by Amy Rose
“Okay” I whisper, and I watch as he devours me. The stubble which now calls his face home, scratching me all the while. I feel something building in me, and I try my hardest not to let it free. However Dylan senses it, his lips, teeth and tongue begin moving at an even more punishing rate, continuing to drive me higher and higher until I am just about to fall, then he lets me go and sits up, resting his naked ass on the back of his heels, his hand comes over to stroke his cock which is standing to full attention. “Legs spread and in the air” he commands. I do as he says immediately “good girl” he says, he comes forward, inching his cock towards my entrance, he moves it up and down my now wet folds.
Before pushing it so slightly in, and then taking it back out again, “this time Angela, I want you to scream my name, if you don’t, I’m going to punish you. Do you understand?” I nod, he slams into me, all the way home. I scream at the sudden invasion. “I said, scream my name,” he shouted.
“Dylan,” I reply, he pulls out and slams home again, knowing what he wants this time it comes automatically, “Dylan” he steadies into a punishing rhythm.
“Who does this cunt belong to?” he asks. I know what he wants, and even though I hate myself for saying it, I do.
“You, Dylan. it belongs to you,’’ I hear his groan, deep from within his chest.
“You’re damn right it does” a pressure begins to build within me once more. He starts moving at an even faster pace, I feel him tighten inside me, glad that it is almost over, when he pulls out, I look at him, that smirk plastered again over his face.
“Oh no Angie, I’m not done yet, he walks over to the chest of draws and grabs his bat, before walking back over to the bed. He positions himself once again at my entrance, his fingers entering my warmth this time, before coming out coating the end of his bat. In that moment, absolute horror, rolls through my body.
“Dylan, please, no. Fuck me as hard as you want, bite me even, but please, don’t do that.” He smiles at me as he moves the bat to my entrance.
“Your body is mine to do with as I please, Angela. Now be a good girl and relax. It will be easier that way.” I try to sit up, his free hand reaching out to grab my throat, “lie back and take it, Angela.” His hand tightens around my throat and I struggle for air, as the stars start to appear, he lets go and he plunges his bat into me at the same time. I scream, a loud blood-curdling sound at the penetration. Tears start rolling from my eyes. He pushes it deeper and deeper into me, before pulling it back out and replacing it with his cock, which now feels like nothing after the size of the bat. He continues pistoning into me, never stopping. His hand comes back up to my throat, and he leans down to my ear. “Say it,” he sneers in my ear.
“Dylan,” I whisper, as he finishes inside of me once more.
As he pulls out of me, I briefly think I am about to get a reprieve, but no such luck. The bat is inserted into me once more, but he doesn’t move it. I look down to see my assaulted pussy. “That’s where that bat is going to live until I’m ready for another fuck.” He leans over and forces his lips on my own, in a crude, cruel kiss.
I shake my head from side to side. “Please, Dylan, no,” I cry out, and then I say the only thing I can think of to try and make him see reason, “I’d rather have your cock, please Dylan, give my cunt, I mean your cunt a moment to get ready for you again”, he lifts his eyebrows at me
“Well, you’re right in saying that’s my cunt.” He reaches down to the baseball bat, and I breathe a premature sigh of relief, hoping he was removing it. Instead he gives it a turn, and pushes it in further.
“Ahhhhhhhh,” I scream.
“Oh, the sounds you make, Angela.”
He pulls my legs down the bed until the bat is firm against the footboard and then pulls me further. The invasion of the bat is now at an excruciating level. “Ah, the sight of you now,” he sneers. I feel something cool on my left ankle, followed by a click, and then my right ankle receives the same treatment. He then secures a thick rope over my abdomen and ties it on the base of the bed on either side. I won’t be going anywhere until he lets me.
I open my eyes to see that Dylan is no longer in the room, but what I do see horrifies me. I am cuffed to the bed, with no way of moving, the bat permanently in place until he chooses to remove it.
And that’s when I let it all out. I cry and cry some more until I don’t have any tears left to cry.
