by J. L. Beck
I watch as the two men leave the ring and people around start to exchange cash. I see at least three guys calling out to the crowd, taking bets on the next fight like they're auctioning something off. Shortly after that, a big man with an even bigger stomach makes his way to the center of the ring. He grabs a microphone someone hands him.
“Five minutes. That's all you got, ladies and gentlemen. Get those bets in and you could be walking away with a pretty penny tonight.” The man’s slimy voice rubs me the wrong way, and I tighten my hold on Ivan’s hand.
I grit my teeth and breathe through my mouth, feeling a bout of nausea grip me. Something about all of this makes me uneasy, and that uneasiness is only mounting with each passing minute. When they finally call the next fight, the crowd goes crazy, hoots and hollers vibrate through the space.
Then Roman appears, stepping into the right corner of the ring. He's got a smile on his face and a smug look in his eyes. His muscles ripple as he bounces on his feet. At that same moment, another guy comes out, going to the opposite corner of the ring. I stare at Roman, who looks completely relaxed, as if this is just another day at the office for him.
The bell rings and both men walk into the center of the ring with their fists raised. Part of me wants to look away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It’s like watching a car accident take place in front of you.
I watch eagerly as Roman’s opponent throws a few punches but not one of them hits its target. For being such a burly man, Roman moves incredibly fast. He dodges at least five hits before he starts throwing punches himself. I’ve never seen Roman fight, but I have seen him go at the punching bag in the gym and in comparison to that, I feel like he is holding back.
The other guy growls like an animal, his movements becoming more aggressive as he lands punch upon punch against Roman’s face and head. I chew on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from yelling, from telling them to stop. I squeeze Ivan’s large hand in mine impossibly hard, my gaze shooting up to Ivan. When I see the same fear I'm feeling in his eyes, I know I should be scared.
Time seems to drag on as the fight goes on minute after minute, the crowd becoming more and more restless.
For a while, it looks pretty even, then things change as Roman remains standing there in the center of the ring with his hands covering his face, taking one punch after the next. For a moment, I wonder if this is what Roman wants. If he enjoys the pain being inflicted on him. He doesn't seem to care that his opponent is kicking his ass and that scares me. I want to do something, anything. We can’t just stand here and watch him die.
When I turn to Ivan, expecting him to be just as worried, he shocks me by grinning down at me. Either he has lost his damn mind, or he knows something that I don’t.
Confused, I turn my attention back to the fight. Roman’s opponent gets two more punches in before things take a sudden turn.
Without hesitation, Roman starts to throw punches... real punches. He hits his opponent so fast and with such force that I can almost hear the bones crack from across the ring. I cringe, my heart pounding in my chest.
I watch as he continues hitting him, jab after jab, in the lungs, face, head, no spot is unclaimed by Roman. He's like an animal claiming its prize. Nothing stops him or slows his movements, and I watch the darkness consume him. I see blood on his hands; the man is now on the cold hard floor. Roman keeps hitting him, even though the guy is clearly unconscious.
I can’t watch anymore, I can't. Ivan must know this because he pulls me into his chest.
“It’s okay, Kitten. I got you,” he whispers into my ear over the screams of the crowd. I bury my face deeply into Ivan’s shirt, inhaling his unique scent. I may not be watching, but I know Roman is killing that man, beating his head into the concrete.
A short time later, Roman is announced as the winner and the crowd goes wild. Everybody is screaming Roman’s name and cheering him on. As the crowd moves, Ivan and I are jostled around. I look up into the crowd, pulling away from Ivan and see large stacks of money being handed over.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself and my erratic heartbeat. At least it’s over now and Roman is alive. For a second there, I was worried. Just when I get my erratic heartbeat under control, I hear someone screaming a few feet away from us. I furrow my brows in confusion because it doesn’t sound like the other screams around us. This one is filled with terror, not excitement. I look over to see what’s happening when the sound of a gun going off echoes through the basement and the crowd erupts into a frenzy of panic.
