by Esme Devlin
“Megan,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting my ear. Don’t fucking stop I cursed inwardly, letting out a sigh. “Baby, can I do it?”
I opened my eyes, as if awakening from a dream. I bit my lip, staring into his eyes before nodding my answer. It was the wrong time of the month, anyway; I was due any day now. I wanted to feel the very essence of him inside me, soothing my muscles and coating me in warmth. He bent down and kissed my forehead as he pushed himself into me and a soft moan escaped from my lips.
His hands regained their grip on my wrists as he forced my body further into the bed, pounding into me relentlessly. He kissed me. I tried to kiss him back, but he didn’t let me. He fucked me with his mouth, moving my arms above my head so he could pin them easily in one hand; the other spreading around my throat. The pressure increased, both on my airway and between my legs until I struggled to breathe. I didn’t care. I wanted him to take the air from me. I wanted him to take everything.
What little breath escaped came out ragged and I struggled against the restraint trying to get myself off. My heart was hammering in my chest, frustration and pleasure mixed together until I could barely stand it.
“You drive me so fucking crazy, baby,” he whispered, his hand still putting pressure on my throat while his fingers twisted up and rubbed against my lip. “I want to hurt you.”
“Please,” I begged, barely fucking audible as my voice fought against his hand.
“Please?” He slammed his cock into me and I would have screamed if I could have. “Tell. Me. What. You. Want,” he demanded, his voice fucking menacing. I couldn’t. Didn’t he understand that I couldn’t?
He let his hands slip from my neck and arms and took my thighs in his grip, ripping them further apart and pushing them up until they almost hit my shoulders. His balls slapped against me as he ground in further, and I cried out in shock at just how much deeper this was. I would break. He would break me. My legs instinctively thrashed against him but it was fucking useless, I was nothing compared to his strength. I sobbed under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to disassociate myself from it. Trying to find my own pleasure in his twisted desires.
“Look at me,” he breathed.
I opened my eyes but turned my face away. I didn’t want him to see my tears.
“Look at me.”
He grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks together and forcing my head up until I couldn’t look away. His eyes were determined, fixed on me, and a frown set across his beautiful features.
“That’s it, baby. Look at me while I fuck you and know that I fucking own you.”
“Please,” I begged again. I wanted him to stop so I could come. I was so fucking desperate and needy.
“So fucking pretty when you cry for me.”
He slowed down, releasing my legs and crushing me while he bent down. His mouth opened, his warm breath surrounded me, and he licked the tears that had spilled down my cheek while I ground myself against him like a wanton little slut. That’s how he made me feel. Like I was a hole for him to use however he wanted.
Like I was nothing, but at the same time everything he ever wanted.
“Come on my cock, baby,” he whispered. “Milk my cock with your sweet little cunt. Let me fill you up.”
His fingers filled my mouth, stretching it open, and I bit down on them. He bit my shoulder in devious response, the harder I went the harder he did until moans of mercy spilled out of me and slammed onto his hand. All the while I crushed myself against him in delirium, the pressure building inside me until it finally erupted and I did what he told me to do. I held my breath while I came, unable to focus on breathing, or thinking, or anything else but the sparks that were igniting my body. My legs gripped around him as I shuddered, every muscle aching in the sweetest way. He pulled against my grip, fucking me quickly a few more times until he collapsed on me with a sigh. Heat erupted in my core, and I clenched myself against him, desperate for more of this feeling.
The both of us lay still, wrapped around each other for what seemed like an age. My legs sprawled over his thighs and my head settled in the crook of his shoulder. I listened to him breathing while he stroked my hair and drifted off to an easy sleep.
Chapter 22
JAMES
I woke up to a loud thumping on the door and instantly felt like I was a teenager again, fighting the urge to grab my clothes and escape out of the window. Beside me, Megan stirred and then nuzzled in further, wrapping the covers tighter against her body.
“Leave it,” she groaned.
I shifted in bed and turned my body towards her. She was like a little ball of fire, roasting hot to the touch. I’d last about 5 minutes before I passed out from the heat.
“Someone wants to speak to you,” I whispered, brushing a wisp of honey blonde hair from her face.
“Fuck em”
She did this little sexy half-yawn that ended in parted-lips and almost had my cock throbbing. She guarded her sleep like a fucking teenager, and it was kinda cute. I lay there just watching her, until the banging on the door started to ruin my happiness and I was hauling myself out of the bed and into the en-suite.
“You should answer that,” I called, closing the door behind me.
I fiddled about with the chrome knobs— until the temperature got to a level where it wouldn’t fry my balls— and walked into the shower, wondering how the fuck women didn’t scald themselves every time they had one.
Not expecting the situation in the bedroom to have changed much, I emerged from the bathroom still damp and with a towel wrapped around my waist. My face dropped when I saw her sat up in bed, coffee in hand, and my young captive friend sitting next to her.
“Sarah.” I nodded, breaking the silence.
“James.”
“Hows the foot, kiddo?”
