“Okay,” I agreed, surprised at the word as I said it out loud.
He laughed to himself and came over to undo one of the chains. “Behave now...or I might change my mind.”
How was this somehow turning me on even more? I hated the way he talked to me like I was a child. I hated everything about him and about this, and yet, I couldn’t wait to feel some sense of release. Despite the terrible conditions and shitty food, just by being around him, my body had been on fire from the moment I realized it was him who had taken me captive. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I rolled my wrist once it was free as Nicholas pulled up a crate and took a seat in front of me. He stared me down with a blank expression. He didn’t look turned on or excited or even disgusted with me. He just looked completely blank, and it only made it harder for me to touch myself in front of him. And it made me hate him more.
He leaned back and crossed his arms, letting out a yawn. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
I groaned in frustration and closed my eyes tight. I didn’t have much leverage. I was his prisoner, and he had already made it clear he had no qualms with hurting me if he had to or wanted to. Even under the weight of my embarrassment, I was still burning up with need. There was only one way to get this over with.
I took a deep breath and braced myself as if I was about to dive into a pool of freezing cold water. I closed my eyes as tight as I could and tried to pretend that he wasn’t gawking at me as my trembling hand reached down in between my legs. I started rubbing in soft circles, suppressing any hint of a moan or change in my breath. I didn’t want him to know how badly I needed it.
It was so absurd to be imagining him in my mind when he was just a few feet away, staring right at me. If I surrendered to him completely and openly, would he turn back into who he had been before? Was there some way to just make him give me what I wanted?
The pressure of his gaze and all the confusion and adrenaline was too much. My touch was doing nothing for me. I couldn’t even fake it. He grew impatient as he saw my frustration growing.
“Ah-ha!” he shouted as he stood up. I yanked my hand away as if I had been caught. “Did I tell you to stop? Keep going.”
I swallowed hard, wanting to cry, and kept doing as I was told. But it wasn’t my touch that I wanted, and I couldn’t bring myself to beg and admit to what I needed so badly.
“I was right,” he grinned. “You do struggle pleasing yourself.”
“I can’t with you just staring at me,” I snapped.
He got dangerously close again. Just the warmth of his body was enough to make me react to my touch, finally. I bit back a moan and kept doing what he wanted me to do. What he ordered me to do.
“What is it that you would rather me do if not just sitting and staring?” he asked in that low tone that drove me insane. “Do you need me to hold your hand?”
He was so condescending that I wanted to spit at him or bite him, but as he reached forward and wrapped his grip around mine, I did nothing. I closed my eyes again and ignored everything I should have been feeling...everything I wanted to be feeling. I surrendered to his touch and the feeling of my fingers as he guided them over my folds. He squeezed my arm so tight that it should have hurt, but his voice and his scent was intoxicating enough that I didn’t care.
“If I remember correctly...I believe you like it faster,” he rasped, forcing my hand in fast and hard motions.
I bit into my lip so hard, I thought it might bleed. I was rapidly approaching the edge, but it was still so uncomfortable to be submitting to this. Every time I got there, something stopped me from giving in completely. I didn’t know if he’d stop once I orgasmed, or if he’d mock me. There was no way of predicting what he’d do next. So instead, I froze up, unable to stop and unable to get anywhere with it.
“Still not good enough?” he teased, his breath growing faster. I could feel his erection pushing against me. “You do need me to do this for you, don’t you?”
I trembled without speaking, holding everything in the best I could.
“Say it,” he barked. “Tell me you need me to do it.”
I couldn’t stop a deep moan from escaping my lips when I opened my mouth to speak. “Ye...y...I...I nee…”
“Say it!”
“I need you to do it,” I whimpered. “Touch me. Please.”
“And when I do, I will tell you when to cum,” he ordered, teasing his hand closer. “Not a moment sooner and not a moment later. Understand?”
“Yes…”
“Say it louder.”
“I understand!”
I collapsed from the stress of wanting it and hating it so much all at once until finally, his fingers pressed inside me and stroked against my own pooling wetness. He moved his fingers so expertly that I was dangerously close from the first few seconds. He pressed his head to the wall next to me and watched me with his mouth open, his eyes delighting in seeing what he was doing to me.
He moved faster, and I felt so close to cumming, but I tried to wait like he told me to do. I didn’t know why. What could he really do to me if I did it before he said to? But something in me wanted to obey him. I liked being at his mercy, as humiliating as it was to admit.
“Now,” he said finally. “Cum for me.”
The second the words spilled from his tongue, I collapsed in the most explosive orgasm I had ever experienced. I hit my head on the wall from carelessly rolling my neck backward in ecstasy, and the chains around me rattled as I squirmed. It shot straight down to my toes, curling them up right where I stood.
“Good girl,” he growled.
I watched him to see what he would do next. His face had changed as if he was taken over by a different kind of hunger - one that was harder for him to control and use against me; however he wished. He didn’t let go of my hand but brought it over to the bulge in his pants. Without asking or saying another word, he unbuckled and let them fall to the floor, releasing his erection to spill out into my hand.