Everything happens so fast I can't even digest what is taking place. People are screaming and trying to get away and then more shots are fired, making the blood in my veins turn to ice. I didn’t escape the cell and all those evil men just to die in this place tonight.
Ivan holds my hand impossibly tight as things around us go from frantic to pure chaos. Together, we are pushed away from the ring as a tidal wave of out of control people try to escape. He starts to pull me off to the side and away from the insanity but there are just too many people trying to go the same way. I try to hold on to Ivan’s hand, but someone pumps into my arm. A sharp pain radiates from the limb, and I lose my grip on his hold.
I look around helplessly, the crowd jostling me back and forth as I’m trying to push through. I’m almost at the stairs when someone slams into me from behind, shoving me to the side. In an instant, I lose my footing and fall into the crowd, landing painfully on my knees. The impact is jarring and makes my teeth rattle. I try to push up off the floor but there are just too many people moving around me. Every time I gain an inch, someone pushes me back down, immobilizing me to the floor.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing for Ivan to find me, and hopefully before I’m trampled.
Then, as if my silent prayers are heard, someone grabs me by the arm and pulls me up off the floor. Ivan. Before I know it, strong arms are lifting me up. Instinctively, I throw my arms around his neck and wrap my legs around him, burying my face into the crook of his neck, holding onto him like a monkey.
“Calm down, Kitten, or Ivan is going to get jealous.”
My eyes fly open when I hear Roman’s deep voice next to my ear instead of his brother’s.
With one arm around my waist, he uses the other to push people out of the way, working his way through the crowd and in the direction of the locker room. My chest heaves, oxygen barely entering my lungs as we fight the crowd. I watch as Roman grits his teeth, pushing and shoving, using his strength and body to get us where he wants. Once we reach the entrance to the locker room, he settles me onto my feet. I lean against the wall, my knees damn near buckling beneath me.
“Stay here while I find Ivan and Devin.” Roman looks at me for a moment with something that looks a lot like concern before walking away.
“I got her.” Mac startles me, coming up to my side. “Let me see your arm,” he orders. I don’t know what he is talking about or why he’s asking for my arm until I look down and see rivulets of blood dripping down my arm from a scratch. “Come on, I have a first aid kid in here.”
He leads me into the locker room and while my mind is still reeling from what just occurred, Mac starts cleaning the scratch. Just as he places a band aid over the scratch, the door flies open and a very terrified Ivan bursts in. He gives me a quick once over before taking me into his arms.
“Are you okay?” He presses his nose into my neck. He squeezes me to his chest for a long second, his entire body shaking. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline, or the fear of possibly losing me that has him shaking, but I’m feeling the same thing.
“Yes, thanks to Roman… only a small scratch on my arm,” I squeak, just barely getting the words out. I suck in a precious gulp of oxygen, my hands are shaking, and I feel tears prick my eyes. I came so close to dying again, to losing Ivan again.
“Everybody good?” Roman asks, stepping into the room. “Because the party at my house is still on, which means we need to get fucking going.”
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By the time we leave the locker room and head upstairs, the crowd has cleared out. Ivan has an iron grip on me the whole way to the car and when we get in, he pulls me into his lap instead of letting me sit beside him.
“I’m fine. Really,” I try to assure him, but he never loosens his grip. When we get to Roman’s house, people are already waiting in the front yard for us. Roman gets out of the car and people start cheering and whistling; a few even slap a hand on his back, congratulating him. Roman smiles and opens the front door, allowing everybody to pile into the house. As we walk inside, I see more cars pulling up the driveway and within minutes, a full-blown party is taking place in the living room and slowly spreading throughout the house. Roman seems to be in an unusually good mood, laughing and joking with everyone. I remain seated on Ivan’s lap while he sits on the couch.
Devin walks up to us and hands Ivan a bottle of beer.
