by J. L. Beck
I give her a quick once over. Her soft shapely legs that I picture wrapped around my waist are on full display, her small body shaking like a leaf either from cold or fear… maybe both. She’s short, shorter than I remember her being, and fragile, so very breakable. My gaze moves over her delicate throat, which bobs as she swallows.
Her heart-shaped face is red, and her green eyes are puffy from crying. That raven hair of hers is a tangled damp mess. Still, she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Beautiful and all-fucking-mine.
“Get in,” I order.
She merely shakes her head. I stare down at her, knowing full well I’ll never be able to hurt her like I’ve hurt others who disobey me, she is the only person who will ever have my mercy. Though there are other ways of disciplining her.
Pinching her chin gently between two fingers, I force her not only to hear the words I’m saying but also for her to see me speak them.
“Do it, or I do it for you, and believe me, you don’t want me to do it.”
Her emerald eyes widen with fear, and she must be able to hear the threat in my voice because her body starts shaking furiously. Pulling away, she reluctantly climbs into the car, sliding across the backseat, going to the spot furthest away. There is ample room between us, and I decide to let her have this small space, giving her a sense of control since I just took most of that away from her. I should probably feel bad about how I ripped her from her father’s hands, uprooted her without warning from the only home she’s ever known.
A good man would feel terrible, but the truth is I’m too selfish to feel any remorse. All I feel is a sense of accomplishment. I’ve waited for a long time, watching as the Romero family struggled to stay afloat.
“Where are we going?” Elena surprises me with her meek voice, and I look over at her. She’s all doe eyes and innocence. Breaking her will be a crushing blow to her father.
“Home.”
She wraps her slender arms around her torso like she is hugging herself before turning away from me again to stare out of the window. Her small body trembles, and I can make out goosebumps on her creamy smooth skin.
“Turn up the heat, Markus.”
“Got it, boss.”
For the rest of the drive home, we sit silently—only the engine’s sound and the occasional sob filling the cab.
By the time we pull to the compound, I’m sweating profusely under my three-piece suit. Markus must have turned up the heat to well over a hundred degrees. As soon as Markus opens the door, I slip out of the car.
The fresh air cools me, and I inhale a harsh breath into my lungs. Turning around, I’m prepared for a fight, or at least a struggle and am pleasantly surprised to find Elena sitting on the edge of the seat waiting to get out.
Maybe this won’t be as hard as I had assumed it would be.
Eyes cast down, she wrings her hands in her lap nervously. Sliding off the seat, her small feet press against the gravel, and I contemplate picking her up to carry her inside when she winces at the contact. I love how fragile she is and how much I know she’ll need me to make it through everything I have in store for her. When I’m done with her, she will rely on me for every single thing she wants or needs.
Obviously, I’m far too trusting because she slips past me like a small mouse. Breaking off into a dead run, she dashes past the car and down the driveway. I’m not worried, though, since there isn’t anywhere for her to go.
She doesn’t make it far before one of my men grabs her, tugging her by the arm a little too roughly. I grit my teeth, my jaw clenching as I bite back the need to tell him to get his fucking hands off of her. Anger zings through me when he tugs her again, and she loses her balance falling onto the ground, scraping her knees and legs in the process.
“Let go of me!” She screams, sobs ripping from her lungs in quick succession as she pulls against Roger’s hold, trying to break free. The strap of her nightgown slips off her shoulder in the process, and she almost flashes a tit at my men.
Fuck no. No one gets to see what is mine.
Walking over to her, I gesture for Roger to let her go, and he does almost as quickly as he grabbed her, retreating two steps back. I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I need to get her inside and put her in some different clothes. My men have seen enough of her already.
Looking down at her exposed legs, I see scratches from where she fell, so I’ll need to make sure she isn’t actually hurt. Reaching down, I grab her by the hips, feeling the heat of her skin beneath my hands and toss her over my shoulder like I did earlier.
A growl forms in my throat as I become aware of how she barely weighs anything.
She doesn’t even fight me and rests motionless on my shoulder as I carry her into the house, through the foyer, and up the stairs to the bedroom we will share. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, my shoes slap against the tile as I walk across the room and deposit her on my bed… our bed. The moment her butt hits the mattress, she looks up and scoots backward until her back is pressed against the headboard.
Big green eyes brim with fear. I could tell her she is safe here, that nothing bad will happen to her. But that would be a lie. She isn’t safe yet, especially not from me.
“Stay here, get comfortable. I’ll be back soon,” I tell her as I slowly walk back toward the door. I’ve got blood to spill before I can tend to my new toy.
Looking at my beautiful prize one last time, I close the door and lock it behind me.
I let the anger that I was swallowing down boil up to the surface as I make my way through the mansion and toward the front door.
Stepping outside, I find Edwardo guarding the porch. He turns to look at me, his hand reaching for his gun before he recognizes it’s me.
“Is Roger still out here?”
“Yes, boss. He is doing a round over the west lawn. Is everything okay?”
“It will be…” I snap before walking off and into the night.
3
Elena
Huddled against the headboard, I watch as the door closes, the last sliver of his face disappearing behind the wood and the lock clicking into place. The sound is only a reminder of how trapped I am here, how I was taken from one cage, and put in another.
