Torque

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Torque Page 2

by Skye Callahan


  I ate to cover the taste of my own pussy that lingered on my tongue through every bite.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  Drifting in and out of my own thoughts, which mostly consisted of nasty things I wanted to scream in Colt’s face, I looked down at my plate to take another bite and realized that I had already eaten everything. Then, Colt’s voice shattered my quiet world.

  “I’ll let Isabella in, then we can go clean out your apartment.”

  My apartment. What a thing to forget. At least then I might have clothes that fit—if Colt didn’t end up ripping them all to shreds within a week. I nodded and cleared the table while Colt let the dog in. I was moving on auto pilot and in need of something to keep myself occupied.

  I threw on the only clothes I had—the ones Colt had given me the night before. Car thieving clothes. I felt him staring at every curve on my body when I wore them—not that he didn’t any other time, but somehow wearing clothes he had picked out made it seem more intrusive and intimate. Then, with Isabella curled up on the couch, taking up nearly as much room as Colt had when he’d been stretched out, we headed into town to clean out my rat’s nest of an apartment.

  It was more like a snake pit than a rat’s nest, really. And I was the small animal stupid enough to try and make a home there. Drager House was a ten story apartment building, and from the outside it looked fairly unassuming. Simple, well maintained, and in the perfect price range of a single young girl from out of town who wanted to make a new start.

  Looking back, I knew exactly where it all started. It seemed so simple to me now. The apartments themselves were slightly less appealing than the exterior façade. They showed the true age of the building, but anything had to be a good start. That’s what I believed back then.

  The building manager had come by to check on me while I was moving in. He seemed like a nice, older man, and I assumed that the apartments were his life’s work. That day, he told me about a hotel downtown looking for help at the front desk. Feeling like it was my lucky day, I immediately pulled out my nicest clothes and rushed over to the hotel where I was hired on the spot.

  I had thought of it as my lucky break. A new place to live. A new job to support myself. Everything was working out even better than I had ever imagined. If only I knew then what I had figured out over the last couple of years. They all worked for Devlin—maybe not directly, but he threw them all a bone for helping new girls fall right into his trap. It was all so convoluted and insane, and yet unbelievably simple.

  My apartment hadn’t really changed that much since that day. I barely had more than a few boxes and bags of clothes when I moved in, and over the years, I managed to pick up a cheap couch and a new mattress to replace the futon I got when I moved in. I slowly stocked the kitchen, confident that I was building up a new life, but the blank canvas full of possibilities I saw when I moved in, had become a barren wasteland. A reminder of not only the disappointment I had faced in the city, but everything I left behind for this overrated new beginning.

  I pushed open the apartment door and faced down the empty shell of my life. I didn’t have much to be sentimental about, but abandoning it felt like giving up everything I’d been working so hard for. I grabbed my ID and cards, stuffing them in my jacket pocket. At least I hadn’t been stupid enough to take them to the club. Who knew what the other girls would have done with those when they trashed everything in my locker.

  Colt hovered over me while I began packing up the important bits into two boxes. I had hoped he would wait in the living room—or better yet the car—while I packed up, but there was no shaking him even for a second. When he wasn’t watching intently, he began going through my things on his own. Colt nosing through everything—that was the last thing I needed, but every time I got flustered or tried to redirect him, it only encouraged him to dig deeper in whatever drawer, cupboard, or box had caught his attention.

  Once the boxes were full, I started stuffing my clothes into garbage bags. I didn’t even sort, I just wanted to get it over with and get out before Colt stumbled on something embarrassing, but I couldn’t pack fast enough.

  When I turned around, I found Colt going through the box next to my bed, and I dropped the bag I was working on. “Will you leave shit alone?”

  My heart stuttered, threatening to stop.

  “What does it matter?”

  I went to pull away the box, but he shoved me onto the bed. It cracked and bounced me up uselessly as Colt pulled a Hitachi vibrator from the box.

  My day could not get any more mortifying.

  “So what do you use this for?” He waved it back and forth, then bent to plug it in while I jumped up, trying to wrestle it away.

  It was useless, just like every other attempt at fighting him.

  As usual, he manhandled me, wresting my small body until my back pressed against him, and his arm tightened around my neck.

  He flipped on the Hitachi.

  The loud buzz filled the room as he pressed the powerful vibrator between my legs. My mouth opened but nothing came out. The fucker had set it to high.

  My body tensed, twitched and jerked, trying to find an escape from the overwhelming sensation that traveled up my most sensitive nerves. I clawed at the arm around my neck, but he shoved me face-first into the bed again. When I pushed myself up, a thin black belt came around my neck and tightened. I dug one hand into the bed, the other arm flailed, trying to get at Colt as I struggled for air.

