“I think first we’ll take turns with that pussy, see if it’s really worth all the trouble,” Poison muses but pauses in his stupid monologuing for dramatic effect or something. He’s acting like one of those moronic villains in a movie who takes the time to explain their evil plan before they do it, giving the hero the chance to run in and save the day.
I don’t live in fiction, so I roll my eyes at him. If either one of them thinks I’m going to give them the satisfaction of cowering like a scared little girl in the corner and begging for them not to hurt me, they’ve got the wrong girl. I learned a long time ago shit is always worse when you struggle or show your fear.
Even knowing that I can’t keep my mouth shut. “If either of you fuckwits tries to stick your diseased microdicks in me, I swear on all that’s holy, I will cut them off.”
They stare at me for a few seconds before laughing their asses off. I shoot Poison a mean-ass scowl before shifting my glare over to Brutal. He’s grossly overweight, and his face is red under his massive grey beard. No self-respecting woman would want to touch him unless she’s getting paid for that shit. Sweat dots his brow, and I recoil from him when he leans closer to the bars. “The funniest part is you think you have a choice.”
“No, the funniest part is you think no one’s coming for me. If you walk away now, you might get to live to see tomorrow. Probably not, but you won’t know unless you try.” I talk a big talk, sure, but inside I’m freaking the fuck out. My whole body is trembling like one of those ratty Chihuahuas, and I hope they can’t tell. These monsters will use any weakness I show to make this worse.
“Enough,” Poison snaps, obviously tired of my shit. Oh, well. I kept him distracted as long as I could, but now his patience is at an end. My heart thunders erratically in my chest, the adrenaline flooding into my veins, making it skip beats in my panic. I take deep breaths to try and calm myself down. Giving in to the terror of what’s about to happen isn’t an option. If there’s an opportunity to escape or maim these dipshits, I need to be thinking clearly enough to take it.
Poison stands up, his tall, lanky frame the opposite of Brutal’s, and moves over to the door of the cage. When he flings the door open and reaches his grubby hand inside to try and grab me, I slide as far back as I can. He doesn’t hesitate to crawl in after me, and that’s his mistake because they left my shoes on, and I wore boots today because I rode on Connor’s motorcycle.
I kick my legs out relentlessly as hard as I can, hitting him in the face any time his arms move away from blocking to try and grab me.
His hand wraps around my ankle and yanks me out of the cage so hard, my head slams back into the ground, and stars explode in front of my eyes. For a second, I’m disoriented and dizzy, and that’s just enough time for Brutal to join in, gripping my wrists so hard the bones creak in protest. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out because I will not give them the satisfaction of enjoying the pain they cause me.
Brutal uses one of his disgustingly sweaty hands to hold my wrists in an iron grip. The other grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me up so violently, when he lets go, he takes some of my hair with him. Tears sting my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. These men have taken almost everything from me, but I won’t give them this. I won’t give them my dignity or my pride.
I won’t beg or plead, and I won’t ever forget. I may not be able to fully fight them off today, but I’m not going to let them do whatever they want to me without causing at least a little bit of damage first.
Brutal stands behind me, his hot, rancid breath fanning over my neck and into my face while he pants from the exertion of lifting me up. He’s not exactly the picture of health and I kind of hope he has a heart attack and keels over right here.
If anyone deserves it, it’s him.
Unfortunately for me, that’s not what happens. Instead, Poison steps up and cages me between the two of them so I can feel their disgusting bodies pressed up against me. At least Brutal’s huge beer gut keeps the erection I saw when he was jerking me up off the ground from prodding into me. If he touches any part of me with that thing, I’ll throw up, and somehow I don’t think that’ll go over well with these two.
It’s hard to do, but I don’t let the satisfaction I feel at Poison’s swollen left cheek and reddened right eye show. If I could, I’d still be kicking him in the face right now. I’d kick him until all that was left was a bloody mess, but he’s bigger and unfortunately stronger than I am, so I’ll take this little win and hold onto it while they do whatever it is they have planned.