“You want one, Violet?” he asks me. I’m not really sure. I’ve never gotten drunk and the last time I tried the whole partying thing, it was anything but good, but last time I wasn’t with Ivan, and I know no one is going to hurt me here. Not with Ivan looking after me, or Roman. I know no one is going to hurt me with them both here.
“Sure, I don’t know what I like though. I’ve never tried anything with alcohol,” I admit shamefully.
“Hold on, I’ve got you.” He walks to the kitchen and returns a moment later, handing me a bottle with a liquid in it that looks the color of beer. “Here.” He hands it to me. “All the girl like this.”
“Thanks.” I look at the bottle in my hand, the label has an apple on it, and it reads hard cider. I take a sip and a sweet, bubbly liquid hits my tongue. It’s different but not in a bad way, more like something I’m not quite used to yet. I take bigger sip the next time, enjoying the sweetness of the liquid and the coolness of it as it slips down my throat.
I remain seated in Ivan’s lap, drinking my drink and watching the rest of the party goers. I go to take another drink and realize the bottle’s empty. I frown, tipping it back against my tongue, but Devin’s already on it. In seconds, he’s got me a second one, and I give him a shy smile, feeling bad that he went all the way into the kitchen to get me another drink. I’m sure if I asked Ivan, he’d had gone, but it just shows how much Devin cares about making me feel welcome in the group.
“Are you enjoying your drinks, Kitten?” Ivan askes as he, too, watches the other party goers.
“They’re good. I’ve never really got drunk before,” I admit with a giggle.
Ivan chuckles. “It’s not really anything fun. You might feel good now, but by morning, you’ll be hating yourself.”
“I hope not,” I whine. “I really like these.” I wave the bottle in front of his face. I’m pretty sure I’m on my third bottle now. I’ve been feeling a little funny since my last one, but a good kind of funny. It feels as if my worries have been lifted off my shoulders.
Without reason, Ivan’s hold on my hips tighten and his finger dig into my skin almost painfully. I turn to look at him and when I see the look on his face, the good mood I saw there just a few minutes ago vanishes. I follow his death stare across the room to Roman, who is snorting some white powder into his nose off the kitchen table.
“I’ll be right back,” Ivan growls and pushes me off his lap and onto the couch. I frown, knowing that there is most likely going to be a fight. I watch him stalk over to Roman, grab him by the arm, and drag him out into the hallway. I can hear Roman’s loud voice booming through the crowd, but I don’t know what he’s saying and honestly, I don’t care.
I sit there by myself for a few minutes, feeling awkward without Ivan with me. All of this is so new to me, I don’t know what I should do. I finish yet another bottle of the delicious beverage, but Devin is nowhere to be seen. I suppose I’ll just go and get myself one then. I move to the couch, but as soon as I’m standing on my feet, I realize that my steps are unsure and a bit wobbly.
Maybe another bottle isn’t such a good idea. The buzz I have right now is good enough for me. Maybe if it wears off a little bit, I’ll have another one. I turn to make my way back to the couch, half leaning against the wall and find myself face to face with some guy who was apparently standing behind me this whole time. A tiny squeal escapes me, and I almost drop the empty bottle to the floor.
Thank goodness my hand-eye coordination is on point even with me drinking. The last thing I need is to get another cut.
“Sorry.” The nameless man holds up his hands. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” I catch my breath. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be directly behind me.” I give him a smile. I cover my mouth with a hand as a hiccup slips past my lips.
Another man comes up to us, slapping the guy I almost ran into on his back. “Hey, buddy, haven't see you in a while.” Then his gaze swings directly to me the moment he notices I’m standing in front of them. “Who’s your friend?” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully. Neither of the men seems harmful and for once, I feel like I can move out of my comfort zone, maybe even make some friends?
No one’s going to hurt me, I repeat to myself, letting the alcohol in my veins calm me.
“We actually just met… I’m Violet,” I tell them and hold out my hand.
