by M Dauphin
She moans and clamps her mouth shut. Neither of us wants this to be over.
Gently, with my eyes locked on hers and my arms bracing myself on either side of her, I enter her with one push, then stay there while I slam my lips to hers. Fuck, she feels so good. So tight. So warm. This is the second time we've had sex today, but it never gets old. She’s so fucking perfect. Being with her is too fucking good. I want to run my hands over the tattoos. I want to bite her pert nipples. I want all of her, always.
"Fuck, Red, baby," I huff, slamming into her and pulling the end of the rope gently, bringing the two ropes between her legs a little bit closer to her clit.
"Shiiit," she hisses when she realizes what's happening. "How the fuck did you accomplish that?" She pants, grinning at me as I pull the end of the rope that brings the two ropes directly over her clit, an added sensation of feeling it wrap around my dick on the way. "Fuck!" she growls, biting into my shoulder as I fuck her and play the ropes in a rhythm that will give her exactly what she needs.
"Come for me, Red. Come, baby." Pushing into her, over and over, giving the rope the perfect amount of pressure, it's not long before I feel her orgasm building and start to come apart around me.
"Holy sh—" Before I can scream out my orgasm, her lips lock to mine and she groans as I pump my release into her.
So there we lay. Completely satisfied. Tingly toes and numb fingers. Deliriously happy with the one we chose to spend the rest of our life with. By the time I untie her it's after eleven, but I pull her to me and hold her close.
I love this part. Don't get me wrong, I love all the parts, but I love just being with her while we come down from sex. Call me a fucking pansy, but holding my wife is one of the most comforting things. Too many couples run from bed to move on with their lives afterward. Not us. We need this time. It's the entire package that counts. From start to finish, we’re there for each other.
"Your game’s waiting," she mumbles, half in and out of sleep.
I groan and hold her a little tighter. "It's not going anywhere. This is where I'd rather be," I whisper, kissing her head.
***
I jolt awake at the tires hitting the ground.
“Fuck,” I growl, wiping the sleep from my face.
“You needed that,” Tatum says with a worried tone from across the table.
“Mmm,” I grumble and stare out the window, waiting for the plane to slow to a stop before unbuckling and jolting up. “Let’s go,” I blurt. That dream rattled me, and if the table wasn’t in the way Tatum would have seen the chub that I woke up with.
Goddamnit I miss my girl.
“Whoa, man.” Tatum chuckles. “Slow down, we don’t even know where we’re going yet.”
I glare at him and wait for the cabin attendant to give us the go ahead before storming off the plane.
“Car’s over there waiting for us,” Tatum says from behind me. I have one track right now. Find my fucking girl.
I slide into the back seat of the waiting black SUV and pull my laptop out of my bag, immediately linking it to my cell for service, loading the map and waiting for the location services to find the phone again.
Please let it still be on.
“It’s only been about five hours or so since the call was made. I’m sure she’s still fine, Eddie.” He clasps my shoulder but I shrug him off, cursing the slow-as-hell connection.
“Jesus, this part of the world is so fucking underdeveloped,” I grumble, making Tatum chuckle. “Man, how the hell are you so calm right now? She’s here, I fucking feel it, and those assholes that brought her here are very dangerous fucking men.”
“You forget who I am, Eddie. The Savage name isn’t just big in Texas.”
I roll my eyes at him, biting back the snip that it’s his fault all this is happening in the first place, and pray for that red dot to appear.
Gwynn
After fifteen minutes of Zeke and his father bickering back and forth in Spanish, Zeke finally won. His father isn’t happy about it, but after a few quick directions to the driver, we were on our way. Now, here I sit, alone, in pain, and headed to the man’s house who kidnapped me from everything I love. To say I’m scared is an understatement. I’m terrified. The threat before the fight I knew wasn’t for nothing, but I guess I was hoping I would win and he’d be too ecstatic, celebrating with all of his money and forget about me. But the way he’s looking at me right now is making my skin crawl.
Fuck.
It doesn’t help that my entire body feels like it’s on fire. I’m shaking, not able to hold it back because of the pain, and when his hand rests on my knee a tear slips from my eyes. This can’t be happening.
I sniffle and look out the window, ignoring the glares from Zeke across the bench.
“It’s beautiful here, no?”
I watch as the scenery passes by, and even in the dark I see nothing spectacular about this place. I’m sure there’s parts of the city that are filled with amazing architecture, judging from the snips I’ve seen as we’ve been driving during the day, but the part of town we’re heading to right now is nothing to be too happy about.
More like, something to be terrified about.
The people roaming the streets look like no one I want to deal with, even in the presence of the men in this car. Hell, I’d rather be with these men any day if it meant staying off these streets.
“Like what you see?” Zeke scoots closer to me as we sit at the stoplight and wait for it to change. The men outside the car are getting closer and speaking in a language I definitely don’t understand.
Fuck, I’ve never felt so tiny and useless in my entire life.
“Is this where you live?” I whisper, watching a man walk by, eyeing the car, very openly showing the gun tucked into the front of his pants.
