by K. I. Lynn
The girl was crying, pleading with him to stop. My chest clenched at her worry for me, but I was more worried about her.
She was the first girl to arrive in all the time I’d been there, and I honestly didn’t know if they would touch her or not. With the hungry looks in their eyes, the way they circled her like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey, I feared for her.
“Vy khotite eto, nuzhno eto.”
“Nyet,” I lied, my body betraying me. I did want him, need him, just as he said.
His fingers tightened and my eyes rolled back as a shudder moved through me.
“Ty moy.”
You’re mine.
A shudder moved through me. I tried to play off my hatred for the control he had over me, but I couldn’t lie to myself. And what was worse…
He knew.
As much as I said I hated it, as much as I said I didn’t want it, he was right—ty moy. I was his.
Only he had claim of me. My life was his. My body was his.
For now.
The girl finally quieted down, her sobs becoming muted whimpers, and Domenico pulled out.
“Back to fucking work,” he growled, then grabbed my arm. His cock was still out, still hard, and he threw me over his shoulder. He headed to the room with the bed, his fingers slipping into my pussy before he slapped my ass and gripped the flesh.
We passed the threshold, and he threw me onto the bed. He reached down and tugged my jeans the rest of the way off, then his shirt.
My eyes widened at the ink that covered his skin. Red. Black. Blood and death. Skull, lion, rose—symbols of who he was.
He pressed my thighs down to the side against the mattress.
Our eyes were locked, and I couldn’t hide it anymore, couldn’t lie, because he saw right through me. Each time he slammed in I cried out, my body tensing. He picked up the pace, a relentless, unforgiving thrust that took my breath away. The force of his thrusts sent goose bumps across every inch of my skin and rocked my body with the magnitude of an earthquake.
I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t slow it down. There were no drugs in my system to blame it on. He could feel it, too, the way I tightened around him.
His teeth nipped at my bottom lip before pressing his lips to mine. A small moan I tried to hold in crawled out. He moved to rest his head in the crook of my neck. I didn’t even notice I’d wrapped my arms around him until he held me so tight I could barely breathe.
I felt a light scrape of his teeth just below my ear. I cried out, my whole body tensing as his teeth sank in. Not hard enough to break skin, but enough that every muscle snapped, and I convulsed in his arms as I came.
“Fuck,” he hissed as his hips pinned me to the bed.
Every twitch could be felt, every groan drawing out my orgasm. He kissed and licked the spot where he’d marked me as he regained his breath. When he pulled back, I expected to see a sated man, relaxed and happy, but that wasn’t what I got.
Domenico’s eyes were on fire, and with each second his relaxed muscles began to tense again. His expression was unreadable—he never gave away more than he wanted to.
I held back a moan when he pulled back and slipped out, suddenly missing that connection. It was the only thing that gave me any good feelings in this shit of an existence I was living.
“Don’t trust Roman,” Domenico said as he pulled up his pants, his fingers deftly buttoning them.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and shifted my shirt back over my breasts, pulling the stretched-out collar up my shoulder. The floor held my jeans, twisted and torn. If it wasn’t for the fact they were the only thing I had to wear, I wouldn’t put them back on. Domenico had shredded my underwear, leaving me with no choice but to slide the grimy denim up my legs.
“Why?” I asked as I wiped up the mess he’d made with the sheet.
“He’s not what you think he is.”
I turned and stared at him, those silver eyes so intense it caused a hitch in my breath.
“He doesn’t violate women.”
Domenico’s eyes widened, his jaw tensing.
“Trust me, princess, I’m not doing this for the pleasure,” he hissed, his eyes darting around.
We were alone, the others having retreated when he’d dragged me in the room—an invisible barrier that kept them out—their entertainment over.
I pulled my jeans up, noticing how loose they’d become. “What does that mean?”
Voices trickled in, getting closer. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the wall, where he closed the shackles around my wrists.
I stared at them, then at him. It threw me, and I didn’t have time to react until I was trapped.
“Stay,” he said.
My jaw clenched, and I glared at his back as he disappeared through the doorway. The cold began to soak in with nothing extra to help insulate.
Raised voices drew my attention back to the door. My whole body jolted at the bang of a gun firing, followed by screams of agony.
Domenico appeared, his jaw locked tight, eyes alight in anger, his gun at his side.
“Did you just shoot someone?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me, but he did set his gun down on the dust-covered table.
“Cosa mi stai facendo?” It was barely a whisper, but I heard it.
What are you doing to me?
Days passed and I spent half the time chained up, and the other half in the cage. The time that Domenico was gone shrank day by day, especially after the arrival of the Russian girl. She quieted down after Domenico’s threat and subsequent fucking of me.
Still, I heard the whispers, the plans.
Domenico’s possession of my body became daily, and I hated that I came every single time. He was aggressive and dominating, and every thrust of his hips was a shot of pleasure through me. Each press of his teeth into my neck had me convulsing around him. He knew just what to do to get me off, and he was merciless about it. But, in the quiet of my mind, I couldn’t deny he was right—he was my god and he’d masterfully taken control of my body.
