Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, Quilla,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. If she didn’t know that this man in front of her was a killer—was planning to kill her—she would swear that he was genuine. His eyes were soft, his touch gentle. He sat down next to her, took her hand. “You look incredible, darling, and so lovely.”

  She forced herself to smile. “The dress is beautiful, thank you.”

  He touched her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

  They had dinner, but Quilla’s throat was closing up, and she barely touched her food. She dug her nails into her palms, trying not to cry. I can’t do this; I can’t do this …

  “Quilla.” Gregor took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  She shook her head, and he smiled. “Good. Me neither. Come with me.”

  He took her hand and led her into another room … his bedroom. Quilla froze. Gregor had copied Jakob’s bedroom from the apartment. Her bedroom. Gregor was watching her carefully.

  “I thought it might relax you,” he said, but his eyes belied his soothing tone. Bastard.

  Quilla felt his hand slide down her back, and the zipper on the dress being drawn down. God, this is it. Turn off your feelings; that’s the key.

  Gregor’s lips were at her ear. “Convince me, Quilla; remember, this is the difference between a bullet in the head for your blonde friend or not … make it real.”

  He drew the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, walking around her. He touched the scar on her belly from his knife. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know what a work of art you were; I would never have sullied you.”

  She wanted to scream. This was unbearable. She decided to get it over and done with. She grabbed his lapels and tugged his jacket off. Gregor laughed, casting his tie aside—in case you try to throttle me with it—and she unbuttoned his shirt. His body, while impressive, left her cold, but when he swept her up onto the bed, she began to tremble. His kiss was gentle.

  “This will be much more pleasurable if you relax, Quilla.”

  He was already hard; she could feel his cock through his pants, ramrod hard against her thigh. He got up and stripped the rest of his clothes off, then slid her panties down. A tear rolled down her cheek, and he kissed it away. She didn’t want to look at him, but her eyes slid to his cock as he slipped a condom on.

  This is really happening, she thought and started to panic. She tried to sit up, covering her breasts, her sex, with her hands but Gregor, much stronger pulled her hands away and pinned them to the bed. His eyes burned into hers as he lay on top of her.

  “Put your legs around my waist, Quilla.”

  She complied, her thighs weak and trembling, and when he entered her, she was so dry she cried out. Gregor smiled, beginning to thrust.

  “Christ, Quilla, no wonder Jakob Mallory’s like a dog on heat … so sweet …” He rammed himself deeper into her, and she gave a sob. “Make it real, Quilla,” he warned. “Or I’ll kill you both tonight. Slowly.”

  Afterward, he dressed quickly, throwing her dress at her. “Get dressed. Tomorrow night, you had better learn to act real quick, Quilla. Your body is incredible but next time, I want you engaged. I don’t want to fuck a corpse.”

  “You made me a corpse,” she whispered, but he didn’t hear her. She had never felt as low as she did at this moment. Right now, she wanted him to take his knife to her, to use her as target practice, to make sure she was dead, dead, dead, so she didn’t have to feel this pain. She had betrayed Jakob. Even if by the smallest chance they made it out of here alive, nothing would be the same again.

  Gregor called Paul and, not looking at her again, told him to take her back to her room.

  Hayley was curled up on the mattress, but as soon as she saw the look on Quilla’s face, she scrambled to her feet and caught Quilla as she finally collapsed into her arms and began to sob.

  Gregor was gazing at the laptop when Paul came back. He glanced at what his boss was watching and snickered. “You sending that to Mallory?”

  Gregor frowned. “No. Not this one. She back in the room?”

  “Yeah.”

  Gregor considered. “Give them some more blankets, some of that bottled water, some chocolate. Maybe a couple of those paperbacks we found.”

  Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “Going soft?”

  Gregor gave a snort. “Paul, one day you’ll learn, you get more bees with honey. There’s no harm in them thinking we’re treating them well. They’ll be more receptive.”

  “You mean she will be more receptive.”