“Oliver.” The guy I ran into takes my hand first, shaking it gently. I smile and turn my attention to the second guy. I’m just about to shake his hand when Ivan appears beside me. His gray eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them before, and I even feel a bit taken back by his presence.
“She’s taken,” he growls, dismissing the two men beside me, not even looking at them.
“Ivan.” I scold, as he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder caveman style. His grip is tight, and I grab onto the back of his shirt as he moves us through the house.
“Just like old times, Kitten.” He slaps a hand to my denim-covered ass cheek, making me squeal with pleasure and pain. “Except this time, you’re mine, all fucking mine, and no one can take you away from me. Not Rossi, not his fucking men... not even you could escape me if you tried.”
“You don’t own me,” I respond, feeling my insides turn to mush. My response earns me another hard smack and my pussy throbs. I want him… I want him so badly.
“Oh, but I do, Kitten. I own every single fucking inch of you and if you ever try and leave or escape me, I’ll find you and tie you to our bed.”
I squirm in his hold, realizing we’re moving farther away from the party. Obviously, he wants me just as badly as I want him.
“Show me. Show me that you own me,” I challenge. I want him to lose control, and I want him to let it out on me. I want to feel him in every single pore of my skin. Thinking about how he pushed me down in the hallway and fucked me on the floor from behind, how he dominated my body and made me work for the pleasure he was giving me, has me wiggling in his arms with need. I can feel how wet I am already, and I want to show him, prove to him how much I want and need him.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Kitten. Such a tiny little thing like you couldn’t handle the big beast inside of me.”
“I’m stronger than you think, and I want you,” I whimper as Ivan comes to a stop, opening our bedroom. He walks inside, tosses me on the bed, and slams the door shut behind him, twisting the lock into place. Darkness blankets the room, and then he flicks on the lamp beside the bed.
It emits a soft glow, and before I can take my next breath, Ivan is on me. He rips at my clothing without care, and I do the same, my hands unable to keep up with his. Peeling my jeans down my legs, I’m panting with need once the fabric hits the floor. He’s got me melting into a pool of molten lava, and he hasn’t even really touched me yet.
“Are you strong enough to handle what I want, Kitten? How deep can your claws sink into my skin? Deep enough to draw blood?” He rocks his hardness against me a few times before he unbuttons the button on his jeans.
“I’ve been gentle wit
h you, and I always will be if that’s what you want, but I’ve been holding back and there are things I want to do to you…Very bad things, things that might hurt a little before they give you pleasure. Are you sure you want me to let go?”
My womb pulses, and I feel the wetness between my thighs dripping. Is it possible to come from just words alone? My nipples harden, and I roll my hips against him, showing him that this is exactly what I want.
That I want him to do bad things to me, to use my body for pleasure.
I want him to mark me, to be his completely.
“Yes, please,” I whimper, reaching for him, my fingers sliding across his bare abs and the still healing scar. “Please?”
He smirks, his eyes full of mischief. “Better get used to that, Kitten, because you’re going to be doing a lot of begging tonight.” He leans into me, his lips so close to mine that I can almost taste him, I nip at his bottom lip, feeling an electrical charge in the air.
Something’s changed between us; it’s almost like a power exchange is taken place. I trust Ivan with my heart, my mind, body, and soul, and I know he’d never hurt me. And now I’m giving myself to him completely, giving him all the power.
This is what I want…what I’ve always needed. For my white knight to show me what it’s like feel both pleasure and pain at the same time.
Chapter Twenty
Ivan
Fuck. Her tiny whimpers and pleas set me off. I don’t think I have ever been so hard in my entire life. My sweet little Kitten is sprawled out on the bed in front of me like a sacrificial fucking offering. Her big blue eyes plead with me to give her more and though I’m riding the edge, I wonder if falling may hurt her. I’ve never let go with her. I’ve never just given into the primal need that surfaces inside me when she’s near.