between them just minutes ago. "You're mine…" he whispered, when he finally released her.

  She closed her eyes, and shook her head. "Never… never…"

  He let out a dry laugh, and started to bathe her, as if she was a baby, and washing himself after that.

  He dried them and took her back to his dressing room, never letting her out his grip.

  He looked in a drawer and gave her a big t-shirt. "Wear this. I'll get you some clothes tomorrow." He put on some shorts and another t-shirt.

  She considered refusing, but it would be worse wandering around naked, so she put it on in silence. It was a man’s t-shirt, and it covered her up to her mid thighs. "Let's get you back to your cell. I have no intention to pursue you around the property today." He said, grabbing her by her arm and dragging her back to the small cell Wilson had put her on.

  When they were passing through the main hall, a cuckoo clock sounded somewhere in the house announcing the time. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. Her next thought went to her mother. Mara probably had warned her of Ashley's disappearance and she probably was starting to feel desperate with it.

  Without thinking it through, she let out a plea. "Please, my mother… I need to let her know I'm alright."

  He stopped immediately. "She will be notified that you passed away in a tragic accident in just a few hours." He said, as cold as ice, turning to look at her.

  Ashley felt her heart skip a beat, and her breath got caught in her throat. "That's all I have left of life?" she finally managed to say, her hand grasping her neck, in a desperate attempt to ease down the terrible knot she felt in her throat.

  "No… I'm not ready to discard you, just yet. But there's no use keeping your family worried, by not knowing what happened to you. Death is closure." He answered, his tone cold, lifeless, as if he was talking of a meaningless thing.

  "Please… don’t do that." She begged. "Let me talk to her. I'll tell her I found someone and decided to go away with him… please…"

  "No." he resumed his way to her cell, dragging her behind him.

  "Please…" she tried once more.

  "No. It's better this way. You won't go back." The certainty in his voice, made her feel a heavy stone crashing against her chest, tearing her heart apart.

  They reached her cell, and he pushed her in, locking the door behind him, leaving her alone, in the cold cell.

  Jordan locked the door and leaned against it for a few moments. She turned out to be quite a surprise. He hadn’t expected to feel this aroused by her. Even though he had come hard in her, he already needed her again. He wanted to open that door and take her again and again… Only his discipline, and his self-control made him walk away from there, and give himself some time.

  He went to his office and stared out of the window for a while. Then it hit him he had missed lunch, and so had she. He grabbed the phone and called the kitchen. “Norma, I’m hungry.” He told his housekeeper. “What can you fix me and my guest to eat? Something fast?”

  “Good afternoon, Señor Jordan. I had prepared lasagna for lunch. So I can get you that in just ten minutes.” The woman informed, on the other side of the line.

  “Yes, that will do. Serve it on the terrace, for two. Let me know when you’re done.”

  “Yes, Sir, of course.”

  He stood there trying to think what he was going to do with Ashley. Right now, he felt he had to keep her with him for a while. He just had to figure out a way.

  The phone rang. The food was ready.

  He went back to her cell to pick her up. When he opened the door, she was sitting on the bunker bed, her knees up, her arms around them, her forehead leaning on her knees, and her face hidden. Something stirred inside him, but he quickly disregarded all of it. "Come, you need to eat something."

  She didn’t move. She completely ignored his presence. He closed the distance between them, and grabbed her by the arm. "Come."

  "Leave me alone." She shouted, struggling to free her arm from his grip.

  "Don’t push your luck." He threatened her.

  "Or what? You'll kill me? You'll do it anyway." She spurted, furious and desperate.

  He pulled her out of bed and smashed her against the wall, his hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing just enough to make his point. "What you seem to forget, my dear, is there are many ways to kill… some quick and painless, others excruciatingly long and insanely painful. So, don’t push me." With one last hard squeeze, he let go of her neck, and grabbing her by her arm, he dragged her out of the cell, upstairs to the terrace where he had ordered the late lunch to be served. "Sit down."

  Sulky, she sat down, looking around, trying to find a possible escape route. "Before you try anything stupid," he started saying as he sat in front of her, "let me t
ell you a few things: this place is surrounded by ten feet tall walls, every single door has at least two guards, and I have cameras and alarms installed all over the place. Nothing happens here without my knowledge."

  She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

  "My staff is loyal to me, and just to me, so don’t even try to ask for their help." He continued, with a dry smile.

  In that moment, a young woman, probably in her early twenties, with black hair and tanned skin, wearing a maid's uniform, approached them carrying a tray. She set two dishes of lasagna on the table.

  "Thank you, Joanne." He said, politely.

  "You're welcome, señor. Bon appétit." The girl answered and without even expressing a hint of surprise for Ashley's presence there, she went back to wherever she had come from.

  He started eating, but she had decided to ignore the food. She wanted nothing from him.

  "If you don’t start eating immediately, I'll tie you to that chair, and shove the food down your throat." He said, in an emotionless tone, not even looking at her, concentrating on savoring his food.

  Ashley had never felt so helpless in her life. She didn’t know what to do, or how to act, and that was driving her insane. When he had walked in her cell again, and smashed her against the wall, she was forced to accept he was telling her the truth, that she would never get out of there alive.

  But, it seemed he didn’t want her dead just yet. She grabbed her cutlery and started eating, slowly. There was no use in suffering more than necessary.

  They ate in silence, each one submerged in their own thoughts. She kept trying to find a way to let her mother know she was alright, but his words kept coming back to her mind. Her chances of escaping were one in a million. If her mother thought she was alive, she would move heaven and earth to find her, what could easily cause her own death. She would live in constant anguish. So maybe he was right, death was closure, at least when there was a body to bury.

  She put down her fork. "How are you going to convince my mother I'm dead?" she asked, in a low tone.

 

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