  Gregor went back to the video he was watching, the video of him fucking Jakob Mallory’s wife. “Quite. Maybe if she warms up, we’ll get the video we need to send to Mallory. The one where she looks like she’s enjoying it.”

  He grinned up at Paul. “Won’t that just break his little heart?”

  Carter handed Jakob a cup of coffee. “Skandar’s on his way? Good.” Jakob filled Carter in on the lack of progress his family’s detectives had made.

  Carter reciprocated by telling him his—what Ali had taken to calling—Survivalist Guide to Kidnapping theory. Jakob was surprisingly receptive. “At this point, I’ll take anything,” he said when Carter expressed his surprise. “I’ve learned in business that it’s best to keep an open mind. Anything come of it?”

  “Maybe. A couple of Walmarts in the greater Seattle area report large stocks of goods being bought by the same men for the last month or so. Could be nothing; we’re getting the security tapes. Would you take a look, see if you recognize anyone?”

  “Definitely.” Jakob suddenly felt his spirits lift. Something palpable he could do, at last.

  “How’s Skandar?”

  Jakob shook his head. “Beyond terrified. It doesn’t help that the press are all over him, all the time. He’s going to lose it if they corner him.”

  “You got someone with him?”

  “Joel and Nan, and we’ve hired in some more people, security, and press liaisons. Shit, Carter. I’d say this was an unbelievable situation, but the more I think about it, I should have seen this coming, should have protected her better.”

  “You had a team of bodyguards.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  Carter shook his head. “Sometimes it really is out of our hands.”

  Jakob was silent for a long time. “Quilla’s a fighter, you know. I keep expecting her to turn up, barefoot and bedraggled on some highway somewhere, with Hayley, having kicked and punched and fought her way out.”

  Carter watched him. “That’s a romantic notion, but that could get her killed. I hope she’s not taking risks.”

  Jakob was silent. God, come back to me, baby, please …

  Carter’s phone rang. “Yeah. Cool, on our way.” He stood and gestured to the door. “The tapes are here; let’s take a look.”

  The second night, Quilla gave the performance of her life. She and Hayley had talked all day about how to deal with the impending … “Rape,” Hayley said firmly.

  “God, don’t call it that,” Quilla groaned, nausea rising in her throat. “Please.”

  “But it is, Quils,” Hayley said, suddenly seeming eons older than her twenty years. “He’s using the threat of death to make you have sex with him. Rape.”

  Quilla knew she was right, but it didn’t make her feel any better knowing that technically, her consent was being extorted from her. She had cried pretty much the rest of the night, trying to hide it from Hayley, but her friend had known and had held her tightly. If we ever get out of here, Quilla thought, I’m telling the world how much I love this girl.

  “Look, can you make out it’s Jakob you’re having sex with? Close your eyes and think of Mallory?”

  Quilla blew out her cheeks. “I don’t want to do that. Because if I ever get to be with Jakob again, I don’t want the association.”

  Hayley made a face. “Of course not. Okay, how about someone from your Hall Pass list.”

 
; Quilla looked askance. “My what?”

  Hayley rolled her eyes. “The list of celebrities you’re allowed to do it with, and your boyfriend can’t complain.”

  Quilla laughed. “Is that right? Have you got a list?”

  “Hell, yes. So has Skandar. We locked that shit down the first week we were together.”

  Quilla shook her head, still laughing. “So the rules are you can pick so many celebrities that if you were to meet and get the chance to have sex with, you’re allowed?”

  “That’s it. So, I’m saying, tonight, use one of yours.”

  “I don’t have a list.”

  “Everyone has a list. Come on, think of someone.”

  Quilla chewed her lip. “Matt Damon?”

  “You got the hots for him?”

  “Kinda.”

  “Not good enough. I know, pick someone you would have hot, dirty sex with but that would be it. You don’t even want to chat with him, just do it against a wall then leave. That’s who you want to picture.”

