My mind itches to run back downstairs to follow this new lead, but I opt for rest instead. Turning the lights off, I prowl through the darkness, stepping out of my sweats along the way. I slide under the covers and like a heat-seeking missile, I find my target. I pin her small body beneath mine, forcefully spreading her thighs apart to make room for me. I’m enjoying the fuck out of her whimper when I rub my erection, that’s barely covered in my boxers, against her pussy.
“Are you warm now?” I growl, inhaling her sweet scent.
“Y-Yes.”
I expect her to fight or cry, but she does nothing but breathe heavily beneath me. Once I’m certain she’s getting close to climaxing, I slide off her and roll onto my back.
“Go to sleep now, Tesoro. If you’re a good girl tomorrow and continue to help me on my quest for answers, I’ll give you a shirt to wear.” I turn my back on her. “But so help me if you sneak out of this bed and betray me, I won’t think twice about fucking you up like I did Bo. My patience is awfully thin tonight.”
I’m almost asleep when I hear the barest whisper. “Goodnight, Saint.”
CHAPTER SIX
Melody
I wake to a startling warmth at my back. For a few blissful seconds, I bask in it, until realization hits, and I remember where I am, how I got here, and what exactly that warmth is behind me. I stiffen, my stomach turning, as images from the day before play out in my mind.
Panic.
Rough hands.
Yelling.
A deafening bang.
Blood spatter
Warmth.
I glance down at my hands that are still lying flat on the bedsheets and my body wracks with a shiver as I recall the way the sticky crimson felt on my skin. The metallic tang that hung in the air, singeing my nostrils. It wasn’t like it was in the movies. This was real. Death was horrifying.
Yesterday was a nightmare, one I have no desire to repeat any time soon. I thought for sure I was going to be assaulted by one of Saint’s men. I pause mid-thought, running his name over my tongue.
Saint.
It’s incredibly different, yet oddly, it suits him.
He’s nothing like a Saint, obviously, but when I think about this frightening man, I can’t imagine him wearing any other name. He’s a dichotomy. A walking talking contradiction.
Peeling my eyes open, I glance around his room. The décor is masculine and sparse, though still homey compared to my cold, empty room. His is warm and smells like him. I’m happy that I’m here rather than in the other room, where the air is no longer blasting at an arctic temperature.
I truly believed I was going to die in there.
Alone.
In an ice box.
I didn’t understand why he was doing it. Freezing me out. What was he getting out of that?
My misery.
My humiliation.
Breaking every vital part of me down so I’ll give into him that easily. That’s what he was getting out of doing this to me.
It made sense to me now. Hell, if we had the same morals, I might even be impressed.
I’m not.
I glance around his room again. Soft light filters in through the curtains, and my heart screeches to a halt when I spot his gun still sitting on the dresser, in the same place he left it the night before. My mouth grows uncomfortably dry, and I lick my lips, toying with asinine ideas.
Sure, I can try to slip out of bed without waking him and grab for it, but something tells me he’d snap my neck before I ever got that far. Everything he does is a ruse, and this, it’s just another one of his tests.
Instead of risking it, I lay there, his tan, intricately tattooed arm slung around my body, holding me captive against his warmth. I try not to think of all the things this man is capable of. What those hands are so obviously capable of. Instead I think about my father and his role in all of this.
Why did Saint suddenly want so much information on my father? What was Daddy hiding? There was still a miniscule part of me who wanted to protect him from Saint’s wrath and whatever evil vendetta he was acting out, but the other part? The part that was cast aside so easily and given to this vicious man? That part of me wants to hurt him. I want to watch him burn. And so what if I’m the reason for his demise?
I’m doing exactly what he tried to do.
I’m saving myself. Everyone else be damned.
“Good, you’re awake.”
My breath catches, and my heart stumbles at the sound of his raspy voice floating near my ear. My body remains stiff as a board, and I will my heart to slow its incessant pounding. Saint’s grip around my body tightens, and he rolls me over onto my back, his muscular form hovering above me.