At least with my father, I knew where I stood. Or I least I thought I did. I knew what was going to happen each day, and I had some freedoms, not many, but not none. Now, I have nothing. No structure, no freedom, no say in anything… not even over my own body.
My life is no longer my own. I’ve been sold by my father to this evil villainous man.
“She is now yours, do with her as you please.”
My father’s words replay in my head. I can’t believe he did this, sold me to Moretti.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I stare at the door. The room is lavish, manly, and blanketed in grays and dark blues. If the circumstances were different, I might actually be able to appreciate the beauty of it.
After a few minutes of staring at the door, I move off the bed to search for some type of way out of this room.
Walking to the first door I find, I discover an entire closet filled with clothing. I look down at my partially ripped nightgown. Who knew when I put this thing on tonight that it would be the last thing I would have from my old life?
I feel exposed and vulnerable in nothing but this, so I pull it off altogether and throw it on the ground. Quickly, I grab one of the shirts off a hanger.
I’m not sure if he is going to be mad at me for taking his stuff. Will he hurt me if I do? Punish me? Deciding it is worth the risk, I pull it on over my head and let it drift down before shoving my arms through the sleeves. The shirt is more like a dress, and the hem comes to rest against my bruised knees. A shiver snakes down my spine at the size difference between us. This man could easily hurt me, snap my neck, or take whatever he wants. My lungs burn, and I realize I’m not actually breathing.
Calm down. Everything is going to be okay. You can do this, Elena.
Grabbing the collar, I brin
g it to my nose and inhale deeply, the smell of cotton and soap tickling my nostrils. I do this a couple more times until the burn in my lungs eases.
Walking out of the closet, I go to the next door, knowing it’s a bathroom before I even open it. It’s clean and organized, but that doesn’t make me want to stay here. No matter how lavish this place is, no matter how much he offers me, nothing will ever make me want to stay with him. Then again, who’s to say he will offer me anything. He’s paid ten million dollars for me, surely, it’s me that will have to offer him something.
I curl my hand into a fist; anger and sadness festering like a cancer deep in my gut. I have to get out of here. Going to the door that I know is my only exit, I grab the brass knob, not caring that it’s most likely a dead end. I heard the lock click into place. There might not be any escaping this room right now, but that isn’t going to stop me from trying.
Taking the chance anyway, I turn the knob and push against the wood as hard as I can. Like I assumed, the door doesn’t move, not even an inch. A sob lurches from my throat, and I place my cheek against the cold wood, hoping to maybe hear something. Not sure what I’m listening for, but the unknown surrounding me is worse than knowing what’s going to happen. If I knew, then at least I could mentally prepare myself for it.
When my legs grow heavy, I walk over to the single window in the room and sit down on the floor below it. It’s as close to escaping as I’m going to get. From here, I can still see the bedroom door, so I can watch to see when he returns. There is no way in hell I’m going to lie down in that bed like a freaking offering.
The darkness outside calls to me, and I twist around and stare up at the stars that hang high in the sky, moving to the glowing moon until my eyes start to grow heavy, and I find myself leaning against the wall, exhaustion sinking its claws into me. Drifting in and out of sleep, I find myself waking at every tiny noise.
My eyes pop open, and my back goes ramrod straight when I hear the lock on the door disengage. Blood rushes in my ears, my heart feeling as if it’s being squeezed between two hands. As soon as Julian enters the room, I push to my feet.
I don’t want to be on the floor, feeling even smaller and more vulnerable than I am. My throat seems to close up, and a deep-rooted terror explodes within me when he turns toward me, and I see the red splotches of blood on his white button shirt, hands, and neck.
I can’t be sure, but I don’t think any of the blood is his. The hungry look in his eyes steals the air from my lungs, and I wish the floor would swallow me whole.
He smirks at me. “You waited up for me? How sweet of you.”
Turning his back to me, he locks the door and stashes the key back in his pocket before heading to the nightstand and setting a bottle of water on it.
Without another word, he walks into the bathroom. He doesn’t close the door all the way, leaving it propped open a few inches. The sound of the shower fills the room, and a moment later, steam starts to come into the space.
Exhaustion weighs me down like a heavy blanket, and I slump back down to the floor. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I pull them up to my chest, wishing I could make myself small enough to disappear.
It takes a lot out of me to keep my eyes open. I’m so tired I just want to go to sleep, but I know that would be too good to be true. I highly doubt he bought me, took me from my home, and brought me to his bedroom for a good night’s sleep.
I never thought this would be how I’d lose my virginity. Arranged marriages are normal in our family, so I saw it coming. I had always been aware of the fact that I wasn’t going to have a choice in who I would marry, but I was sure that my father would choose a good man for me. Someone who wouldn’t hurt me. Someone who’d court me, who I would meet first and have dinner with, not someone who comes and tears me from my home in the middle of the night.
I didn’t expect love, but I did expect safety. I realize now how naive I’ve been.
Resting my head on my knees, I listen to the shower spray, letting it calm my nerves a little. The sound reminds me of heavy rainfall, and I happen to like the rain. I like how it feels on my skin, how it smells, and how it sounds as it pelts against the rooftop and windows.
