by Chloe Saint
It was Daddy.
He was shaking hands with someone in the photo, and smiling wide at the man who was smiling back. It didn’t look like either man was aware that the photo was being taken. If anything, it looked like one of those near-blurry photos taken by paparazzi of celebrities, using long-range focusing cameras so they wouldn’t be spotted.
But why did they have this photo?
Some kind of business deal had just gone through, I guessed. That was the only time Daddy ever seemed happy or content.
So, whatever my kidnappers were involved in, it had something to do with Daddy.
How long had they been planning this? I wondered, feeling cold. I rubbed my arms to get rid of the chill that I suddenly felt.
They were using me to get to Daddy.
There was nothing to indicate where the photo was from or why it was taken. If there was ever a caption the men had cut it away, so I was just left with the image of the two men’s’ smiling faces. Where was the other man now, and why did he seem so familiar to me, I wondered as I rifled through the rest of their papers.
I knew it wasn’t safe. I knew that I was taking a risk, and that my kidnappers might come back and find me here any minute. But I had to try, in case I never got the chance to find the secret room again. Unfortunately, everything seemed to be written in some kind of code language, with little lines and scribbles that I couldn’t make out.
Sighing in frustration, I put the papers back exactly where I found them and tiptoed out of the room again. Hopefully, nobody would find a pin out of place and they wouldn’t suspect me. I knew I’d been careful.
Pressing the nearly-invisible button on the wall made it slide closed again, and I was left to contemplate that blank stretch of fake concrete.
They’d gone to a lot of trouble to construct that secret room, I thought, biting my lip. A casual search would never find it. I almost missed it, in fact I would have completely missed it if not for that little flicker of light that I just happened to notice.
I went back upstairs, to the well-lit living room, and forcing my mind into blankness, began flipping through channels on the giant flat screen. I settled on something loud with attractive actors and loads of explosions, but it couldn’t prevent my lids from growing heavier and heavier. I was still tired. I was wary of letting myself fall asleep in the open like this. What if those men found me sleeping and…?
I would wake up before they came, I told myself firmly, before surrendering to the sweet embrace of sleep.
Chapter 4
I didn’t wake up before they came.
Instead, their voices woke me up. I could hear them rumbling at each other, and the metallic clinking of the key being inserted into the lock of the front door, and just like that my eyes snapped open.
I didn’t have the luxury of stretching or going back to sleep. Adrenaline filled my body, and I tasted its sourness in my mouth. My body was telling me to escape.
So I did.
I scrambled off the couch, like someone lit a fire under my ass, and ran to the bottom of the staircase. My room locked from the inside, I told myself anxiously. True, I hadn’t actually seen the lock, but...it had to be there.
At the foot of the stairs, I turned back. I didn’t mean to, I knew it was only slowing me down, but my body just moved independently of my mind. I caught a glimpse of a booted foot entering and fled upstairs.
“Little rabbit!” a voice called tauntingly. I thought it was Killian. None of the others had that tone of vicious sweetness in their voices.
I was disturbed that I already felt like knew them so well.
I found my way to my room, and shut the door, heart beating exactly like a rabbit’s, small and fast. As I turned the lock on the doorknob—yes, it was there—I noticed strings of greyish material on my clothes.
I cursed. I was willing to bet that the men would definitely notice that my clothes were covered in cobwebs.
Worse, they might start to wonder where I’d wandered off to.
I stepped into the bathroom and stripped off quickly, throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper. I was going to launder them right after showering.
Aware of my nakedness, and of how dangerous a state it was to be undressed in this particular house, I stepped into the shower and stood under the spray of scalding hot water.
It was loud in my ears, muffling all other sound, which was why I didn’t hear Killian slip into the bathroom after me, and strip off. I wasn’t aware of him until he slid the door open and took me by the hips, a wide smirk on his face.
“Ah!” I shrieked, shoving a soapy hand into his chest to keep him away. But it was like trying to hold off a rock wall. His muscles jumped under my hand as he chuckled. I couldn’t help noticing how his chest was streaked with sweat and dirt—and how that didn’t disgust me though it should.
“Trying to run away from us, little rabbit?” he teased, baring his teeth as he stroked the skin of my side. He dipped down to the curve of my ass and dug into the flesh there with the barest hint of his nails.
I gasped.
“St-stop,” I said, and tried pushing him again, to no avail.
“Not blushing this time,” he mused, his other hand coming to cup my breast. “Learning your place?”
“Learning how to live with savages,” I retorted unwisely.
His grip on my breast tightened painfully. His thumb circled my nipple and I could feel them tightening in arousal. The combination of slick, soapy water on my skin and his touch—however unwelcome—was making my body react like a lit fuse. I could feel my skin getting pink and flushed, and it wasn’t only because of the heat.
“Still mouthy,” he said, with something like a growl underneath his words. “We’ll soon fix that.”
I cried out as he shoved me against the wall without t warning. He was still wearing his shirt, although it was unbuttoned, and I could feel the wet fabric of it against my back as I clutched the wet wall and prayed.
Prayed for what? Well, I wasn’t quite sure.