In this position, it’s hard not to admire his ruggedly handsome features. How can a man, as beautiful as he is, be capable of such evil and despicable acts? I search his gaze, sifting through the dark depths, trying to find answers. It’s an impossible task. He’s perfected the art of keeping his secrets close, his eyes giving nothing away.
“Now that you’ve had a whole night to think about your father’s affairs, we’re going to try something different this morning. Another way to get the answers I need, while training you on what I like.”
A crease forms between my brows and I frown up at him, not following. Slowly, like gasoline on a fire, a smirk spreads across his handsome face. It has fear skating down my spine. My breath catches, eyes glued to his, as he makes his way down my body. The muscles in his arms bulge, jumping with each slow, predatorial movement.
That frown I’m wearing and the confusion I feel only worsen when he rests near my feet, close to the foot of the bed. When I least expect it, he encloses his rough palm around my ankles and yanks my body around, toward the edge of the bed.
A surprised yelp rips from my chest as he positions me with my head hanging off the side of the bed, and I’m left staring up at him, upside down. All the blood rushes to my head, and my pulse pounds wildly. The staccato is deafening.
Saint positions himself before me, his thick thighs nearly straddling my face. He stares down at me with heat burning his gaze. Reaching out, he gently cups the side of my face, tracing my jawline with the pads of his fingers.
“Now, Tesoro, you’re going to take me in your pretty little mouth. All of me. I want you to show me what you can do with these plump cherry lips.” He roughly swipes his thumb across my bottom lip, and I try to ignore the zing of electricity that shoots straight to my core. “I’m going to ask you questions, and if I don’t like the answers you provide, it’s going to get very rough and very hard for you to breathe, understand?”
When I don’t respond, his hand shoots out and wraps around my throat in a painful vise. All it would take is a little more pressure and he’d crush my windpipe. “And if you even think about biting me, I will snap your fucking neck. Nod if you understand.”
I nod jerkily in response, his form swimming before me from lack of oxygen. He lets go, while simultaneously tapping my lips, telling me to open. I suck in a lungful of air, watching as he frees himself from the confines of his black boxers. My eyes widen and my heart pounds against my chest, doing its best to break free. Warmth pools in my stomach as I watch him stroke his thick cock from root to tip. I’ve seen plenty of diagrams on what a penis should look like, but, in person, it’s hard to label Saint’s as anything other than huge. His tip is swollen and glistening, and idly, I wonder what he might taste like.
I don’t need to wait long.
Saint presses the head of his cock against my lips, and almost on instinct, I take him in my mouth, letting my jaw adjust to his size.
He hisses and his fist tightens in my hair, making me wince. “Put those teeth away, Tesoro.”
I nod, following his instructions, and allow his velvety length to glide over my tongue. He tastes like saltwater and something musky, though I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.
“Good girl, that’s more like it,” he praises, rocking his hips
forward and backward. It’s a gentle motion, though still, my jaw aches to accommodate his size and I have to actively try not to panic when his tip nears the back of my throat.
His grip in my hair tightens and his voice lowers to a growl that promises destruction if I don’t answer correctly. “First question. I presume your father has a safe, I’d imagine someplace in his office. Where is it?”
Saint slides out of my mouth, giving me a chance to catch my breath and answer his question. It’s easy. I’ve known where my father keeps his safe for years. There was only one time I was brave enough to sneak in there, and I found him placing one of his prized million-dollar paintings over the steel chest that was built into the wall.
“It’s built into the wall, behind the Meules photograph. You need a code to enter into the pin pad. I tried but never found the correct combination. It’s impossible for you to get into.”
He “hmmms” as he works his head back into my mouth. “Nothing is impossible.” Saint thrusts into my mouth then slides all the way back out. “Good girl. Now flick the tip with your tongue. Just like that, Tesoro.”
