Filthy: A Dark Romance (A Damaged Romance Duet Book 2)

by Michelle Horst

  Cameron laughs suddenly. “And they say men never grow up, only the toys get more expensive.”

  “I love my dolls.” I shrug, not caring what this monster thinks, as long as he sells them to me. “There’s just something so erotic about watching two people fuck.”

  “Indeed,” he agrees. His sinister eyes pin me, and I know from experience that it’s time to seal the deal. “Give me a figure and I’ll think about it.”

  “Three million for both,” I say without hesitation, keeping the amount low. I know this man is going to chase it up. I’ve dealt with his kind before.

  “People pay that in a year to have a taste of them.”

  I cross my legs, letting the skirt pull up. “Why don’t we cut the crap? You tell me how much you want and I’ll pay it.”

  Cameron’s eyes glide over the tables. He doesn’t say anything for a good ten minutes as he takes in all the depravity around us.

  I let my eyes go to Jack, and just the sight of him makes my heart beat faster. I have to get him out of this place. The need to save someone has never been as intense as it is at this very moment.

  “Five million,” Cameron snaps. I look back to him and when our eyes meet he smirks. “Each.”

  Ten million. Fuck, that will be the most I’ve ever paid for slaves.

  I look at Jack again, and a longing to see that man free overwhelms me. “Three million each.”

  I hear Cameron chuckle, but I don’t bother looking at him. “Four.” The single word sounds empty and cold and I know that’s it, he won’t go any lower.

  “It’s a deal. I’ll transfer the funds to you tomorrow. When can I have them?”

  “Eager, Mrs. Ryland?”

  “Very much.” I make sure to smile seductively as I look at Jack.

  “He is always booked for Friday afternoons and Saturday evenings. You may take him on Sunday.”

  “Thank you.” Another two days in this hell hole, and then I can take them and leave. I can do this.

  I search the room and find Adam, where he’s still standing by the girl. He gives me a slight nod, indicating that he got her for the night. I sigh with relief, knowing she will be safe for a few hours, at least. Adam will look after her while I take care of Jack.

  Just three days, then we’re going home.

  ***

  Cameron snaps his fingers at Sven.

  “Mistress Ryland won Jack. Let her have a key for room fourteen.” He turns back to me and I can see that he’s satisfied with the money he made tonight. That’s good as it will keep him from suspecting anything. “You’ll find your room just down the hall, to the left. Enjoy your evening.”

  He gets up and laughs loudly. “Bring the slave to Mrs. Westbrook.”

  Letting out another burst of laughter he turns to the Westbrook.

  “My dear, seeing as you got so close to winning the slave for the night, I’ll allow you thirty minutes with him for half of what you staked.”

  “You’re so generous,” Westbrook snaps, shooting a dark glare my way.

  No, that was not part of the plan. I’m going to be sick if this woman so much as touches Jack.

  Jack follows Sven to our table, and his movements remind me of a tiger stalking its prey.

  “Your slave, Mistress,” Sven says before he leaves to attend to the other tables.

  “Thank you, Sven-dear,” Mrs. Westbrook purrs. She goes to stand in front of Jack and then pets him. Seeing her touch him, makes my skin crawl.

  “I wish Cameron would sell this slave to me. There is so much I’d like to do with him.”

  In your fucking wildest dreams bitch! I wish I could grab her by her hair, drag her over the table, and shove a paddle up her wrinkled ass.

  “Get on the table, Slave,” she commands.

  My eyes are fixed on Jack as he positions himself on the table. He’s a large man, and barely fits.

  The old woman practically jumps him, unzipping his pants and then yanking it down. I feel bile rise in my throat. Under the florescent lights, I can see marks marring his chest, abdomen, and his legs and inner thighs. My heart weeps for all this man had to endure in his life. I can’t help but wonder how he ended up like this.

  She takes hold of his cock, and I have to clench my jaw so I don’t do something to jeopardize the whole situation. Even though he’s not hard, he is well endowed.