  “Got it. Hang on then, let me think ...”

  “Channing Tatum?”

  “Eww, no.”

  “What, not even as a DF?”

  “DF?”

  “Dirty Fuck. That’s what they’re called.”

  “Man, you’ve really thought this through.” She chuckled. “But you are making me feel a whole lot better.”

  “What else have we got to do but talk? One of the Avengers?”

  Quilla raised her eyebrows. “I can’t see past Black Widow when I watch that.”

  “Oo, little lady loving, nice. Beyoncé’s on my list. No, we need a man. Hey, how about Sebastian Winter?”

  “Asia’s ex? Nope, look, I’ll just come up with a composite man in my head. Again with the association thing, I don’t want to be watching … Daniel Craig, and then feeling sick.”

  “Good plan. But we are going to discuss this further; I can’t believe you haven’t got a Hall Pass list.”

  Hayley’s attempt to lighten the mood had worked and it wasn’t until Paul came to fetch Quilla that the horror set in again.

  Again, she was unable to eat but followed Gregor as he led her to the bedroom. It came to her as Gregor was undressing her. She needed to pretend that she was someone else, not pretend this monster in front of her was anything than what he was. As her dress hit the floor, she switched Quilla off.

  Gregor kissed her, and she responded, kissing him back. She noted his surprise with satisfaction. I hate you, you scumbag, but you will believe quite the opposite when I’m done.

  And she did it; she went through with it, faking every sigh, every moan—not too much, so it was clearly fake—but enough so that Gregor was convinced she was starting to enjoy herself. So absorbed was she in her performance that it was over quickly, and Gregor looked pleased.

  “That was much better, my darling,” he kissed her tenderly.

  When she got back to the room, she nodded at Hayley, almost imperceptibly. Hayley’s eyes flickered to Gregor and back.

  “After a lovely evening, I’m feeling generous. Hayley, dear, is there anything you need?”

  Hayley sighed. “Our freedom?”

  Gregor smiled. “Funny girl.”

  “New underwear,” Quilla said suddenly.” And tampons.”

  “Of course. Let Paul know your sizes for the underwear and we’ll arrange it.”

  “Pizza. Hot pizza,” Hayley added hopefully.

  When Gregor and Paul had gone, Quilla hugged Hayley. “Not so bad tonight.”

  “Good. Undies and tampons?”

  Quilla grinned. “If you saw an oaf like Paul buying underwear, especially in specific sizes, and tampons, wouldn’t you suspect something weird? He has hick written all over him. I’m hoping some salesgirl will have some smarts about them and maybe say something to someone. It’s a long shot, but you never know.”

  Hayley squeezed her arm. “You are a genius. Do you want a bath?”

  “God, yes, please.”

  “Good, because there’s something I want to show you.”

  She led Quilla into the bathroom, twisting the faucets on. When the water was filling the tub, Hayley beckoned Quilla over to the wall near the toilet. She glanced over at the door to make sure no one was coming in, then indicated a tile near the floor. She flicked it with her nail and it popped out.

  “I found this earlier,” she said in a low voice. “I’m thinking, we snap it in two, then use the rough edge to …” She made a cutting motion against her neck. “We wait behind the door, then when one of them comes in, jumped on his back and kill him.”

  Quilla smiled at Hayley’s excitement. “It’s a good plan, Hays … if we’ve run out of every other option. This is our back up, right?”

  Hayley looked a little deflated. “I guess. I just … I hate that you have to do this for us. I want to help.”

  “You are helping, so much, you don’t know.”

  Hayley looked a little tearful. “I feel so useless.” Quilla hugged her.

  “You know what? Sit on this toilet and talk to me while I soak and get that asshole’s stench off of me.”

  On the other side of the house, Gregor watched the video of him making love to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, watched her face as she came, her delicious body undulating under him as he fucked her, saw her kiss him passionately. He smiled.

  “This is for Padme, you bastard.”

  He opened his email and began to type.