“You fucking kicked me in the face,” Poison spits, leaning closer so I can see his yellowing teeth up close and personal. Gag.
“It’s not my fault your face is so kickable. You should probably get that checked out,” I say in my snootiest voice. The last thing I want them to know is how scared I am or how much they’re getting to me. My eyes dart to the door, checking to see if they maybe left it cracked or if Connor’s anywhere close to saving me from this literal den of nightmares, but Poison catches the movement and grips my chin roughly in his hand to force me to look at him.
“No one is coming to save you, you little bitch. Now get on your goddamn knees,” he says and shoves me roughly to the ground.
My knees hit the solid concrete with a jolt of pain that shoots straight up my spine and feels like it rattles my brain. I’ve never been very good at keeping my mouth shut, and right now is no different, even though I know it’s probably stupid. “If you stick that pathetic excuse for a dick anywhere near my mouth, I can promise you I will bite it off.”
Why did guys never think about that when trying to rape a girl? If I don’t want your dick in my mouth, I have a full set of teeth, and I’m more than happy to use them to bite your flesh right off, or at the very least, make you suffer.
“Hold her mouth open,” Poison orders, and Brutal steps up behind me and grips my jaw so hard a whimper escapes despite my best efforts to hold it in. If I get out of this alive, I’m going to bruise. Connor flashes into my mind, an image of him unleashing every single bit of the monster I know he has inside when he sees what these two shitheads have done to me.
I can see it lurking behind his eyes when he thinks he’s got it under control. He’s capable of so much more than he’s shown me so far, and I have a feeling these two are going to bring it out in him.
With the way my jaw is pried open, I can’t talk anymore. Brutal is kneeling behind me and gripping both my wrists and my jaw. I never would’ve thought he was strong enough to manage that shit, but here we are. Poison’s hand drops to the button of his jeans, and he flicks it open.
My pulse is so loud in my ears that I don’t hear the door swing open until I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I can’t turn my head, but suddenly my jaw is free. Poison’s knee is flying at my face, colliding with my temple. This time, the stars that explode in front of my eyes are replaced with complete darkness as I fall to the ground and the world fades out around me.
My head is throbbing, and my whole body is rocking side-to-side when I come to. The motion is making me nauseous, and my head is spinning, but I’m surrounded by a familiar woodsy scent that reminds me of the forest after it rains, and I shudder when I realize I’m safe.
“I’ve got you, Gigi. You’re safe,” Connor says, confirming what I knew. His voice is gruff, and I let my eyes fall closed again, burrowing my head against his chest and letting him take me away from the horror of what just happened.
“What happened?” I rasp because my voice is hoarse as shit, and my jaw hurts when I try to move it.
“Those motherfuckers put their hands on you, and I made them pay for it.”
I didn’t know what to make of that, but I was so tired that I didn’t ask any follow-up questions. I’d find out eventually, and for now, all I wanted to do was shower and pass out. Based on how tightly he’s holding me against his body, I doubt Connor is going to let me go back to my room by myself. I’m not at all surprised when
he swings the door to his room open and stalks straight through to the bathroom like he can read my mind.
It’s not until he sets me on the bathroom counter so he can turn on the water in the shower that I notice his hands and arms are coated in blood, and there are speckles of it on his face, too. He looks savage, like a warrior back from battle, and even though it’s probably the worst possible moment, my body comes alive at the sight. He did that for me, for what those men did to me, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything sexier.
An intense craving for him rushes through me as warmth spreads between my legs. I watch as he reaches back and pulls his bloodied black t-shirt over his head and tosses it aside. His back is to me, and so I sit and watch the hard muscles move underneath his ink-painted skin as he adjusts the temperature of the water.