~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~
Elliot
Pulling up into the driveway to our new home in Belle Meade, I don’t see Angela’s black sedan parked near the entrance. “Maybe she is running late, sir” Price murmurs. I pull my cell out and dial her number, it goes directly to voicemail, I wait a few more minutes before calling again, her voicemail greets me once more.
I glance down at my watch and it’s creeping toward 5:00 pm. Instead I dial the office, just in case an appointment has kept her late. “Nashville Realty, Jenny speaking.” I’m relieved that I know who has answered,
“Jenny, hi, it’s Elliot Sands. Is Angie in?”
“Hi there, Elliot. No, she isn’t. She had an inspection at another property before she was meeting up with you, however she never checked in. I presumed she went straight to meet you”,
I shake my head, then realize she can’t see it. “Nope, she isn’t here, maybe she is running late. Her cell goes straight to voicemail though,” I suggest.
“Hmm, that’s odd. Don’t worry though, she is meeting one of your friends. Drake Edwards, I imagine you have his number.” A feeling of uncertainty blooms in my stomach. Drake would never look for a property here. Kat doesn’t like the country at all, preferring the hustle and bustle of the city.
“Did he leave you the number ending in 743?” Even though he only had the one cell number, I needed the confirmation.
“Let me check, ummm, no, it ends in 194.” My throat suddenly feels dry and I find it difficult to swallow.
“That’s not Drakes number. I need you to describe the guy who she is meeting.”
“Of course, tall, dark hair, emerald eyes”, my stomach drops to the floor. Dylan had gotten to her.
“Thanks, Jenny. I’ll be in touch soon.” I hang up before Jenny has the chance to respond.
Price is turned around in his seat. “Are you sure it’s, Dylan that has her, sir”? I nod.
“It has to be, Lenny. The description matches, and he is the only one who would lie about his identity to meet with her, as she wouldn’t go willingly.” I scroll my contacts until I find who I am looking for. He answers on the second ring,
“Hey, brother”,
“Drake, I need you to search for Angela’s phone, she has been kidnapped,’’ silence answers me.
“Huh? Kidnapped, by who?”
“Take me to the airport,” I spit at Price before returning to my call. “Her ex. He is a psychopath. Just find her.”
“All right, all right, I’ll look. It will take some time.”
“Call me back when you have a location” I end the call and throw the phone at the seat.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I punch the window beside me, and feel the pain radiating through my fist. I knew deep down it was Dylan that had her. My phone vibrates from beside me,
“What?” I answer.
“Can’t locate her phone man, it’s not switched on. The only thing I can tell you is the last time it was used though was on Ratchet Road in Nashville, about forty-five minutes ago”
I clench my free fist, “Can you search for someone else’s phone? If I don’t know the number?”
“Nah man, I need the phone number to look for it.’’ I take a breath.
“I’ll get it and call you back”
After ending the call, I scroll my contacts for Kat, “What do you need?” she answers.
“I need the number for Dylan Roberts”,
I hear clicking on Kat’s end, “you mean the guy we just fired last month, don’t you?”
“That’s him.” More clicking.
/>
“Are you going to tell me why you need it?”
“No” I state
“Okay, here it is” she rattles off the number.
“Send it to me.” Another few clicks.
“Done.”
“Thanks.” I look at my phone waiting for it to come through.
As soon as it appears on screen, I dial it. “This is Dylan Roberts. I’ll get back to you when I can.” I hang up before leaving a message, forwarding the number to Drake instead.
The car comes to a stop beside a small private plane. Price exits the car first and speaks to someone, after a few minutes he signals all is ready. I make my way to the plane without giving anyone a second glance, we take off quickly and I’m knocking on Drake’s door in less than four hours.
As soon as I walk in the door I head straight for the fridge and pull out a beer, “what have you found?” I ask. The look I get in response can only mean one thing, we have nothing,
“Not much. It was active for about twenty minutes, six hours ago in Nashville, but nothing since. I’ve kept the trace active, so if it gets turned back on I’ll know when and where.” I pace the floor back and forth, raking at my hair. I pull off my tie and unbutton my shirt at some stage. I vaguely remember Drake heading to bed at some point. At almost eight in the morning, I try Angela’s phone again. Her beautiful voice greets me in the form of her voicemail.