“Fine, thank you,” she said lightheartedly, her face breaking into a wee smile “I never thanked you.”
“What for?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
“Uhh, for looking after it. Oh, and the sudoku. And for rescuing us.”
“Sodoku?!” Megan laughed, almost spilling her coffee.
“Hey, it’s actually quite addictive when you get the hang of it!” She defended.
I crossed the room and picked up the bundle of clothes from the floor, thinking I’d hide in the bathroom while they did whatever it was they were doing.
“Do you need clothes?” Sarah piped up. “Jed will probably have something that’ll fit you.”
“Eh… It’s fine, thanks. I have a change in the car.”
Before I made it back to the bathroom, a shadow caught my eye, and I glanced towards the bedroom door that was wide open. Jed.
“Morning,” I said.
Jed nodded, his eyes burning holes into my skull.
“Making yourself at home, I see,” he sniped.
“Nah… Prefer my own. This is all a bit… girly,” I snap back before closing the bathroom door behind me. Fucking childish but I can’t help myself — the man has crushed velvet couches for God’s sake.
The rest of the day went by in a haze of testosterone and anticipation. They introduced me to Megan’s other two brothers, Mark and Elliot. The younger one, Elliot was actually alright. Mark though, I don’t know how Jed kept him on a leash. And he needed to be leashed, both for his own safety and that of others. He looked like he was at his limit all the time, like the slightest thing would set him off in a rage. Just being in the same room as him felt as if you were walking along the edge of a fucking razor.
Mostly, Megan was present but kept her distance. I was fine with that. Today wasn’t a day for talking or for declarations. I’d made it clear to her last night exactly how I felt, and now all that I could do was show her. For that I needed Kimber out of the way. I needed to focus on us and on what we would build together. It felt like this was the first step in making that happen.
When it was time to leave, I stood at the door watching her. My ego wanted her to come to me,
to tell me to be careful, and that she loved me or something like that. I swallowed that feeling as quickly as it came though, and strode across the room towards her, taking her little body into my arms and crushing her to my chest.
For all I knew, this could be suicide. In this job, in this life, there were no guarantees. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she pulled me down into a kiss, her neck straining up to meet me. I pulled back just as quickly as it had started, and she looked at me with longing and confusion in her eyes.
“Later,” I whispered.
“James?”
“Not now. No talking, no nothing. Just I’ll see you later. Be good, baby.”
I placed a single kiss on her forehead and followed her brothers out of the door.
We took two cars, Jed and I in one, and Mark and Elliot in the other.
“I’ll drive,” Jed demeaned, and gestured for me to throw him they key.
“I’ll drive.”
“I know the roads.”
“And I know what cars to look out for, should any trouble arise. I’ll drive. You need to be able to contact those two quickly if anything happens.”
“Fine,” he sighed, throwing the keys over the car towards me and walking around the bonnet.
We drove in silence, Jed mostly looking out the window. What do you even say to a man whose sister you kidnapped, then fucked, then fell in love with? Under normal circumstances I supposed a ‘sorry’ might have been a staring point, but I didn’t feel like I owed him an apology. Not at all. He had caused all this. Davie was just doing the usual stuff; toying with his shipments or fucking up his warehouses. If he’d stopped what he was doing and swore allegiance to Davie that would have been enough, and that was more of an offer than we gave most people.
Jed annoyed him, but in a strange way I think Davie admired him a little. He was ballsy, and Davie had been ballsy too, in order to get where he wanted to be. There was a dislike and a respect there, at the same time. Jed was the one who turned it like this. He lit a spark that could only end one way; that being one of their deaths.
We sped by small villages, the watery low winter sun almost blinding me.
I wondered what would have happened if Davie had never involved me with Megan. He could have easily given that job to someone else, but he chose me. Likely because he trusted me more than anyone else in his entire organisation. It had always been in the back of my mind that I wanted to take over the business, but it was Megan who gave me the push towards it. Would I be doing any of this if it wasn’t for her, or would I have defended Davie to the death? I’d like to say it was difficult for her to turn me, for her to break years of trust and mutual understanding between my former boss and I… but it wasn’t. He’d created this monster, this cold thing, incapable of feeling and ultimately that would be his biggest mistake. How could a monster love the man who made him?
I would feel no remorse in putting the bullet in his head. Christ knows, I’d done it for him enough times. I imagined the only thing I’d feel is relief at the thought of Megan being finally safe. Her face popped into my head, like it did every twenty or so fucking seconds, and I knew that doing what I had to do wouldn’t be difficult. As long as things happened the way I’d intended them to.
We pulled up at Jed’s warehouse when the sun was almost setting, and Kyle was standing waiting for us beside the van that he’d parked in the loading bay.
“What next, boss?” Kyle asked as we approached.
“Paul was meant to collect the shipment, so Paul will report to Davie that we have stolen it,” I replied, pulling my phone out of my pocked and sending Paul the message I’d typed up earlier.
“Jed, take Elliot’s car around the back — in case something fucks up and we need to get away quickly.”