I’m so disoriented and exhausted that I don’t realize I’ve dozed off again until I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder. My eyes fly open, and I find my captor’s large body looming over me. The smell of soap hits me, and as I trail my gaze up his body, I find that he’s naked except for a pair of boxers.
“Get on the bed,” he orders gruffly.
“No. I’d rather sleep on the floor.”
“I didn’t ask where you wanted to sleep. I said to get on the bed. I’m not asking.”
When I don’t move right away, he grunts annoyingly and leans down, ready to pick me up. As soon as his hands touch me, I lose it. I can’t let this happen without a fight. I just can’t. It’s not in me. I won’t be a victim. His hands reach for me again, and I start swinging my arms wildly, kicking out my legs, and flailing my body. I do anything I can to fight him off.
As if I’m nothing more than an annoyance to him, he grabs my upper arms and pulls me to my feet, ignoring my kicks to his legs. In two large strides, he pulls me to the bed and pushes me on the mattress.
In the next instant, he is on me. My chest heaves, terror rippling through me as his much larger body comes down on mine, trapping me against the mattress. Even with him holding himself up with one arm, he is so heavy that I can barely breathe. Placing both hands against his chest, I push with all my might, but he doesn’t move an inch.
The terror grows ten-fold, and I find myself spiraling out of control. Before I know what I’m doing, I lash out at him, sinking my nails into the side of his face, dragging my hand down, scratching across his face and neck in a frenzy.
“Fuck,” he growls, and snatches my wrists, pinning them above my head. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m trapped and at the mercy of this horrible man.
Blinking the tears away, I look up at his face, and my eyes go wide with shock. Multiple large scratches are marring his skin. Some of them so deep, blood pools on top of the skin.
I did that. I hurt him.
I look from the gashes and into his eyes, the pale blue is almost gone, his pupils so dilated that his eyes seem black. His whole body vibrates, and there is a distinct vein popping out on this forehead. He is angry, very, very angry. And I’m about to feel that anger.
The only thing I can do now is hope that I make it out of here alive.
4
Julian
I can’t believe she scratched me. Like an angry little kitten, she showed me her claws. She is a fighter, and I like it. I like how she stands up to me even when she is scared shitless like I know she is right now. She might be frightened, but her instincts still tell her to fight, and that fight is exactly what I need.
Her slim body is shaking beneath me. Her chest rising and falling so rapidly, I think she might be hyperventilating. Leaning down, I let my face hover a few inches above hers. Close enough for me to feel her breath on my skin and for me to inhale her scent into my lungs. Coconut and something exotic, like a tropical island. It’s intoxicating.
Her emerald green eyes bleed into mine, an ocean of emotions reflecting back at me. She’s vulnerable, so delicate, but she didn’t act that way. Not until now. Her eyes fall shut in defeat, and she turns her head away from me. I lean down further and let my lips descend on her exposed neck. I can feel the blood rushing through her veins beneath her silky skin as I place a few open mouth kisses along her throat. I want to taste her, devour her, but I can’t, won’t. Not yet, at least.
Her body stiffens, and she makes small whimpering sounds, her eyes squeezing tight. I place one last kiss on her jawline before I shift off of her body. All the blood in my body has drained into my cock, the rod so hard it hurts to even move. I want to fuck her, sink deep into her virgin pussy, and send the bloody sheets to her father, and I will… but not tonight.
&nb
sp; “Drink the water I brought you and then go to sleep.”
Her eyes fly open, and she turns her head to look at me. Her dark brows pull together in confusion. She thinks I’m lying. She probably thinks I’m going to hurt her, take from her, and even though I could, I won’t. Not like this anyway. I want her to want me, to need me, and depend on me. That won’t happen if I hurt her tonight.
“Drink.” I motion to the water bottle on the nightstand.
She scoots over and reaches for the bottle. Good girl. I watch her unscrew the cap and take a few large sips before setting the bottle back where it was before.
“Now lie down and go to sleep.”
She gives me a questioning look but does as she’s told. It isn’t out of trust but mere instruction because I haven’t harmed her, she’s decided not to put up any more of a fight.
Resting her head on the pillow, I grab the blanket and pull it up and over us as I settle down next to her. I leave a few inches between our bodies on purpose, allowing her a tiny bit of space. That’s all the space she is going to get though. She will sleep in my bed every night, even if I’ll make sure of it.
Watching her out of the corner of my eye, I can tell she is trying to keep her eyes open, but they keep fluttering closed. Her strength is refreshing, but even as she struggles, exhaustion soon gets the better of her.
Of course, the sleeping meds I put in her water might have helped as well. I grabbed the water and pills as a precaution because I wasn’t sure if she would be asleep when I got into the room. I want to be able to inspect her from head to toe, and tent to any wounds without her fighting me.
Staring at her, I watch as her breaths even out, and the worry eases from her features.
A few minutes later, she is completely out. Reaching across the space, I touch her face, tracing my fingers along her high cheekbones and my thumb over her plump lips.
Yeah, she won’t wake up until tomorrow.