by Abbi Cook
Her response tells me my little one enjoys things a little rougher. Tugging my hair, she holds me to her and rocks her hips back and forward, riding my cock for all she’s got. I sink my teeth into her tender flesh again, making her moan even louder now, and I know it won’t be long before I hear what I’ve been waiting for.
I let her nipple pop out of my mouth and move to the other one, pinching it hard before I suck it deeply into my mouth. Sophie pulls hard on my hair and squeals again, and then I bite down.
“Oh, my God! Oh…King…harder!”
My hands slide down to her hips and squeeze her skin, forcing her to ride me as fast as she can. My cock slams into her pussy as my teeth nip hard on her tits, and the combination makes her cunt nearly strangle my shaft inside her.
And then, she explodes, just like I wanted and screams as her release tears through her. “King, oh fuck! Don’t stop!”
There’s literally no better feeling than hearing a woman scream your name at the moment she comes all over your cock.
Sophie collapses on top of me, landing on my chest. Pain radiates through my torso, but a second later, I come inside her, pushing everything bad away for at least a few moments.
As much as I don’t want to, I gently lift her off me to ease the pressure on my busted ribs. She looks down at me with confusion in her eyes, and then they grow wide when she realizes what just happened.
“Oh, King! I’m so sorry. I forgot about your ribs,” she says as she quickly rolls off my hips onto the bed beside me.
“I’m okay. I just can’t handle anything more on me right now.”
We lay there silently for a few minutes as I try to coax some air in and out of my lungs, and even hurting like someone used me as a punching bag, it’s the most relaxed I’ve been in longer than I can even remember. Next to me, Sophie watches as I struggle for that breath.
Gently touching my arm, she says, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to crush you like that.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her use of the word crush. Looking over at her, I smile. “You’re a little thing, so it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
“You say that all the time. Are you really fine?”
Without a thought to lie, I shake my head. “My ribs are fucking killing me, if I’m being honest.”
She gives my arm a sympathetic squeeze and then shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. I want to know if you’re really fine with all of this.”
All of this. She has no idea what that means, and I can’t tell her. My existence is full of secrets and falsehoods, and not just the ones that relate to her.
So I lie, like I do to everyone around me.
“You mean doing what I do? I’m fine with it.”
Her dark eyes open wide, like she can’t believe that. “Really? Hurting others and working for a man like your boss?”
“Some men are bad men. In fact, I’d wager that most men are bad men. You should probably keep that in mind.”
My answer silences her, so I figure I’ll turn the tables and get her to talk about her life. “I suspect we should be hearing from your uncle any time now. Are you two close?”
It’s a serious question, but she reacts with a big smile that lights up her face and makes her look more beautiful than I’ve seen her yet. A tiny laugh escapes her, and she shakes her head as she answers, “That moron Tap couldn’t have grabbed anyone less likely to get my Uncle Victor’s attention. My father and my uncle barely speak. He never approved of what he did with his life, so my father stopped talking to him when I was a little girl. I doubt my family even bothered to tell my Uncle Victor I’m missing.”
Even though it hurts to laugh, I can’t stifle a chuckle at how stupid that asshole was to choose Sophie. He thought he was going to strike some huge blow at her uncle’s organization. What a fucking idiot.
That Sophie’s father never liked what his brother did for a living makes me think he’d hate to see his daughter lying there naked in bed with the likes of me. It wouldn’t matter what my motives are or how well I’d tried to treat her and keep her from harm.
I didn’t lie to her when I said I was a bad man. I have no choice. This is who I am.
Chapter Sixteen
Sophie
“What did you do before you became a bad man?” I ask, needing to know the man who takes care of me is more than just a villain.
King shakes his head and shrugs. “Nothing. I guess I was a bad kid who grew up to be a bad man. I don’t know why you have such a hard time believing that. Was your uncle something before he became a bad man?”
I don’t have an answer for that. My Uncle Victor last appeared in my life at my third birthday party. I barely have any recollection of it, but from the pictures I’ve seen of that day, he’d become that bad man King talks of by then. There I sat at a picnic table in my backyard blowing out the candles on my birthday cake in my frilly pink dress with a big white bow in my hair and my mother standing beside me smiling in that stunning way she always did when she was truly happy. And behind us a few feet away, my father and his brother stood glaring at one another, my father pointing his finger in my uncle’s face, and my Uncle Victor staring back with hate in his eyes.
“I don’t think people are born bad, King. You had to be something else before you took this job,” I say, more curious now than before.
His dark eyes look flat, not like when we’re together and every time I look into them I can’t help but get lost in them. Now he seems so different from that man.
“You want me to be something honorable, but other than taking you off Tap and trying to make sure you eat and have somewhere to sleep, there’s no honor inside me.”
Why he insists on downplaying the good he’s shown me I don’t know, but I shake my head, not buying this bad guy thing anymore. “So you’re saying you and Tap are pretty much the same? How can you expect me to believe that?”