It was the most powerful fucking I’d ever had. I hated to even admit to myself how I got wet just looking at him.
The temperature dropped to the point that even the men were complaining. Gas-powered space heaters were brought in. A small one was set up near my cage, and I reveled in the warmth. It was much like sitting in front of a fire. Part of my body remained cold, but overall it was the warmest I’d been in weeks.
And it had been weeks. The pile of petals at the base of the rose amounted to more than were left on the drying flower.
The new girl didn’t have a rose, which I found odd, but not as odd as when I awoke to find her gone.
“Where is she?” I asked. I expected to receive the usual silence, but someone spoke up.
“Sold,” Tito replied, earning a glare from Marco.
Sold. She had no rose and had been sold off in days.
My own holding became more and more mysterious. There was something else at work, something different about my capture.
Did they know who I was? Was it all a power play, a way to break me? No. Domenico had claimed me, which afforded me security because nobody would cross him.
Roman’s eyes were dark when he delivered my food, and he seemed angry.
“Thank you,” I said, as I always did.
His hand shot through the bars and wrapped around my wrist. “You’re not special.”
My heart sped up and my brow furrowed. It was a move I wasn’t used to with him, aggressive with none of his usual gentleness. “What?”
His expression faltered, losing the edge. “To him.”
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant when suddenly he cried out, his hand releasing me.
Domenico stood next to him, hand around Roman’s bicep, digging in.
“You don’t touch what’s mine, Roman. Ever.”
A chill rolled through me as they glared at each other. Roman was being defiant, unwilling to back down
. It was a characteristic I had never seen in him before, and I began to heed Domenico’s warning.
I wasn’t sure how many petals a rose held, but I guessed somewhere between thirty and fifty. More than half the petals were gone, and I began to wonder what would happen when the last petal fell.
A pit formed in my stomach as I looked at the number of men. Something had shifted and Domenico’s crew had either surged in membership, or they were all converging on that building.
Most of them were familiar faces that I’d at least seen before, but out of the more than twenty men around, there were one or two I didn’t recognize.
All day I’d watched, listened, and waited. Even Marco seemed on edge as he sent men out on different jobs. Domenico had been gone for almost the whole day, and I vibrated without him near.
The increase of testosterone had led to a few scuffles, and my anxiety increased as the day progressed. There was a safety I’d begun to feel with Domenico, but when he wasn’t around I felt a darkness stirring.
He arrived late in the afternoon, but if it wasn’t for the scar, I wasn’t sure I would have immediately recognized him. Gone were the jeans and leather jacket. In their stead was a perfectly fitted gray three-piece suit.
A suit that looked deliciously good on him, and I couldn’t help but stare.
He didn’t look happy, and he glared at me as he pulled at his tie. I blinked back, trying to figure out why, and a sinking feeling settled. A glance over to the rose showed the decimated remnants of a once vivid and bright flower.
I wasn’t imagining the shift. It wasn’t an overexaggeration of paranoid thoughts.
Marco tried talking to Domenico, but he seemed to only half listen, his attention focused on me.
A few minutes later he was still in his suit as he pulled me from my cage. “Come on.”
I didn’t pause, didn’t take my time. I was desperate for the security I felt for some reason in his arms. For him to soothe the anxiety that surged through my veins and replace it with the fire only he could.
“Get to fucking work!” he yelled out before dragging me toward the corner room.
I looked back to the group of men. Some dispersed, but just before I lost sight of them, blue eyes locked onto mine.
A shiver rolled down my spine as Roman stared at me, one side of his mouth twisted up.
What was that about?
I bit down on my finger, head back as high-pitched moans slipped from my lips.
The world disappeared. The room long gone. All that was left was the man slamming into me and the pleasure he filled me with. A keening sound left me from the pleasure that spiked from his teeth digging into my shoulder. Another mark to add to the others that peppered my skin.
He gripped my jaw and pulled my mouth to his. His kisses were always soft yet demanding and soul devouring as he took the breath from me.
Loud bangs and yells pulled me from the trance he always put me in. I watched as clarity returned to his eyes, a grumble of anger audible as he glanced over his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he hissed before abruptly pulling out and standing.
I began to admire his mostly naked form when the sounds of fist on flesh filtered in.
He quickly stepped into jeans he pulled from his bag. “Stand,” he commanded as he slipped a shirt on. There was no time to dress myself as he tugged on my arm and pulled me to the wall. My eyes widened when he picked up the shackles that were anchored into the wall and wrapped one around my wrist, then the other. I was left standing there with only a short lead of a few feet.
“Stay,” he said in a low growl before gripping my chin again for a harsh kiss.
It wasn’t my first time in the shackles, but it was my first time naked in them.
The commotion ebbed and flowed, the noise level crescendoing up again, and the anger rose in Domenico. He tossed a pillow my way and pulled on his shirt as he walked out.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” he yelled.
The noise stopped before erupting again.
The testosterone level was dangerously high, and my heart thumped in anxiety. At least they couldn’t see me where I was.