Steam starts to fill the room, fogging up the mirror behind me. I shiver, but not from the cold. Connor turns toward me, his hypnotic hazel eyes raking over my body. They linger on my breasts, where I know my nipples are visible points underneath my shirt.
He looks almost guilty when his eyes find mine again like he knows I just went through some shit, and the last thing I need is him ogling me. Except that’s all I can think about now—his hands on my body—so I give him a smile, even if it fucking hurts to do it.
“Are you okay?” he finally asks me after his hand goes to the side of my neck and just sits there like he has to hold onto me to make sure I’m really here and okay. His thumb rubs circles over the artery in my neck, and I’m pretty sure he’s feeling my pulse under my skin.
“Not really,” I admit because my life is fucked up on the best of days, and today—well, it’s not even close to one of the best days. What makes all this suck more than anything else was up until those two pieces of shit threw me in a goddamn cage and put their hands on me, it had been one of the best days of my life so far.
“They won’t touch you again,” Connor promises as his fingers move away from my neck and up to brush my hair away from my bruised face. He’s so sincere when he says it I don’t have any choice but to believe him. “I made sure of that.”
A shadow crosses his eyes, and it looks like he’s replaying whatever it is that happened in that basement torture chamber after I got knocked out. I run my hand up his chest and along his cheek, bringing his attention back to me. “I knew you’d find me.”
He exhales a loud breath and rests his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. “I thought I was too late, and when I saw you kneeling on the ground between them, I lost it.”
“Thank you, but are you going to get in trouble with Savage?” The current president seems like he’s different than the old one. Still, so far, he hasn’t done anything official to stop the kind of shit that happened to me today. I have no idea how he’ll handle Connor doing what he did to Brutal and Poison.
He shook his head and pulled back so I could look at him again, and I watch as that darkness that’s always swirling behind his eyes comes out before he blinks it away. “Savage was right behind me down into that basement. I might’ve stabbed Brutal a few times before making his balls nothing more than a disfigured decoration, but Savage did worse to Poison. You don’t want to know. Unfortunately, they’re both still alive.”
I wasn’t sure if it made me a bad person to not feel bad about what happened to my abusers, but I didn’t. If anything, I’m relieved and happy they were made to suffer. I wrap my arms around Connor and bury my sore face in his chest. When his arms come around my back and pull me closer, I breathe him in and sigh in relief.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he promises, and his voice vibrates through his chest and into my skin. I swear I can feel it, that deep baritone of his, rumbling through my body and straight to my core. There’s something about him that sucks me in and makes me want to jump on him constantly. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, and it scares the shit out of me.
Everyone I’ve bothered to care about in my life has hurt me, so while I may want to throw caution to the wind and give my heart to this man holding me like I’m precious, I can’t. At least not until I know he’s going to follow through on his promise to me.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want to get lost in him and forget about the last few hours. I lean back and run my hands down the hard planes of his chest, letting my fingers wander over the ridges and dips of his abs until I get to his belt.
His hand reaches out and stops mine from undoing his belt. He’s watching me with concern. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I smirk, or what might pass for a smirk, and then grimace at how much it hurts. He starts to pull back, and I tighten my hold on his belt buckle, slipping the leather through the metal until it’s undone. “I want to forget,” I explain simply because I know he’ll get it.
He doesn’t say anything else, but he slides his blood coated hands down from my face and neck onto my ribs, tracing my curves with his big, rough palms. I shudder under his touch, watching as his eyes darken with desire and his eyelids come down halfway.
His hands come to rest on my sides, and his thumbs run across the skin just underneath my breasts. My nipples go rock hard under his attention, and I lean into him, wanting him to touch higher, to rub those thumbs across my nipples, to tease me until I’m begging him for more.
But he doesn’t. He lifts me off the counter and gently strips off my clothes before taking his own off and grabbing my hand to guide me into the shower. It’s crazy hot watching this big, intimidating, inked-up man be so sweet with me, and when he steps under the spray of the water, my breath catches.