I expect my mention of Tap to upset him like it usually does, but this time, he rolls his eyes and smiles. “He’s an asshole, so no, we aren’t the same. He’s also a moron, like you said, so again, not the same at all. His version of bad fucks things up. Mine gets things done.”
Watching him speak, I can’t help but like to see him light like this, so I joke, “Bad man. Is this what you put on your tax returns for the IRS? Like I had to say I was a student last year. Do you write in bad man or is there a more technical term for what your job is?”
My question makes his mouth drop open for a few seconds. “You’re funny, Sophie.”
“I get my sense of humor from my mother. I also got my nursing skills from her, too,” I say proudly.
Suddenly, I miss her and my family, the life I had, more than I can handle. I don’t know what makes it hurt so much now, but I begin to tear up just thinking how worried they must be about me.
Maybe if King would let me call them or if he could get a message to them that I’m okay. He wouldn’t have to tell anyone where I am. Just that I’m alive and miss them.
“My family is probably worried sick about me, King. If only I could call them so they could hear my voice and know I’m okay. Can I call them, please?”
He shoots down my request before the words are out of my mouth, shaking his head and frowning. “No. It can’t happen.”
Just hearing those words and knowing how much my mother and father must be hurting not knowing if I’m alive or dead crushes me. Why did he dismiss that so quickly?
“Their hearts are breaking, King. They think their daughter is dead. I’ve been missing for a week now. Just something to let them know I’m okay. You promised you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Now all I want you to do is let me tell them I’m still alive and safe.”
“I’m sorry, Sophie. You can’t.”
“What if you somehow sent them a message? Could you do that? It doesn’t have to be anything long or involved, and you wouldn’t have to show your face. Just a slip of paper stuck in their mailbox that would tell them their daughter is s
till alive. That’s all I’m asking for, King. Please.”
He closes his eyes, and I expect him to refuse me yet again, but finally after nearly a minute of waiting for him to say something, he looks at me and that sparkle appears in his eyes again. “Give me the address before I leave tomorrow morning. I’ll see what I can do.”
My heart leaps at his words! Just knowing my family will know I’m okay and that they don’t have to worry about me being dead in a ditch somewhere makes me happier than I ever imagined I’d be in this place.
Inching over toward him, I kiss him softly. “Thank you, King. See, I knew you weren’t just a bad man.”
“Not a word about this to anyone. Understand me?” he says with such intensity in his voice that it frightens me. “No one can ever know, Sophie.”
I press my face into the space between his jaw and his shoulder and sigh against his warm skin. “No one will know. I promise. No one will ever know you did this for me.”
As much as he claims he’s a bad man, I see hints of goodness in him. I’m no fool, though. I know who he has to be in this place. He has a role to play. But under that façade of cruelty is something kinder.
King stops at the front door and turns around to look at me seated on the couch. “I’ll be back later.”
“Thank you for taking that to my parents. It means the world to me.”
He looks like he wants to say something else, but he turns and leaves, locking the door from the outside as he always does. We spent the past day together in bed, sometimes talking and other times fucking, and now we have to return to what we’ve always been.
Captor and captive.
Not that either role fits us well anymore. As much as he wants me to believe he’s that bad man he claims he is, I’ve seen glimmers of sweetness from him that prove otherwise. The very fact that he’s willing to get a message to my parents to let them know I’m okay shows that.
And even though I am locked in this apartment while he’s gone during the day, when we’re together in this place, I’m as free as I’ve ever been in life, except for the fact that I can’t leave. He doesn’t hurt me, I’m fed, and I even get to sleep in his bed.
But whatever we may want to feel about this, we’re both trapped in some way in this world. He may get to move around more than I do and have more freedom, but he must do what his boss tells him to do and be that bad man he’s so sure he is.
I think of all these things as I shower off the day I spent in bed with him. From somewhere I didn’t know still existed in me, I feel guilt bubble up and make me question if I should do as I swore I would after that morning and kill him in his sleep. I hated him then.
The natural question after I admit that is why don’t I hate him now? Because I don’t. I’m not sure I could, to be honest.
That fact makes me stop what I’m doing, and I stand perfectly still under the water as it rolls down over my head and makes me clean again. As much as I should hate him, or at least should want to hate him, I don’t hate King. Does that make me some pathetic creature, or worse, does it mean I’ve deluded myself into thinking any of this is normal or okay?
I don’t know the answers to these questions. If someone asked me how I’d behave in a situation like this before that Tap bastard grabbed me off my street, I probably would have proudly tilted my chin up and pronounced I’d fight tooth and nail, savagely doing everything to find a way to escape.
The truth turns out to be far different. I’ve never given up believing I’ll get away from this place. With or without King’s help, I will. I believe that in my very marrow. But until I do, I’m stuck here, held hostage in a place filled with vicious creatures who have no problem going after one another like wild animals and who would treat me just as badly, if not worse.
Someone stronger than I am might not have given in to King. I think I might have believed I could be that kind of woman until this. Again, the truth is very different.
I know better than to lie to myself about him, though. He may well be that bad man he says he is. Or maybe he’s the man who does sweet things like feed me hamburgers and fries and let me sleep in his bed.