With the tip of my tongue I circle his tip, following the curves and trusting my instincts. I trace the veins on his cock and that earns me a tightened fist in my hair and a raspy groan of approval. The sound shoots straight to my core, making me breathless.
“Second question. Out of all the men your father has come in contact with, who does he trust the most?”
He slides out of my mouth, and I gasp, saliva dribbling down the side of my cheek. “N-No one. My father trusts no one.”
Saint’s lips pinch together in disapproval. He drives his cock in my mouth, hitting the back of my throat, and I choke around his length, panicking. I slap at his thighs, but he holds me down, firmly in place, keeping me from moving away.
“That panic you feel, Tesoro? It’s only going to get worse if you don’t give me what I want to hear.” A frustrated tear leaks out of the corner of my eye as I wrack my brain for anyone that my father might trust. Anyone I can use as a scapegoat. He slides even deeper, and I gag around his length. His fist in my hair tightens to the point of pain.
Slamming my eyes shut, I force myself to think of all the men my father has meetings with, all the men he entrusts inside and outside of his home. A face flashes behind my eyes. It’s so obvious, it’s been right there before me this whole time.
I begin slapping at the backs of his thighs, and he must sense I have an answer for him because he backs off, freeing his cock. I choke on an influx of air.
“Our driver, Banks,” I gasp. “He’s the only person my father trusts to drive me and himself around. He has to know something.”
Something dark glints in Saint’s eyes. “Very good, Tesoro. Now, suck me, and don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Saint slides back in my mouth, and this time, he takes no prisoners. He slides in and out as if he’s fucking me, fucking my mouth and throat with a vigor that has my core clenching for reasons I can’t quite comprehend. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes each time he slams into the back of my throat.
There’s a sudden banging on the door, but that doesn’t stop him.
“Boss, there’s something you need to see!” one of his men yells.
He doesn’t stop.
With a guttural groan, Saint grips my breast, savagely tweaking my nipple until I feel a hot spurt coat the back of my throat. It keeps going until my mouth is full of his cum.
Sliding out of me, he smears some of his left over cum across my lips as he tucks himself away.
“See you very soon, Tesoro.”
Breakfast and lunch have long since passed, and yet, there’s still no sign of Saint. I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. After he dressed this morning, he escorted me back to my room, this time leaving me with my blanket and not chaining me up. I’d hoped I had given him enough information to look into for some time, buying me enough time to figure out how to get out of here.
Even hours later, my jaw still aches from this morning. I can still smell him and taste him. I can still feel his rough hands on my skin. This may not be the safest plan of action, but it’s all I’ve got. And so far, it seems to be working.
My plan is working.
Gain his trust, then kill him.
I can’t know for certain how many days or weeks I’ve been stuck here at his home, but all I know is he thinks I’m weak. He thinks I’ve given up. He thinks he’s broken me. And, most of all, he thinks I care. He thinks I crave his touch, and even though I told myself I don’t, there’s a small part of me that does seek out his warmth and his protection. There might have even been some part of me that liked what happened this morning, but it’s all a means to an end, a ruse.
I know deep down, that even though I’m stuck here, at his mercy, I’m still holding all the cards. He’ll never break me. I’m not as weak as he believes me to be. As if proving that point, I feel something stab me in the knee. For the last twenty minutes or so, I’ve been crouched down by the bedroom window, trying to pry it open, and find a way out. I get down on all fours to inspect the floor and there, stuck between the wood floorboards and the wall trip is a thick nail.
It takes some maneuvering, until finally, I get it out.
I’m not sure what I’ll use it for quite yet, but it’s something I didn’t have before, and that’s all that matters.
Whatever it takes to stay alive, Melody.
As I’m chanting that to myself and standing near the window, the door suddenly opens and in steps Saint, wearing another impeccable suit. A silent air of authority follows him inside, and when he shuts the door behind him and locks it, my stomach twists with unease.
I lick my suddenly dry lips and tighten my blanket around me, watching his every move, as he does the same to me, both of us calculating in our own ways.