I leave Drake’s apartment and ride the elevator up to my penthouse, heading straight to the master suite, I fall onto the bed and fall asleep.
I wake to the sound of my cell phone. I scramble around half asleep for it, and hear it hit the floor, I locate it just as it goes quiet. The screen lights up and shows it’s after 7.00 pm. It also shows several missed calls from Drake.
“Where is she?” I demand as I rub my fist in my eyes,
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Where, Drake?”
“I don’t know where she is Elliot, her phone hasn’t switched back on at all, but the second number you gave came active at 5.00 pm.’’ He pauses. “It was in the Great Smoky Mountains region, which is around a four-hour drive from Nashville.”
I leap off the bed and into the bathroom, “I’ll be down in ten minutes.” I slam the phone down onto the marble counter and strip before walking into the shower, turning it as hot as I can bear it.
When my skin is all red, I step back out and quickly pat myself dry while walking into the walk-in closet. I grabbed the first pair of jeans and sweater I lay my hands on. I grab my wallet, stuffing it into the back pocket and collect my keys and cell before pulling the door closed and going down to my best friends.
The door is unlocked when I reach it, so I walk straight in where Drake is waiting for me. He is at the kitchen counter, his laptop open, a duffel bag sitting on the floor at his feet. He walks around his island and rinses his coffee cup before coming back, bending down and taking his duffel in hand. “I’ve uploaded the directions to my phone. Let’s go.”
I walk behind him, and we take the elevator down to the basement. Price is waiting for us, the car already running. The trunk opens and he throws his bag in beside two others “Price already packed you both a bag” as an explanation. We slide into the back of the SUV and we make our way back to the airport, and onto another private jet.
I knew where she was, and I was going to get her. And nothing and no one would stand in my way.
~ Chapter Twenty-Eight ~
Angela
Dylan saunters into the room. “Oh good, you’re awake.” He stops at the foot of the bed and moves the baseball bat slightly. The ache from within feels like I am on fire.
“If I release your ankles, will you be a good girl for me?” he asks.
“Of course, Dylan, a very good girl,” I reply. He presses on the bat again forcing it further inside before changing the angle and removing it. The pain is nothing like it just was, and yet the ache that is there, I feel will never go away. His fingers quickly replace the bat’s recently located destination and curl up inside me, and I feel nothing. I am totally numb. “Your cunt is nice and loose now, Angie. I might have to find something larger for next time.” I say nothing in return. He pulls on my leg, shoving his fingers inside me at the same time,
“Dylan,” I say.
He removes his fingers from within me and trails them down to my ankle, where he begins to unclasp one hand cuff, and then the other. He rolls my ankles slowly, massaging them, before coming back up my body. He leans over and licks both of my nipples before biting them both, hard. “Dylan!” I scream.
“That’s right, Angie. I’m who your body belongs to.”
“Yes, yours,” I whisper.”
His hands drop to the side of the bed, I follow his hands with my eyes and see that he is untying the rope that’s holding me in place. Once undone, he throws it over the other side of the bed, and slides his hands under my armpits, lifting me up towards him. “I need to go to the bathroom, please Dylan.” He smooths my hair back, before slipping his hand down under my legs, he lifts me up and carries me into the adjoining bathroom, before sitting me on the toilet. As I begin to urinate, I almost jump off the toilet. The burning sensation is so bad, it’s as though I’m pouring alcohol onto an open wound.
“Ah yes, you can feel where I have been inside you, can’t you, Angie.”
Not wanting to make him any angrier, I reply, “Yes Dylan.” It’s not him I’m feeling inside of me. It’s his damn weapon of choice.