Perhaps the truth is neither one of us is who we thought we’d be before we were thrown into these circumstances. I can’t say. All I know is he’s promised to keep me safe, and as much as I wanted to hate him after that morning in his boss’s office, he has.
And because of him, I’m still alive and my family will soon know I’m okay. They won’t have to live each day wondering if that’s the day I’ll be found dead. For that and many other reasons, I don’t hate King.
I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Cleared of steam since I stayed in there until the water ran cold, it shows me the reflection of a woman who’s been without makeup for a week.
Since I began wearing makeup at thirteen, I’ve never been without it for that long. Even that night when I went out for a run, I had makeup on my face.
But now as I stare at the woman looking back at me, I see someone I barely notice. Natural Sophie seems bland, like a washed-out version of a woman who’s been called beautiful before by men and women. Her eyes don’t pop without shadow, and her cheekbones don’t impress without highlighter and contouring. Her lips don’t seduce without a sexy red shade or glossiness that makes a man want to kiss them.
I don’t know this me.
My eyes scan around my head and I wince at how my hair looks after a week without a dryer and straightener. Smiling, I realize I am what every boyfriend has ever called me in the middle of a heated argument.
“You are high maintenance, Sophie,” I say to my reflection, chuckling at how stunning this is to me.
A sound like the front door opening tears me from my embarrassment of realizing what I’ve been all these years, so I quickly smooth my hair from my forehead and screw a smile onto my face. Not that King hasn’t seen me looking much worse, but old habits are hard to shake.
The bathroom door flies open, startling me, and before I know it, Tap comes storming in. Stunned and terrified, I try to scream but nothing comes out at first. His big, round eyes flash pure rage, and he grabs my arm, squeezing his fingers hard into my skin.
“Let go of me!” I scream, finally able to get my voice to work. “King! King, help!”
“He can’t help you this time, bitch!” Tap barks before yanking me toward the doorway.
“You’re hurting me! Let go of me!” I scream as loudly as I can so anyone nearby can hear me. “King! Tap’s got me! Help! Someone help!”
From out of nowhere, Tap’s fist hits my face, and everything turns to black.
My eyes slowly open, but all I see is darkness. Unsure of where I am or what’s happened to me, I lift my right hand to touch my cheek to relieve some of the pain there and feel a metal cuff around my wrist. Raising my left hand, I feel the same cold metal press against my skin.
Wide awake now, I wiggle my legs and find no cuffs or chains attached to them. I lift my arms to my sides again and guess the chains are about three feet long. They’re attached to the floor, so I can’t stand.
The ground beneath me feels cool against my skin. Concrete, I guess.
That fucking Tap took me from King and brought me here, chaining me up like some kind of wild animal. Then a horrible thought crosses my mind. Did King give me to him for some reason?
No. He wouldn’t do that. I can’t believe he’d do that after promising me he’d protect me.
Then a second terrifying thought comes to me. Did his boss find out he sent my family a message to tell them I’m okay and King’s being punished by Tap taking me? Or worse, did his boss kill him for betraying him with that note?
Tears well in my eyes as all my hope from the past week disappears in the darkness around me. The only person protecting me is nowhere to be found. I’m alone, chained to a concrete floor in a foreign place. I don’t even know if I’m on the estate anymore. Does
King even know I’m gone?
Pulling my arms into my sides, I curl up on the hard concrete and let the tears come. I want to scream, but I have no fight left in me. I have nothing left in me now.
That message King was supposed to leave for my parents has turned out to be a lie. I’m not okay, and I’m afraid I’m never going to be okay again.
Worst of all, I’m afraid the man who has me now is going to be the one who ends my life.
Footsteps coming down the stairs make my mind go blank. One step. Another. A third and a fourth. Then silence.
“Ready to play, bitch?”
Every inch of my body shakes in terror, and Tap takes the final step onto the basement floor. I swivel my head left and right to sense where he is and anticipate where his fist will come from. The last time it came from my left side. Will it be the same this time?
“You didn’t answer me,” he says angrily. “Ready to play? Because this time I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before in your life.”
I turn toward the right and feel his hot breath on the top of my head. My legs are free, so I kick them out to hit him, but a second later, he sits down hard on my thighs, forcing my calves to press against the concrete beneath me.
“You think you can kick me, bitch? No wonder that asshole likes you so much. He’s stupid too.”
“Please don’t do this,” I beg, knowing I’m wasting my breath with this man. There is no kindness in him.
“Oh, I’m going to do this and from today on, everyone will know what you are, fucking cunt,” he snaps, spitting at me as he speaks.
I feel the first press of the point of his knife against my forearm and freak out, flailing my arms as much as my chains let me. I catch my fingernails on his skin and claw as viciously as I can.
“Fucking bitch!” he bellows and then slams his fist into my eye.
My cries explode into the darkness around me when he drags his blade over my skin. Each cut stings more than the last, but by the time he finishes with my right arm, I feel nothing but blood dripping off me.