Zeke chuckles and his dad cusses from the front seat when one of the gang members slams on the hood.
“Sir?” The driver states, watching the men start to crowd around the car.
“Take us home, Danile,” Zeke’s father states.
“I don’t live here, Gwynn, don’t worry.” Zeke chuckles, then slides back to his side of the car. “But you could.”
My eyes go wide as I stare at him, mouth wide open in disbelief.
“What did I ever do to you to deserve this?” I whisper, a small piece of me full of relief when we turn off the street and get back on the freeway.
“You, personally, never did anything. The man you live with ruined my family, though, so I need to ruin his.” He shrugs, like his words are an everyday occurrence.
“This is so fucking wrong, you know,” I say, spinning as much as I can and glaring out the window.
There’s words exchanged between father and son, but words I will never understand. I’ve noticed if they need to discuss something they don’t want me to know, they switch to Spanish. I think it’s Spanish… I’ve caught words I kind of recognize, but I never did excel in foreign language in school.
After about ten minutes of bickering, we pull in front of a new housing development, bright white walls glow with sconce lighting on the outside, the three-story building beautifully mimics the old Spanish-style housing I’ve seen in pictures and movies before.
It’s breathtaking.
“After you,” Zeke says, opening my door for me.
I move to step out of the car and cringe when the pain that had started to settle comes back, full force.
“Shit,” I hiss, grabbing the side of the open door, attempting to stand on my own without help. Zeke reaches out for me but I swat him away. I don’t need his fucking help.
After a few agonizingly painful breaths, I’m able to control my movements enough to walk to the door, leaning against the wall of the building as Zeke enters a code. It’s bad enough my entire body hurts, but I still haven’t forgotten about the phone currently giving me the worst vagina wedgie I’ve ever had.
Once we make it inside he hits the buttons on the elevator and we stand in s
ilence and wait. The floors are black marble. The walls are stark white. The whole place is black and white and it’s stunning, really. There’s a gold-plated mirror hanging on the wall opposite us and I can finally see myself in bright, non-clouded light for the first time since I’ve been taken.
And holy fuck I look bad.
There’s bruises fading on my facial features, bags under my eyes, and the tattoos on my arms are marred with bruising from earlier fights. Nothing about me is attractive right now; I look downright scary and I’ve never been happier about it.
The elevator dings and I’m escorted inside, not once opening my mouth. I’m feeling all kinds of horrible things right now and I just don’t know how to process them. Am I actually relieved to be here? Kind of, yes. Should I be? Probably not. I’ve never trusted Zeke, and more so after the way he’s been acting around me lately, but I’m so fucking happy not to be with the whores in the whore house… and that makes me feel so godamned guilty. I’m a married fucking woman, what type of bitch am I that I’m happy to be in a house with a single man all because I didn’t want to feel uncomfortable anymore?
Fuck!
When the elevator opens, I’m met with the darkest room I’ve ever walked into. Not dark as in no light, but dark as in the mood of it puts me in a bad place.
“Welcome home,” Zeke whispers in my ear, sending chills through my already-pained body.
I walk forward when he pushes on my lower back, taking the few steps it takes to get off the elevator but no more.
“Well, come on, I’ll show you to your room.” His accent is thick tonight, and the smell in this room makes me want to close my eyes and curl into a ball.
It’s so familiar. It’s…
Fuck, it’s Eddie’s smell.
I need out of here.
I follow him down the hall, each step a reminder of what I’ve been through already tonight. Tonight won’t be a good night for him to take me… to use me as he pleases. No, tonight will be a night of recoup. Maybe a shower. A good night’s sleep in my bed.
My own, real bed.
I sigh audibly when he opens the door and the bright white and red room opens to my viewing. The stark white of everything in here is a complete contrast to the darkness of the living room.
“There’s clothes in the closet for you. A bathroom for your privacy is over in the corner. The windows are all solid and bulletproof, too, so there’s no use trying to leave.” He turns and watches me as I take in the room. “You like it?”
“I don’t fucking understand,” I growl, so fucking confused. “Why?”
“Like I told you in the car, Gwynn, I don’t hate you. It’s… well I’ve actually grown rather fond of you recently.”
“So why don’t you just let me go?” I whisper while I walk over to the oversized king bed and run my fingers over the soft blanket covering it.
“I can’t do that. I won’t.” He clears his throat and walks over to me. “But I’m hoping I can make you happier here… make this… home.”
I glare at him, fists tight at my sides, wanting nothing more than to attack him but the pain I’m dealing with is stopping me.
“Home? This?”
“Si,” he answers in his native tongue and I roll my eyes at his attempt to use the ‘romantic’ language on me.
“The Spanish language does nothing for me, Zeke,” I say, walking over to the window. It overlooks the small downtown area, currently lit up by street lights. “This will never be my home,” I growl, turning to look at him. A sly grin spreads across his features and he nods at me.
“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, Gwynn. Maybe you’ll change your mind when you see how good you have it here. I mean, I’d hate to see you on the streets back in that neighborhood from earlier.”
“Why didn’t you just leave me with the girls at the Hit?” I know I need to let him leave me alone, but there’s so many unanswered questions that don’t make sense right now.