  I take solace in the fact that I’ve bought his freedom. Come Monday, Jack will be safely on the plantation.

  She straps Electrosex bands on his cock, and then she proceeds to stroke him. I can see how frustrated she’s getting with the fact that she can’t get his cock to harden for her.

  “I got you a present, Slave,” Mrs. Westbrook purrs.

  I suck in deep breaths to keep the rampant emotions warring inside of me under control.

  “Tonight, these Electrosex bands will make you hard for me,” she snaps.

  So that’s what she wants from Jack. He doesn’t get hard for her. The thought that he’s fighting her in some way, fills me with relief. As long as a person has fight, there is always hope.

  I watch Jack tense as the first charge of electricity hits him. A deep sadness wells up in me as his cock starts to harden from the electric pulses assaulting him. I can feel the frustration coming off him.

  “See how hard you’re getting for me now,” the bitch says. “Look at your hard cock.”

  I wish I could rip her rotten heart from her chest. Nothing would give me more pleasure at this moment.

  I glance at my watch and notice that she only has a couple of minutes left. I practically count the seconds down. My eyes jump from my watch to Jack’s face, until the last second finally slips away.

  “I believe your thirty minutes are up. The slave is mine now.” I can’t hide the anger from seeping through my words.

  “This is ridiculous!” the bitch shrieks, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “I’m sure you can wait another ten minutes!”

  Over my dead body. The woman’s insane if she thinks I’m letting her have one more second with Jack.

  “No, I paid for every minute.”

  I don’t think, and reach out to Jack. Touching his shoulder, I say, “Get up, and take that thing off.”

  Jack darts up, doing what I said. He slips from the table and the old bitch goes to stand right in front of him, blocking his way. “I’ll see you next week, Slave.”

  I take hold of Jack’s hand, and the action makes him look at me. For the first time tonight, shock flashes over his face.

  I glare at the old hag, letting my eyes burn angrily over her. Not bothering to hide any of the hatred I feel for her, I snap. “Not if I have any say in the matter.”

  I lead Jack from the room to the designated room assigned to us. I can feel his eyes on me every now and then. He must be wondering what I have planned for him. I wish I could put him at ease, but that would blow our cover.

  Once we’re in the room, I lock the door behind us. Constantly aware of the cameras planted everywhere, I whisper, “Please go take a shower, and wash that women’s touch from your body.”

  He obeys immediately, and it gives me a few minutes to prepare myself for the night.

  I’m so tired of this shit. I’m bone weary from all the years of emotional torture of watching people being hurt. But no matter how tired I am, I can’t stop. Knowing that I’m saving lives, gives me a sliver of peace. When my father was alive, I had no control over what happened to the slaves in our house. I grew up around people being raped, beaten, and killed.

  I have to make up for all the destruction my father caused. I’m giving away every cent in this war against everything that vile man stood for.

  When Jack comes out of the bathroom, he has a towel wrapped around his waist. I can’t help but admire his bare chest. Drops of water run down his bronze skin and well-defined muscles.

  I walk to where he’s standing, noticing the leather bands around each of his wrists.

  “You may look at me.” His rai
ses his head and his eyes pin mine with an intense glare.

  This man has so much fight in him. I can feel it pulsing from him. I don’t understand why he’s here. Why hasn’t he broken free? He’s strong enough.

  I remind myself of the part I have to play. Cameron can’t get suspicious of us.

  “I will not require sex.”

  Shock flashes across Jack’s strong features. It’s clear that he’s not used to hearing those words.

  “I’m not into that. I’m a visual person. You may satisfy yourself.”

  I’ve watched so many slaves masturbate. I take consolation in the fact that at least they aren’t being raped and beaten.

  His eyes are sharp and cautious as he watches me. His body is coiled tightly, his hands fisted at his sides. I’m well aware of the fact that he can easily kill me. But instead, he’s waiting for me to attack him.

  “I’m celibate, Jack.” I don’t share that part of me easily.