Droplets of liquid run down the dips and crevices of his body, and I want to follow each and every one with my tongue. “I can feel you staring,” he says with a laugh even though his eyes are still closed as he rinses off the soap and blood.
When they open, they’re still as heated, but now they also have a gleam in them that promises all the fantasies currently running through my head are about to come true. “I can’t help it if watching you under the water is hot as hell. It’s really your own fault.”
My breath gets shallow when he reaches out and grabs my arm, jerking me forward so our bodies collide. His skin is warm and slick against mine, and my heart pumps harder as he kisses me. His kiss is full of hunger as the water rains down on us, running down my face like tears as his tongue seeks mine. It goes on and on, slow and tender, soothing every hurt and hard edge of the day away until everything else sort of fades away in the background of this moment.
My legs turn to liquid as the kiss goes on, and I’m not sure I can keep standing here. I’m desperate for him to touch me and completely soaked between my thighs—and not from the shower. Connor seems content to take his sweet ass time, but I feel like I’m two seconds from climbing him and taking what I want myself.
He must sense I’m getting edgy because he smiles against my lips and pulls back, staring at me from eyes ringed with dark, wet, lashes as water drips down his stupidly gorgeous face. “Getting impatient, little demon?” he coos while he rubs his nose against mine, and I hate that it makes me feel all gushy inside.
“It’s not my fault your dick is basically perfect,” I pout. He laughs like he knows exactly what I mean, the arrogant bastard. I narrow my eyes at him. “So, why don’t you show me again how good you are at using it?”
He steps forward and bends down to grip the backs of my thighs, lifting me up like I weigh nothing and pushing my back up against the wall. We’re out of the spray of the shower now, but the room is hot and steamy. Even if it were freezing, I doubt I’d care with his muscular body pressed up against mine and his cock, all thick and pierced and hard, rubbing against my soaked core.
I don’t even care that kissing was our only foreplay. I’m wet enough that I don’t need anything else. “Please,” I beg as I’m also panting, and I’m sure I’m a total wreck with my bruised face and my flushed skin, but he’
s looking at me like he wants me as much as I want him as he slides inside me.
His fingers dig into my skin as he starts to thrust in and out of me. My head falls back against the tile, and I close my eyes, losing myself to the sensation of our bodies coming together. His breathing is harsh in the small space, and I cry out a loud, “Fuck!” when his fingers find my clit.
“You like that?” he asks as he pushes his dick as far inside me as it will go and then drags it back out slowly so I can feel his piercing against every inch of sensitive flesh inside me. His lips find my neck, and he sucks relentlessly as his thrusts get harder and deeper.
He’s pounding me into the wall, and I might have bruises on my back to match my face when we’re done, but God, I hope he never stops. Pleasure coils up my spine and bursts out from every nerve ending in my body as my back arches off the wall, and I tighten around him as I come.
My orgasm pulls him right along with me, my walls twitching with aftershocks even as he lets out a loud groan and spills himself inside me. I’m not ready to let go, so I tighten my grip on him as he presses kisses to my neck and breathes me in.
When he finally puts me down, my legs are shaking, and both of our cum drips down my thighs. We wash off as fast as we can in the cold water, and when we get out, he wraps me in a towel and carries me to the bed, tucking me in against his chest. The last thing I hear before I succumb to sleep is his whispered promise, “They won’t touch you again.”
Waking up wrapped around Gigi was quickly becoming my favorite way to start the day. Last night I avoided having the conversation with her I know I need to, but she looked so lost and broken after how I found her in the basement that I couldn't bring myself to shake her world any more than it already had been.
Thinking about those two fuckers and what they were about to do to her if I hadn't walked in when I did makes my blood boil all over again. They didn't escape my wrath—or Savage's—but I didn't take it as far as I wanted to. The president wouldn't let me, and I have to begrudgingly admit he's earned enough of my respect for me to pay attention when he asks something of me.
Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1) Page 13