Without words, he takes a seat on the bed. He makes himself comfortable there with his long legs stretched out in front of him, watching me. With my heart thudding in my throat, I keep the nail safely tucked away in my palm, hoping like hell he doesn’t sense my deception.
“Drop the blanket and come here, Tesoro,” he demands in a no-nonsense tone. I reluctantly release the blanket as I start his way, and his eyes zero in on my chest, watching the way my tits jiggle at the abrupt movement. His eyes flash with heat. “Now get on your knees.”
My stomach dips.
Slowly, I drop to my knees with bated breath, waiting for whatever comes next. “Keep that ass in the air and crawl to me,” he orders.
My chest tightens, and I pause for only a few seconds before I do just that. Before I crawl to him. I feel his gaze on me, raking across my nude flesh. I pause at his feet and gather what’s left of my composure before glancing up.
He stares down at me with so much heat in his eyes but with such disdain on his face that it’s hard to keep up. “Now lay back and show me your pussy.”
My eyes widen with surprise.
I swallow thickly.
Dropping back on the hard floor, I spread my legs, hating the way heat rises to my cheeks in this compromising position.
“So pretty. So pink,” he praises, eyes glued to my center. “Do you like touching yourself, little girl? Do you like playing with your pussy when no one is looking?” My heart jumps at his dirty words. Sure, I’ve touched myself before, but I’ve never had anyone call me out on it.
I shake my head, not wanting to admit the truth. He smirks down at me, clearly knowing I’m lying. There’s a glint in his eyes as he watches me. It’s one that says I should know better, one that says there’s no hiding here. Not with him.
“Show me how you play with your pussy, Tesoro.”
My palm aches with how tightly I’m grasping onto the nail—the only weapon I have at the moment. I can’t touch myself without giving away what I’m hiding. So, I try a different tactic instead.
“I’d much rather you touch me instead.”
His brows jump, but other than th
at, he gives nothing away.
After some time, he chuckles darkly. “If I touch your pussy, I’m not going to just play with it and call it a day, I’m going to fuck it. I’m going to destroy you, until you’re crying and coming all over my cock.”
My breath catches.
I summon all my strength to keep my voice even and convey the truth behind my words.
“You want to fuck me with your cock, Saint? You want to fill up my tiny pussy with your cum?” I tease in a breathy voice. The muscle in his jaw ticks and not even two seconds go by before he pounces on me with a growl. The firm planes of his body cover mine as he shoves me back, settling between my thighs. I feel his hardness press against my damp center, and I let out a breathy moan. He twists a hand in my hair and tugs on the too long strands, dragging my gaze up to his.
Seconds pass.
He searches my gaze, and I search his.
Then he’s kissing me. His mouth slams against mine with a brutality that hurts so good. His lips are plump and skilled; he kisses with the finesse of a man who knows how to drive women insane. I let him kiss me. I let him grope me, ignoring the sparks of pleasure his touch elicits. Ignoring the warmth flooding my veins as I try to focus on the goal.
Now, the internal voice screams.
When he least expects it, I take the nail that’s grasped in my hand, and I swing my arm back, gaining momentum to jab it in his neck. He must sense it coming because he grabs my neck in a punishing grip and catches my wrist midair. The nail falls from my grasp, and I freeze. We both do.
Slowly, his gaze drags up to mine, and my heart drops.
Oh no.
“Such a sneaky, sneaky, girl, Tesoro.” His grip around my wrist tightens. It becomes so painful I let out an agonized whimper. “How stupid do you think I am? Do you think I’m that starved for pussy I’d believe you for one fucking second?” he grits out, getting in my face.
A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye, rolling into my hair. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Oh, are you now?” he asks, quirking an amused brow. He’s enjoying this. Enjoying my fear, enjoying the pain he is, no doubt, about not inflict upon me.
Tales of Darkness & Sin: An Anthology Page 18