“This how you want it?” he asked me cruelly, letting the hand not pinning me down drift to the cleft between my cheeks.
“No!” I said, trying to wriggle away as he stroked down the skin of my cleft and circled the small, puckered hole.
I felt something hard pressing against my ass and froze. He laughed at my reaction.
“I might be bigger than you’re used to,” he said and rubbed his thick length against my bare ass. I moaned, partly from fear and partly from the throb that had developed in my clit.
“But do you know what to do with it,” I found myself saying.
That was monumentally stupid, I realized right after the words left my mouth. Here was my kidnapper, huge and brawny and more powerful than me in every way…and I was purposefully antagonizing him.
I was an idiot.
“That sounded like an invitation,” he breathed, sounding eager. His hand came up to force my head to one side and I found three fingers entering my mouth relentlessly.
“Suck.”
I obeyed helplessly. The only other option was to choke on those fingers that left me gasping for breath. Once his fingers were sloppy and slick with my spit, he removed them.
I had a faint hope that that was it. He wanted to come in and frighten me, show that he had power over me. And now that he’d done it, he would leave.
But when I felt something pushing at my asshole, threatening to break through the protective ring of muscle there, I knew that I was very, very wrong.
“Don’t!” I cried, as his finger entered me. It felt like a intrusion, something strange and not right. He grunted when he was knuckle-deep in me, ignoring my pleas. Then a second finger nudged its way into me, joining the first.
He couldn’t possibly be planning on putting his cock in there! The hole was too small, too tight. I couldn’t imagine any amount of lube or stretching being enough to make me accommodate his giant cock.
He began pushing his fingers in and o
ut of me, and I felt some strange, fluttering feeling as he touched a spot deep inside me. It wasn’t going into my clit exactly, but it was building more slowly as I got used to the unwelcome intrusion.
Then he put a third finger into me, and I thought I was stretched as far as I could go. His other hand that was pinning me in place now moved to the front of my crotch, teasing my pussy lips and stroking my clit so it was swollen and aroused.
It was too much. I could barely take a third finger, and I couldn’t think straight--all the blood in my body was rushing away from my brain. Only the fingers touching my pussy and the ones pumping in and out of my rear hole seemed to matter.
When he pulled his thick fingers out, I almost groaned in disappointment. Almost immediately, something else was pressing against the entrance to my stretched hole. Something blunt and cruel, and much, much bigger than anything I’d encountered before.
I tensed as he grunted and pushed inside, but it wasn’t easy. Some part of me knew I wanted it, that it would be better than anything I’d felt until now, but the rest of me that was frightened insisted on tightening up and making it harder for Killian to sheathe himself in me.
“Come on,” he was saying roughly, flicking my clit and rubbing his thumb into it, flattening it so the pain heightened the pleasure. My pussy hole throbbed from emptiness as I came, gasping into the tile of the bathroom wall.
“That’s better,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Nice and loose now.”
“You’re too big,” I said, but it didn’t matter. He was sliding into me, and somehow I was expanding, stretching in tiny increments so I could take him in. I gasped as he finally sat inside me fully, balls deep and so big I thought I could see the bulge in my belly with the outline of his dick.
Then he slid out, and pushed back in, repeating the motion until my body accepted him. I let myself be used, still hazy from the orgasm but I could feel another building in me as my hole fluttered and clenched around him. He was moving faster now, and I could hear his breaths getting shorter. I was too tight, too hot around him, and it was bringing him to the edge quickly. I couldn’t help feeling satisfaction at the thought. I knew he never had anyone whose plush, hot hole felt as good around his length as mine did.
I cried out as I felt his release filling me.
“Next time,” he panted into my ear, “I’ll breed you. That’s what you’re good for—being a broodmare. You like that, don’t you?”
I moaned and shuddered through my own second release, which spared me from answering him.
The truth was—I did like that. I liked the idea of being helpless under their bodies, letting them use me and carrying their seed. It woke something primal in me, a desire to submit, to kneel in front of them and suck them off and let them fill every hole in me.
I hardly remembered being dried off with a towel by Killian’s surprisingly gentle hands, or him combing my long hair and untangling the snarls, or being wrapped in a fluffy robe and carried to bed.
All I remembered was the strong, warmth of his arms, encircling me like a trap I didn’t want to escape from, right before I fell asleep again.
But when I woke up, I could tell that it was only a few hours later. I looked over immediately, heart in my mouth, expecting Killian to be there. Awake and watching me. Maybe preparing to use me again. My chest clenched with that strange mixture of fear and want again.
But the other side of the bed only showed mussed sheets and a lingering scent of pine and smoke.
I padded downstairs again, becoming slowly aware of the new aches and sore regions that Killian had made in my body.
There was, of course, my ass, which throbbed with every step I took. It wasn’t a sharp pain, more like a dull flash like when you press on a bruise. It made me remember what it felt like to be filled with Killian’s cock, pinned down like a struggling butterfly as he pounded deep into me. I didn’t know how I was still in one piece. I really thought he’d split me apart with how big and thick he was.
The light from the windows told me that it was evening now. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the morning.