  “Carter, dude, we may have something.” Carter sighed as Ali Bell, looking excited, flew into the room.

  “Really? Or is this another false trail.”

  “Debbie Downer,” Ali snapped at him, then grinned. “Nope. You know the ex-girlfriend; the one Jakob Mallory was shtupping on the side?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Padme Khan. Got a job in prestigious London law firm and left Seattle—and her two lovers behind.”

  “I know this already.”

  “Patience. Khan was murdered less than two years later, an apparent street mugging gone wrong. But, here’s the thing, even the London dicks think there was more to it. Overkill, they called it. The perp wanted it to look like a mugging, but the woman was repeatedly stabbed, more than thirty-seven times in the stomach. No street mugger does that.”

  Carter was interested now. “Was Fisk ever questioned?”

  “Had an alibi. A shady one, but enough for them to drop that line of questioning.”

  “So he knew about the affair then?”

  “I’d bet my ass on it.”

  “Wow, that’s a big bet.” Carter grinned as Ali flipped him the middle finger. “So, do we have a motive?”

  “Putting my psychologist’s cap on—hey, I got some psych credits before I switched—I’d say killing his first love sent him over the edge, and he blamed Jakob. To him, Jakob put that knife in his hand. Jakob took away his love. Now he’s going to do the same to him.”

  Carter looked bleak. “We’re not getting those girls back alive, are we?”

  Ali didn’t answer. Steve, a younger agent, stuck his head around the door. “Sir? We’ve got a hit on an email Mallory was just sent. We think it’s from Fisk.”

  Ali looked shocked. “You’re monitoring his emails?”

  Carter shot her a look. “Of course, we are. You really think it’s from Fisk?”

  Steve nodded. “I don’t think there’s any doubt. You gotta see this.”

  Jakob was flipping through the photos he and Quilla had taken of each other since that first meeting in Venice. It was sweet, sweet torture. His email pinged, and he switched over to it, expecting spam or worse, more press intrusion. When the name showed up as unknown, his heart started beating harder. He clicked on it, and his heart dropped.

  Love from Quilla … was all it said. A video attachment. Oh, God, no … was this Gregor sending him the video of him killing her? Was he about to witness Quilla’s murder?

  Please, God, no …

  He hesita
ted for a long moment, closing his eyes, not wanting, but needing, to know what was on that video … he opened his eyes and clicked play.

  “Shit,” Carter hissed and was out of the door before Ali could stop him. He ran the few blocks to Jakob’s hotel and took the elevator to the top floor.

  Jakob answered the door, and Carter knew he’d seen the video because he was looking at the face of a heartbroken man …

  Part Nine: Taunt Me

  Floriana Morgan smiled at Jakob as he came into the kitchen the next morning. “Hey you, can I get you some coffee?”

  He looked awful; dark circles under his reddened eyes, his whole body slumped and dragging. He tried to smile at her. “Yes, thanks.”

  As she poured his drink, she could feel him watching her, and she blushed a little. Jakob gave her an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry I’m staring. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said gently. “It's just you remind me of Quilla so much.”

  Flori swallowed her own sadness. In the few months she had known Quilla, they had grown very close, and yes, she could see the resemblance. Both them were dark, petite, curvy; both of them obsessed were with art; both of them were madly in love with a Mallory brother. She put a hand on Jakob’s. “We’ll get her back, Jakob.” But she knew that’s not all that was bothering him.

  The FBI agent in charge of their case, Carter James, had called Grady the previous evening and told him what had happened. Grady had gone to collect a wrecked Jakob, and when Jakob had retired to the guest room, Grady told Flori what had happened. Flori couldn’t imagine that Quilla had slept with Gregor Fisk voluntarily, the man who had tried to kill both her and Flori, never mind enjoyed it. No, she reasoned, he must be coercing her, under pain of death for her and Hayley. That was the only explanation but now, looking at Jakob, she could guess the turmoil in his mind.