Jed nodded and motioned for Elliot to follow him to the cars while I opened the back of the van.
“You counted the crates when you loaded them?” I asked Kyle.
“Of course. All there. Tested too — as pure as it should be.”
I nodded. Kyle wasn’t daft, but I was on edge. I always relied on my gut and right now something didn’t feel right. My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I swiped to answer, Paul.
“What happened?” I demanded, the second the line connected.
“He bought it. He’s sending men down now.”
“Who? How many?”
“Corky, I think. He didn’t say how many.”
“Alright. You stay with Eva, keep her safe.”
“Aye, she’ll be fine.”
I hung up and caught Jed’s eye as he walked back to the van.
“Corky,” I said.
“That’s good — Corky has been playing both sides of the field for years,” Jed replied.
“Aye, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”
Jed shrugged. “It is what it is. You need to get further up the road and intercede them before they get here.”
I nodded in agreement, gesturing to Kyle to follow me. There was only one road to the warehouse cars could conceivably use — the rest were farm tracks, and I doubted anyone would take that way. Still, I’d studied them until I knew them like the back of my hand. This was Jed’s territory, and while I trusted him to a certain extent, I refused to give him any advantage over me.
I parked the car in a lay-by and Kyle and I watched the road in front of us. It would be at least an hour until they’d be passing, but I wanted to take no chances.
About twenty minutes had passed when Kyle shoved my shoulder and told me to get down. How the fuck he saw them, I still do not know, but the second he pointed them out I noticed them too. Blue lights, flashing in the distance. Still too far away to hear the sirens, but I didn’t need fucking sirens to tell me someone had played us. Davie was changing the rules, just as Jed had. Davie was playing dirty.
I whipped my phone out at double speed and called Jed, who answered before the first ring had even ended.
“It’s fucked. Police everywhere. Get out of there now, take the back road, the one that passes behind Carndean Farm.”
“The shipment?”
“Fuck the shipment!”
Jed hung up, and I threw the phone over to Kyle before turning the car on and three-point turning out of the lay-by. We couldn’t take the main road, the one crawling with police, so I doubled back towards the warehouse, hoping that they wouldn’t have the farm tracks surrounded. At least one of us had to make it back to Megan and Sarah, or fuck only knows what would happen to them.
Chapter 23
MEGAN
My heart was in my throat the second the four men left, and it hadn’t moved from its position since.
Sarah and I tried to keep busy. We polished the counters in the kitchen until they didn’t just gleam in the winter sunlight; they fucking sparkled. We made small talk about nonsense; I think because it scared the both of us to say what was truly on our minds. What if not all of them came back? What if none of them came back? What would we do?
We had no back-up plan, and that worried me. I looked across the kitchen at Sarah, and she stopped what she was doing and stared right back at me. There was an uneasy tension in the air.
Fuck it.
“What if they don’t come back?” I said, swallowing hard.
She leaned the mop against the counter and stood up straight.
“We get out of here. Out of this country. I don’t think there’s anything else we can do.”
I nodded, thinking for a moment.
“We should pack. Just in case…” I added.
“I don’t even have my passport. We would need to go south.”
“Or west — to Ireland. Declan would help, I’m sure,” I said, spinning and marching through the hallway and up the stairs. I could hear Sarah’s footsteps following behind me.
I punched in the numbers for the cupboard in the hall that my brother jokingly called ‘the armory’, and ran my eyes over the half-empty shelves. They’d taken a fuck-tonne with them. Picki
ng out two small handguns, I gave one to Sarah and tucked the other one down the back of my jeans. We continued on to my bedroom, where I grabbed the first large handbag I could find.
I pressed play on the dock and tried to pretend that we were packing for a sleepover, and not our fleeing and subsequent demise.
“There’s a shoebox under my bed,” I said, nodding towards it, “put all the cash at the bottom of that bag.”
Sarah sorted the money while I pulled out a couple of changes of clothes for the both of us. Practical stuff, warm sweaters and long-sleeved tops. If shit hit the fan, and we had to flee, who knew where we would end up.
“Your tablets,” I reminded her.
Realization crossed her face, and she nodded, leaving the room and heading off to her and Jed’s, fetching her iron and whatever else you had to take during early pregnancy.
When she didn’t return awhile later, I paused the music and popped my head around the door, shouting down the hall towards her bedroom.
No reply.
I shouted again.
Silence.
My hand immediately went to my back and my fingers curled around the hard object secured there. Something was wrong; I knew it.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door properly and took a step out of my bedroom.
“Hands where I can see them,” demanded a voice behind me. I didn’t know this voice, and I spun around quickly, my hand still clenched around the gun.
A man had appeared at the end of the hall, tall and dressed entirely in black, with a balaclava covering his face. I could only see his eyes, and there was not a single ounce of mercy or remorse in them.
Killer’s eyes.
My own eyes immediately flew to the rifle poised in his hands. There was absolutely no chance I’d be able to snatch my gun out, aim and fire in the time it would take him to pull the trigger on his.