  The people in my life are on a need to know basis. I feel it’s something they don’t need to know. I don’t date and I don’t fuck. I don’t do relationships, unless it’s a platonic friendship, and even those are limited to only Adam, Tristan and Miss Ella.

  My entire life, I’ve been surrounded by sex. To me, it’s nothing more than a dirty commodity.

  I’ve only had sex twice. The first time it was my own choice. I was fourteen when I gave my virginity to one of the stable boys. It was an act of rebellion against my father. I knew how much he got for a virgin. I was afraid that he would sell me like he sold my mother. He kept my mother around to raise me, and when I turned thirteen, she was sold. I don’t know who bought her, or where in the world she is. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. Deep down, I keep hoping I’ll find her in one of these hell holes.

  Father found out. He forced me to have sex with the stable boy. He threatened to kill the boy if we didn’t do as he said. The boy was still climaxing inside me, when Father put a gun to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. I’ll never forget the awful moment the boy’s body slumped over mine. The horrifying feel of his blood splattering all over me, is engraved in my skin. The all-consuming terror of realizing what an evil man my father truly was almost crushed me.

  That was the day I promised to find a way I could make up for all the evil he has done. I didn’t want people to feel that kind of terror. My prayers were finally answered when he died.

  When Jack frowns, I quickly explain, “I don’t have sex. I don’t like it.” The words are blunt, and I realize my mistake when Jack’s frown deepens. To recover the ground I’ve lost, I quickly say, “However, I do like to watch.”

  I curse myself for thinking of the past when I have to focus on the mission at hand.

  When he grasps what I’m asking for, Jack’s tight features relax a little. Something stirs in his eyes. Did I see right? Was that empathy?

  Hesitantly, I raise my hand to his face. He’s too alive to be a slave. This man feels everything. His suffering must be so much worse than those who manage to switch off. I can’t begin to imagine how he has survived for so long.

  Gently, I brush the tips of my fingers over his cheek. I have no excuse for touching him. I don’t make a habit of touching the people I save, but Jack is different from anyone else I’ve ever met. I can’t explain it. I have an overwhelming need to comfort him. I want to tell him that he will be free. I want to promise him that he’ll never be hurt again.

  But, I keep all the words in, and try to show him with my eyes that everything will be okay from now on.

  I drop my hand away from his warm skin, and walk to the table in the corner of the room. When I take a seat, I make sure my back is to the camera, so they can’t see my face.

  “Satisfy yourself,” I whisper.

  Jack’s eyes linger on me, but then he kneels down on the floor. When he starts to remove the towel, I look away and stare out the window at the dark night. It’s the only privacy I can offer him.

  As the minutes pass, I hear nothing. He doesn’t move at all. My eyes flit back to Jack. He’s still on his knees, his hands resting on his thighs. When my eyes meet his, I’m shocked at what I find. He’s silently daring me to force him to carry out my order. He won’t do anything willingly. If I want anything from him, I’ll have to make him do it.

  This is why they pay so much for him. They want to conquer this wild man.

  I get up and walk over to him. Kneeling in front of him, I take a deep breath. I lean a little forward and whisper so only he can hear me, “I’m not going to hurt you, Jack.”

  For a moment, I watch the battle play off over his tense features. His lips part and his voice is deep and hot, like an ocean of lava. “I won’t submit. If you want my body, you’ll have to take it by force.”

  Read the rest here ~

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  Predator

  Prologue

  Cara~

  “Cara,” Dad calls out to me, “do you have the blanket?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I pull the blanket out of the car and set off after my parents. Unlike most teens, I love being with mine. We have a great relationship. I know I can talk to them about anything. It’s just always been that way with us.

  Dad starts the boat motor and then he steers us down the river. It’s a sunny day with a light breeze to cool the worst of the heat. We always come out here after lunch. This is our family time together. Once we get to the wide open space of the dam, dad starts to slow the boat down.

  I spread the blanket open and laugh happily as Mom and I lie down, trying to get comfy. Dad kills the motor when he’s satisfied with the spot we’re in, and then he comes to lie down on my other side.