I was glad he didn’t talk. I didn’t want to either. I didn’t want us to discuss my willingness to please him, but I did want to wrap him in my hand and watch him crumble against me from the feeling. So I did. I stroked him as he bit into my neck. He brought one hand up to where his mouth was and squeezed.
I worked his throbbing hardness in my hand until he grew restless and pinned my one free hand back up against the wall. He hoisted my legs around his hips and thrust into me, pounding my exposed back against the roughness behind me. I could feel it scratching into my skin, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the feeling of him ramming into me and sliding out again. I had wanted it for so long, and now it was finally happening again. Everything else went hazy, and I didn’t care about anything anymore...beyond the feeling of him inside of me.
I wanted to claw into him, but one arm was chained, and the other was pinned firmly beneath his grip. I had to do something...something to both punish and reward him for giving me what I wanted. I leaned forward and bit into his flesh. The harder he pounded into me, the harder I bit down. It was a vicious cycle, only making him move faster and deeper until finally, he was spilling out inside of me.
Once again, I was left not knowing what he would do next. He let my legs drop to the floor and pulled up his pants. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t speak. He released my other arm that was chained up, and then my feet, and then he walked out of the room.
I stood there in disbelief and listened as he latched the locks, one by one. It was the cruelest thing he could have done, really. He left me alone, forcing me to sit with what I had just submitted to.
Chapter 11
Nicholas
I didn’t mean to fuck Jada again. At least I didn’t think I did. I don’t remember that being my intention when I walked in, but it just happened. I only wanted to toy with her emotions, and she somehow ended up toying with my body. My body, that still tingled from the fading feelings of her touch. I could still feel her saliva pulled a
round the bite marks in my neck. I felt the wound, finding the smallest trace of blood from where she broke the skin. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as I thought.
My fingers were still pressed against the marks as I walked back into the house. Of course, all the men stopped and looked me over, seeming just as pissed as they were when I left. They wanted money, and they didn’t want to wait for me to play my games before they got it.
“I’ll pay you all a little now,” I offered, knowing what they were thinking. “Out of my own pocket. Makes no difference to me. It will all be made up for in the long run.”
“You’re so sure you’re not going soft on the plan?” one of them asked, stepping closer to try and steal a peek at my neck.
I moved my hand, and they all started laughing to themselves. “You thought you could get in an extra taste of her, and she got a bite of you instead!” They teased.
I could have been angry with them. I could have snapped and put them in their place, but instead, all I did was smirk and excuse myself to my room. I had seen the way their eyes lit up with excitement, and they were already chomping at the bit to have a go at her. Once I was cleaned up, I pushed a chair over to my bedroom window to keep a close watch on her shed. I felt protective before, but now I was more certain than ever that not a single one of them was to so much as look at her without my permission.
I watched the shed, imagining her on the inside. What was she doing right then? How did she feel after I left? I wondered if she felt satisfied or disgusted, or maybe a little bit of both. Did she race to clean my scent off of her skin? Or did she let it linger?
As the sun fell later that evening, I could hear the men having another rowdy party - likely celebrating my offer to pay them a little money upfront. The house filled with smells of cooked sausage and stir-fried vegetables. I could hear the clinks of bottles and glasses as they passed around tequila, danced, and sang songs. Even the maids were joining in on the fun - helping themselves to the booze, just so long as they flirted with the guys a bit and hinted at the promise of something more to happen later in the night.
I stayed in my station, keeping guard over Jada and wondering what she was doing inside the shed. But later in the night, once everyone was thoroughly drunk, I heard everything quiet down, followed by the booming of the television set. They had turned up the volume of a news report about Jada’s disappearance. It was enough to coax me out of hiding and watch from the hallway.
The Garcias were standing side by side with the Chavez sisters and their mother, each of them crying and begging for information on Jada’s whereabouts. Paul looked especially heartbroken about his missing bride, or maybe his pride was just wounded.
It still filled me with warm satisfaction to think about how I swept him and took him right out from under him with his whole family watching, and there was nothing he could do. Or rather, nothing he would do. If the roles had been reversed, I would have known how to keep someone from taking Jada from me - knife to her neck or not. If I hadn’t been able to stop them, I would have hunted them down, not sobbed on the television for everyone to see. What a weak, helpless, pathetic excuse for a man, I thought. Jada was better off with me.
But as I watched her sisters speak, I got a feeling from them, like they knew more than they were letting on. It made me wonder if they were anything to worry about. Even if they did suspect me as the kidnapper, they wouldn’t know how to find me. But a name would give them some advantage.
I slipped past the others who had gone back to drinking as they threw things at the TV, and snuck back out to the shed. Jada was laying on the flat, dirty cot when I walked in, but her eyes were opened wide.
“What do you want?” she scowled.
“You’re not happy to see me?” I quipped, but she didn’t answer. She stayed on her cot with her arms crossed. “I wanted to check in on you after our little encounter...It got me to thinking about the first time we met.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, how romantic.”
“That first time...Did I answer your question?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You said you didn’t know what ravenous passion would feel like. Did I show you?”