I couldn’t hear much from the other room except the occasional string of words from Domenico when his anger showed through. But the pit formed in my stomach again.
While standing felt good, the lack of movement wasn’t comfortable. Being that it was bound to be a while before he returned, I grabbed the pillow with my toes and brought it closer before sitting on it. The position left my arms hanging in the air and my body exposed.
A chill moved through me, and I hissed when my skin hit the cold plaster.
I couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but my fingers were going numb from the combination of cold and them hanging in the air. Another shiver moved through me, and my teeth began to chatter when Domenico’s voice came from right outside the open doorway.
“Then give them a task. Send them on searches. Half the reason she is the only one is because nobody is doing their damn job. They are sitting there, fucking around, eye-fucking her and not doing shit. There are three times as many people hanging around here, which is gaining attention. Cut down on the crew and send the rest to guard the incoming shipment. Just get them the fuck out of here.”
“How many?” Marco asked.
“Seventy-five percent.”
“That’s a lot, Dom.”
Their voices lowered, and I missed some of what they were saying before I heard a voice that was clearly Marco’s.
“I’ll get it done,” Marco assured.
“Good.”
A shuffle of feet and Domenico appeared in front of me, alone. I watched as the anger rippled through him, transforming into a brutal lust as he stared at me. My heartbeat picked up with each step he took, a combination of turned on and frightened. He tugged at the button and zipper on his jeans, his still-hard cock slipping free, a hiss leaving him.
I moved to stand, but his hand on my shoulder kept me down. His cock jumped, the tip brushing against my lips, leaving a swipe of precum on my lips.
His nostrils flared, jaw tight, his touch gentle as he caressed my cheek before moving down my jaw. The tip of his thumb hooked onto my chin, and I let my mouth drop open.
In all the times he’d fucked me, he’d never had me suck him like he’d threatened that first night. By the look in his eyes he was beyond reason or care, desperate to release the mounting tension inside him.
I slipped my tongue out and brushed it against the deep-red tip before closing my lips around it, getting my first taste of his cum. A low groan left him, growing and morphing with each inch down I moved.
Halfway was all he could take. Too slow, too teasing, and no release.
The move took me by surprise, my eyes popping wide, gagging as he pushed my head down. I wasn’t ready, and he gave me little respite. I pulled at the chains in an attempt to move back just a little, but he held my head in place as he pulled his cock from my mouth, then plunged it back in. When I made it down to the base he held me there, his breath harsh.
I drew in one lungful of air before he plunged back in, thrusting as if it would cure the madness that drove him. Using me as he always did.
All the way, forcing his way down my throat, he held himself there for a beat, a roar leaving him as his cock jumped, firing off straight down into my stomach. He convulsed above me before retreating, drops continuing to leak onto my tongue as I drew in much-needed air.
He stared down at me, both of us breathing hard, but said nothing.
I was curious about what had happened, but I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything. The rare snippets of secrets he told me continued to be obscure and riddle-like.
He tucked himself back away, then released my arms. The muscles burned when released, and I cringed in pain.
Silver eyes never left me as I slowly stood and walked over to where my clothes, or the remnants of my clothes, had fallen when he pulled them from me. I knew the drill.
Back in the cage.
Maybe I’d become adjusted to this semi-life, or maybe I just understood the rules better. Escaping was a dream that I was losing faith in ever happening. I thought maybe I could get help from Roman, but Domenico’s warning rang out whenever Roman did anything for me. Then there was the look he gave me. Just the memory of it sent a shiver down my spine.
It could have been Domenico’s words or me opening my eyes to the charismatic man who seemed to have a growing loyalty within the crew, but I had a feeling Roman was the source of the strife brewing.
In the days that followed, I spent more time out of my cage and chained up close to Domenico. The atmosphere held more tension than usual, even with fewer men.
The rumble beneath the surface was obviously unusual, especially because I’d seen both the fear and reverence for la Bestia. The atmosphere created a buzzing in my veins, an anxiety of what would happen when it came to a head.
Domenico entered the room carrying a box. It was evident by the flex of his muscles that it had some heft. It clanged when he dropped it to the ground near me.
“What’s that?” I asked, but as usual I received no response.
A groan left me when he released my arms from the shackles, but when I stood, he pulled me to a stool and sat me down. He handed me a sandwich and drink that were sitting on top of the box, then stepped to the doorway. It was just a blink that he wasn’t watching, a blink that I was fractionally free, but with a small window and no level of real strength, there was no use even thinking about escape.
Instead, I tried to enjoy my sandwich. At least it was a fruit punch Powerade, my favorite. I savored each sip of sweetness.
He stepped back in, but he wasn’t alone. A man littered with tattoos was in step behind him, a large case in his hand.
I looked between the two men in confusion, watching as the man silently opened the case and began pulling items out. The last was in pieces, but I recognized it immediately.
It was a tattoo machine.
My heart began to pound as he set up a light and plugged it and the machine into the extension cord that the only other light was plugged into.