  “Look at that one,” Dad says, pointing to a cloud. “It looks like a car.”

  I laugh. “Everything looks like a car to you.”

  “No, seriously,” he laughs, too, but carries on, “look, those are the wheels, that there is the roof.”

  We talk about the silliest of things and then we grow quiet and just listen to the birds chirping all around us. I’m going to miss doing this with my parents, once I’m away at college. I only have a few precious weeks left with them. I drift off, like I always do.

  There is a loud crash that yanks me out of my peaceful sleep. I hear my parents scream and my whole body goes instantly cold from shock.

  The boat tilts sharply and it tosses my body to the side. I try to claw at the floor, searching for something to grab onto. I slam hard into one of the chairs and it jars my body making a sharp pain shoot through me.

  The boat breaks apart with a loud crack, and water swallows the pieces with greedy gulps.

  “Daddy! Mommy!” I shout. My eyes dart around, searching for any sign of them, but there is nothing but the boat breaking apart and the awful noise.

  What’s left of the boat rises sharply into the air, like a beast gasping its last breath. I start to slide down and grab for the chair, but I’m too late. Something knocks hard into my shoulder, only speeding up my decent into the muddy water.

  “Daddy,” I scream as I claw for anything to stop my fall. Splinters of wood stab at me, and then muddy water swallows me.

  I know how to swim. I’m a good swimmer, but the color of the water robs me of my breath … it’s red. I struggle to get back to the top and it only makes an ice cold fear spread through my body.

  I don’t want to die!

  I hear a louder sound. It’s not like the crash. This time it hits at the water, hammering its way closer to me.

  The water won’t let me go.

  White hot pain slices through me and I swallow water.

  I swallow blood.

  ***

  I wake up to a blinding light and I have to blink a couple of times before the light stops stinging my watering eyes. Confusion crashes through me.

  Where am I? I try to say the words, but they come out sounding like a garbled groan.

  My eyes dart around the room, and then a sharp pain s
tarts to pulse in my back.

  Where are Dad and Mom? What happened?

  Shuddering sobs ripple from my chest, making the pain so much worse. Hot tears spill from my eyes, slipping into my hair.

  “Cara.” My eyes jump to the voice and I see it’s Uncle Tom, Mommy’s brother. “I’m sorry,” he says, while getting up from the chair.

  I frown, not sure what he’s sorry for.

  He rubs tiredly over his face and then sighs heavily. “There was an accident. Your parents… they didn’t make it.”

  My parents … they’re dead?

  NO! My heart squeezes painfully and then a sharp twinge starts to grow in my chest. I suck in an agonizing breath, but the feeling keeps growing until I’m hollowed out and only filled with the loss of my parents. On my next breath, sobs start to tear from my throat.

  They can’t be gone! It’s too soon. I didn’t get to say goodbye.

  My thoughts start to race and panic sets into my bones. They can’t be dead … not my parents.

  The reality of never seeing my parents again hits hard, an ache so deep it shatters me. An empty feeling overwhelms me, something I’ve never felt before. It’s like a wave that washes all my happy memories away, leaving only a harrowing heartbreak behind.

  I’m too scared to say a word, and my eyes beg Uncle Tom to tell me different. I keep looking to the door expecting Dad and Mom to come rushing in at any moment.

  They’ll make it all better. They’ll take the emptiness away.

  “The nursing staff will look after you. Once you can walk you should leave the country.” I look at Uncle Tom, confused at his words.

  Why would I leave South Africa? This is my home.

  He lifts the mattress right under my butt, and the movement jars my body, sending a wave of pain through my back. I watch as he shoves a thick envelope under the mattress before dropping it down again.

  “Keep that envelope safe. It has a new passport and some money in it for you. I’ve arranged a visa for you to go to America, but it’s only valid for three months. I could only get you a temporary one on such short notice. You can’t stay here. Once you’re in America, stick to the small towns and never use your name again. Forget where you come from, or they will find you.”