“You want to go back? I’ll call for your submission right now into the program.” He pulls out his phone and raises an eyebrow at me.
I don’t want to go back there, but I don’t want to be here with this man, either. This evil, confusing-as-fuck man that is asking to be fucking dick punched each time he gives me that smug grin. He’s been nothing but horrible these past few weeks, why change now? But… I really don’t want to become one of his whores.
Time to pick the lesser of two evils.
“No. I don’t,” I whisper, hanging my head in shame trying to show him that he’s breaking me so that when I attack he won’t suspect it.
“Good girl,” he purrs, shoving the phone back in his pocket and walking over to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, Gwynn,” he says before shutting the door and engaging the locks.
I sit by the window for what feels like forever. This entire situation is enough to break someone typical.
I’m anything but typical, though. I’m a trained MMA fighter, trainer, and champion. I fucking married the man who hated relationships and turned him into a family-loving goon. I opened my own MMA gym when no one but myself and my husband believed in me. I grew two fucking children in this fucking womb… They picked the wrong fucking girl to take.
I wait and make sure Zeke isn’t coming back in the room before heading to the bathroom to disrobe. As much as I hate the man, he at least has nice taste in design and comfort. The oversized claw-foot tub stands in the corner of the bathroom no bigger than the one at home. The towels all clean and folded, pitch-black of course, while the amenities all keep to the red and white theme of the bedroom.
I slowly slip off the tiny shorts I’ve been in for way too long and pull the phone out before it goes crashing to the floor. Trying not to think how gross it is that I’m about to hold it to my ear, I push the power button for the screen to flash on.
Quickly, I dial Eddie’s number again but before he can answer, the phone dies and I’m left staring at a black screen.
“No,” I hiss, slamming my finger back down on the power button over and over again. “Come on!” I whimper, sliding to the floor clutching the phone, letting the tears finally fucking fall. I finally get a break and think just maybe I’ll be able to tell someone where I am… who has me… but it’s ripped away from me all too quickly.
I let myself cry, because it’s either that or break things and I hurt too bad right now to try to start breaking shit.
I can do this. I know this phone. I know the charger that this phone needs… hell, I got my hands on a fucking cell phone, it shouldn’t be that hard to get my hands on a phone charger.
That’ll be my new plan of attack. Hide this thing until I can get it charged, then call the troops in, in the form of the Savage family and all of their lackeys.
I sigh and shove the phone under the sink, letting it rest on a hidden lip caused by the countertop, then close the cabinet door and look around me. The room is beautiful, and the bath is begging for me.
I roll my eyes and turn on the water, grabbing the bubble bath liquid and squirting a few drops into the water before I start to get undressed the rest of the way.
Slowly.
Each movement brings a pain I have to grit my teeth to get through, but I do because I can’t fucking give up now. I’ve made it this far. I have a family waiting for me. I need to stay strong and get back to them.
As I slide into the bath, I repeat the words I’ve been telling myself since day one.
I’ve been taken.
I’m being held against my will.
I’m with a very dangerous man.
I’m going to kill him the first chance I get.
And then I’m going to set his mother fucking body on fire while the rest of his men are murdered.
Zeke
There’s something to be said about a girl like Gwynn. I never thought I’d find myself falling for someone like her, but when she taunted that man in the ring I felt something I’ve never felt before… Pride. I felt pride for my f
ighter.
And fuck she’s a fighter.
This entire situation is one I wish I never had to do, but her husband ruined shit.
And now revenge is being served.
When I sent him the picture of her after her first fight I was happy… I felt amazing that I was ruining him. Watching him at his house, sleepless nights every night and never finding anything to lead to me, has been pure bliss.
But now he knows.
I got the call during the fight. He knows we have her… he just doesn’t know where.
That alone makes me even happier, you see. Because it’s just like dangling the bait in front of the lion, but never fully allowing the lion to attack… we’re always a step ahead of him. I’ll always know his moves before he does.
I just left Gwynn alone in her room. I’ve fielded close to a hundred texts from members of the family begging me to take her back to the Hit… they know how I get.
I get attached.
Gwynn isn’t someone they want me getting attached to.
I mean… she’s disposable. Last time I got attached to a disposable it ended badly for me and took months to get over her.
This time is different, though. I’ve successfully ruined Eddie’s life temporarily, and taking his wife and making her fall in love with me will put the nail in his coffin. I’m on my way. I saw the way she looked at the room I put her in. Women love material shit, so as long as I keep her happy materialistically, she’ll eventually fall in love with the man that can give her everything she needs. This wasn’t the original plan, but I’m bored of the fight scene and honestly I’ve never killed someone in my entire life. This entire thing is a stretch for me, but just seeing what it’s done to Eddie has me ready to take the next step… and that’s either death, or love.
My father thinks it’s an idiotic idea. “Es estúpido,” he kept shouting over the phone yesterday when I told him my plan. He doesn’t see it as I do. He sees her as someone who would be better off dead. She’s seen too much… she knows too much. If she ever were to get out it’d be the end of us.