I chuckled bitterly, thinking about the last couple of days. I’d been reduced to an animalistic existence, flitting between sleeping and eating. I was only thinking about surviving, and somehow the thought of things like escaping, and how my family was coping in the outside world seemed very far away.
None of them were there. I couldn’t hear any of the boisterous chatter or laughter that I came to associate with their presence. That gave me a little courage, and I crept into the kitchen. I stole a fistful of goat cheese and some nuts, and ate them quickly with my hands, like a rat waiting for the master of the house to appear at any moment and shoo them away.
Someone did appear a moment later—which confirmed my suspicion that they were paying close attention to my movements—but it was only Derrick, with his peppery stubble and chocolatey eyes.
I knew I couldn’t trust any of them. I’d seen them in action, when they ripped me away from my home. But Derrick was the gentlest of all of them, though that wasn’t saying much.
Even when he took me by force, he was patient.
Very far from Killian’s rough handling earlier. So why were my nipples tightening at the memory of his hands on my slick, wet body?
“I’m just—“
Derrick raised a hand and I fell silent immediately. His expression was grave, which made me anxious.
“Killian and the rest may find your stubbornness attractive now, but they won’t forever,” he warned me, and shook his head when I opened my mouth to speak. “Think about it, Belle. We aren’t asking for much. Only obedience. But if they think you’re too willful to change…it won’t go well. Not just for you, but for any of us. We have a lot riding on you, Belle. We put our faith in you. Please don’t repay us with anger and lies.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, feeling the curling warmth of anger and embarrassment in my stomach. And, worst of all, the sour taste of guilt in my mouth.
Derrick was right—they were treating me well, apart from the times when they used me for their pleasure.
And even that…
“You kidnapped me, remember?” I said forcefully. They were in the wrong, he and his brothers! I was the victim here.
“So what will you do?” he asked, mouth turning down sadly at the corners. “Will you shut us out, give us nothing, until we’re forced to let you go?”
My heart leapt at those words. They never even gave a hint that letting me go was even on their minds.
“Will you do it?” I asked, not bothering to hide how eager I was at the prospect.
“No,” he said, and sighed. His shoulders were bowed, like he was bearing a great weight. “We can never let you go, Belle.”
“Why not?” I pleaded. “I’ll never tell anyone what you did, I promise! I’ll even pretend I don’t remember any of it!”
“That would never be enough,” he said gently, wiping the tears off my face. He looked at the crystal drops on the tip of his finger and held it between my lips. Without quite needing to be told what to do, I sucked his finger into my mouth and tasted the salt. I swallowed, holding his gaze all the while.
“And you know that we can’t let you go, Belle,” he said, gaze boring into my face, “Because you’re so perfect for us.”
“I wish I wasn’t,” I replied shakily.
“Never lie to us, Belle,” he growled, a flash of anger flitting through his face. “We’ll always know.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. Guilt flooded me, though I couldn’t pinpoint the reason until I replayed our conversation in my head.
I said that I didn’t want to be what they wanted and needed…but that was a lie, I had to admit it to myself now, since Derrick had seen right through me.
Their attention, their constant need to have me was intoxicating to me. Maybe it was the easy, possessive way they touched me and held me, like I was something fr
agile and precious, and yet they didn’t hold back when taking pleasure or giving it.
Even caged within Killian’s arms in the afternoon, unyielding as iron bars around me, I didn’t feel trapped. I felt…cherished.
And that scared the shit out of me.
“You haven’t completely accepted it yet,” Derrick said, and he looked marginally more sympathetic now, instead of angry. I was glad. I wanted his approval. I wanted his tenderness, and the approval in his gaze that bathed me like warm sunlight. “But you will. Now come,” he said, and there was something grim in his eyes, “We need to talk.”
I followed him to the living room, heart sinking. I tried asking him what was wrong, but he didn’t reply.
The rest of the men were in the living room. I tried to sit in the space next to Rohan—who didn’t look too welcoming, but it was the only space left—when Killian grabbed me by the waist and put my body on his lap.
“Wha—“ I said, still confused, when I saw Rohan and Gunner glaring at Killian.“I shouldn’t,” I said timidly, sensing something was wrong, and tried to wiggle out of his clutch. But my ass rubbing against the crotch of his jeans wasn’t helping things. I soon felt something rock hard and familiar poking into my cleft, and froze.
“Ready again so soon?” Killian drawled, but he sounded eager.
“Killian,” Derrick said, sounding exasperated, “Stop thinking with your dick. We have important things to discuss. Besides, it’s Rohan’s turn with Belle.”
“He can have her,” Rohan said dismissively. He said had his cold, angry eyes on me, like I was some dirt he’d found on the bottom of his expensive leather shoe. I didn’t know what I’d done to make him hate me so much, but he clearly did. “I don’t know what you expect me to do with…that.”
“I’m not a thing,” I said quietly. Killian’s grip on me loosened somewhat, maybe from surprise.
“No, you’re worse,” Rohan said, mouth twisting. It was an ugly expression on someone so handsome. I felt the urge to swipe my finger over his mouth, smoothen his expression so his face looked pretty again, but I suppressed it. He’d probably bite my finger off if I tried, anyway. “You’re just the daughter of a—“