She looked away, but even in the darkness, I could see her cheeks grow red. “What do you care?”
I walked over to kneel down beside her bed. She quickly rolled over and turned her back to me, but I reached over to stroke my hand across her cheek anyway. “Come on, Jada Chavez. Indulge me. And maybe I will reward you for it.”
After a long silence and a big sigh, she finally said, “Yes. That first time...you did show me what ravenous passion feels like. But everything since then? What you did to me earlier? That’s not passion. That’s something else entirely, something vile and disgusting.”
“Ah, well...we will talk about that part later. But tell me, when a young woman loses her virginity in such a wildly passionate way, dare I say...earth-shattering? Does she tell anyone about it? Like her sisters?”
She whipped back around and looked me in the eyes with a frightened expression. “Why would you ask me that? My sisters? Do they know where I am?”
I stood up and circled the room. “Where? No. But with who? Possibly. I was hoping you could tell me that.”
“Then yes,” she answered too quickly, standing up to follow me. “Yes, I told them everything. They know all about you and everything you did to me, and you’re the first person they would have named to the police as a possible suspect. They’ll know you’re the one who broke into the church and took me.”
I considered the possibility carefully, stroking the stubble of my chin. “Unless they thought you would live…”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Well, if they knew you were going to live...They’d still expect you to be marrying Paul when you had returned. So they couldn’t very well tell the policia, who are such good friends with Mr. Garcia, the details of our first meeting. It would ruin your whole arrangement.”
She thought about it for a moment, looking concerned. “They wouldn’t have to tell the policia everything. Just that you were harassing me at the party.”
“So then Paul is not expecting you to be a virgin on your wedding night? If that day ever comes.” I leaned in very close to her ear. “Or maybe he snuck a taste of his bride? Tell me...Was Paul Garcia ever to demonstrate ravenous passion for you?” She cringed and turned away from me, drawing a hearty laugh from my lips. “You’re more disgusted by your fiance than you are with me!”
“I’m disgusted with everything you’ve done to my life,” she grumbled.
“Well, that’s all for tonight, sweet Jada. I’ll let you sleep now. And, as promised, I will reward you first thing in the morning for indulging me and all of my questions.” I moved in on her one more time to purr against her neck. “I hope you think of me tonight as you try to sleep.”
She shuttered under the brush of my fingers along her arm, just before I left her alone again. I certainly thought of her as I laid down to go to sleep, and by the next morning, the house was filled with a copy of every newspaper in circulation - each one with a front-page report about Jada Chavez’s disappearance. They were growing desperate.
“The reward they’re offering is more than we were going to ask for in hostage money,” one of the men noted in shock.
“Knowing Mr. Garcia, he won’t pay a dime for anything,” I huffed as I looked over one of the papers. “Anyway, this just means we can ask for more. So don’t get any ideas.”
Their increasing desperation did complicate things for me. It would be easy for anyone of my disgruntled men to go to the police and turn me in, collecting a reward in the process. It was already more than they ever imagined getting out of the job.
“Don’t forget that anyone who tries to rat me out will also be tried as an accomplice,” I reminded them, just to be safe.
One of them stomped across the room and slammed a paper to the countertop I was lean
ing against. He stabbed a knife right through it, penetrating the wood underneath. Then he turned to me and snarled, “We make the video of our demands...today!”
I stepped closer to him, not looking the least bit intimidating. When he didn’t back down or remember his place, I quickly wrapped my hand around his fat neck and lifted him a good two feet into the air above me. “We make the video and all other decisions based on what I say. Not you. Got it!?”
He turned bright red and blue, kicking his feet as his hands pried at my fingers. He did his best to nod in agreement despite my tight grip. I let him drop to the floor and scanned the faces of the other men to make sure they were all good and scared.
“Hey, you,” I called out to one of the girls - the only one who was awake and fully clothed after last night’s debauchery. “Come here.”
She scurried over and listened carefully as I whispered instructions into her ear. I had promised Jada a reward after all, and now I had a new wave of worry among the troops to keep at bay. I had something planned to take care of it all, and despite the papers scattered around the room, it was shaping up to be a damn good day.
Once the girls had tended to my requests, I revisited Jada in the shed. They had come in and cleaned the place up, giving her a nicer bed and a decent breakfast. They brought in a basin of hot water for her to clean up with, and a few changes of clothes.
As much as I loved the sight of her sullied wedding dress all torn to shreds, hanging by a thread from her body, it was nice to see her all cleaned up with a white ruched blouse tucked into a pair of pants. They had helped her wash her hair, which she kept pinned up in a wide ponytail at the top of her head. I came in with flowers in hand and put them in a vase on her new table. She was seated in front of them, scarfing down food like she was starving.
“Happy?” I asked.
She nodded reluctantly and continued eating. I smiled and walked along the edge of the room. Of course, sending the girls in here to clean everything up wasn’t just about rewarding Jada. I had other things in mind. But first, I just wanted to watch her enjoy her meal.
Stolen Pregnant Bride (Olive Skin Devils Book 3) Page 8