After I have finished relieving myself, he lifts me once more, standing me in front of the wash basin. I take a chance to look in the mirror and my reflection is horrifying. My cheek is a motley shade of purple and blue, my eye swollen. Lowering my gaze to my neck I can clearly see his handprint from his choking exercise earlier, turning a bluish hue.
He turns on the hot and cold tap and waits for the water to be warm before holding my own hands underneath the water. I allow the warmth to warm my hands, and I wish ever so much to have it wash over my body, “Dylan, will you bathe me please?” I ask, leaning back towards him, I look at our reflections in the mirror, and see his eyes meet my own.
“Now doesn’t that sound like the perfect idea”, he leans down and kisses my neck, then nips at it, before once again locking eyes with me in the mirror.
He guides me over to the bathtub and puts me in. While playing with the taps at the opposite end, he puts the plug into place and a short time later the warm water starts filling the tub. “Sit,” he commands, and I do. He wanders out of the room and comes back with some body wash. He makes no attempt to hop in the bath with me.
“Will you hop in with me?” I ask, hoping that my polite request will earn me points.
He runs a finger across my lips, before turning the water off, “no, make sure you wash yourself, I want you and your cunt clean” before standing up, and walking out the bathroom door.
I continue to stare at the door, expecting him to come back in when I’m not expecting it. After a few minutes of him not reappearing, I pick up the body wash, uncap it and pour some into my open hand, and I gingerly rub it over my body. When I look down at my body to the water, I see the water is no longer clear, but pink. I reach down to the apex of my thighs, and ever so gently touch myself. I almost reel back.
I retrieve my hand and see blood, and a coldness spreads all over my body, then going completely numb. I’m not surprised; after what he had done to me earlier with the baseball bat, I had expected it. As the cold progresses to the outer extremities of my body, a new feeling starts to bubble from inside. It begins as a warmth, my anger boiling inside, starting from my heart, pulsing out with every heartbeat further and further, stretching across my skin. The warmth settles within my soul, and I start formulating a plan. The only time that he will let his guard down at all is when he sleeps or while he is inside of me. If I can somehow be on top of him, with the bat within reach, I could maybe grab it and hit him with enough force to at least knock him out, then I could run
to the phone and call for help.
As if knowing that leaving me alone was a bad idea, Dylan walks back through the door. He stops beside the bath, not commenting at all at the color of the water. He offers me his hand and I take it immediately, wanting to get on his good side as soon as possible. He pulls me out of the water.
“Thank you for the bath, Dylan”, he just nods at me. He pulls the towel from its position on the towel rack and wraps it around me, pulling me into his chest, he pushes his nose into my hair.
“It doesn’t have to be like this you know, Angie”, he whispers into my hair. I curl further into him, hoping that my willingness to be in his arms might make him comfortable. He pulls back slightly and pushes me away. “Look at me,” he demands, so I do. “I love you, Angie, you know that don’t you? I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you, and then you ran off and I couldn’t find you anywhere. Do you have any idea how badly that hurt me?” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I shouldn’t have left.’’ He nods at my statement.
“And then when I do see you again, you’re on the arm of Elliot fucking Sands, at that staff Christmas party. I couldn’t believe my luck.” He stops, squeezing my arms. Wanting to keep him talking, I interject again.
“I know, it was fate wasn’t it, Dylan?”
“Exactly, you came back to me. I just had to get you away from him. I couldn’t let him have what was mine.” He pauses. “You understand why I’m doing this, don’t you, Angie?”
Is he fucking serious? He wants to me to say what he is doing to me is okay. I want to punch him and scream at him that he is a cunt, but instead, I keep a calm outer appearance, and tell him what he wants to hear.
“Yes, Dylan, you wanted to make sure that I knew that I was yours, and only yours.” looking at his tattoo, I get an idea, I reach out and stroke his pectoral muscle, “Till death do us part.” He reaches down and takes my fingers within his own and lifts them to his mouth.
He kisses them, gently, something that shocks me. I take the win for what it is, he is starting to defrost, ever so little. It’s working, Angie, keep going. “I should be marrying you, Dylan, not Elliot, I see that now.”