  The belt tightened even more. “Palms on the mattress, and I release you.”

  I didn’t want to listen but, fearing he wouldn’t let me breathe otherwise, I did as he said and allowed him to push me up so I knelt on all fours before he loosened the belt.

  With one hand holding my makeshift “leash,” he reached around and unfastened my pants, pulling them down over my hips and exposing my bare ass.

  This is what I agreed to. I had traded Devlin, his drugs, and the men in his club for this.

  I tried to rationalize it as the lesser of two evils, but rationalizing anything was difficult with a belt around my neck and an extra-strength vibrator buzzing close by.

  Colt pressed the Hitachi against my clit, and I cried out, pulling against the belt and choking myself.

  I had to remain still to prevent the belt tightening against my throat, but my body refused to stop jerking and bucking.

  Finally, Colt took the Hitachi away and I gasped for one good breath of air.

  “What other toys do you have in here?” he asked, and I heard rustling and clacking behind me.

  Mortifying, beyond mortifying. Something pressed at my entrance and slowly a dildo slid inside, filling me. He thrust it inside me a few times.

  I wanted to disappear, to fade into the bedsheets, to melt away and hide. But there was nowhere on this earth I could run from Colt. He repositioned behind me, moving slightly over me before the Hitachi buzzed against my clit again.

  Somehow he was still holding the belt taut around my neck while his two hands worked me. One thrusting the dildo inside me, the other teasing my nerves with the Hitachi. And my mind couldn’t work fast enough to even fathom what he was doing or the terrifying sensations it gave me.

  My muscles spasmed and the explosion built, ready to tear through my body and rip my soul apart. Just as I thought I would collapse, he pulled both toys away and left me there, shaking and painfully close to the edge.

  He switched off the Hitachi and laid it next to me.

  “So close,” he whispered, pushing my hair away from his face and leaning down to look at me. “Remember when I said you’d beg?”

  “I won’t,” I said, even more determined despite the throbbing pain.

  With his left hand, I felt him part my ass cheeks and I tensed up. “No.”

  But he jerked the belt, taking up any slack I had to breathe. “Hands on the bed.”

  I pressed my fists into the mattress, but the panic didn’t fade when he loosened the belt.

&nb
sp; “Ever shove this dildo up your ass?” His voice lilted with curiosity.

  “No.” My voice was shaky. No. No. No fucking way. Anything to make it stop. I considered begging him just so he’d get it over with and I could crawl away and hide—even if it was only temporary.

  “How about a finger?” His words were thick and deep, tinged with growing arousal and excitement that only terrified me further.

  “No.” My answer turned into a whimper as he pressed against my asshole.

  “No. No.” I repeated.

  “Anal virgin, huh?” His finger slipped past the tight muscle and I gasped. He moved it slowly in and out. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as I expected it to. As much as I wanted it to. I didn’t want him to have one more thing over me. To turn one more part of my body against me.

  “Relax,” he said softly. The belt loosened more, but I couldn’t relax.

  He pulled his finger out and the absence left me feeling even more violated, as if he’d taken away something that was supposed to be there. My last shards of dignity were gone—or so I thought. Then, two fingers pressed inside of me, the more he stretched, the more I wanted to fight. Run. I pulled at the belt, not caring that it cut off my air and threatened my life. Blacking out would be better.

  He moaned above me. “I’m going to enjoy sinking my cock in that tight hole.”

  I shook my head. My voice wasn’t even capable of launching an argument. I imagined the searing, ripping pain and agony that would have to accompany something as big as his cock inside a small hole. That fear didn’t even begin to take into account the piercings. No. Fucking. Way.

  He pulled the belt tight again, lifting my head and bending my back into a nearly impossible position, then flipped on the Hitachi. I twisted enough to see that he was holding the end of the belt in his teeth. I thought about jerking it hard enough to get away, but he pressed the Hitachi to my clit and all thought disappeared.

  I grunted, losing control as my hips rocked, pushing his fingers deeper in my ass.

  “No,” I grunted, but sensation overtook me and words turned into meaningless sounds. “Ah—Fuck—Oh….”

  I should be fighting.

  If only I could at least bury my face in the blanket. I stared down at the red striped blanket under me. My best friend during the coldest winter months, and it could do nothing to save me now.

  His fingers left me again. “Any condoms in this toy box?”

  “No,” I grunted through my raw throat. Yet, I was relieved for the first time. I hoped that meant he’d keep his dick caged.

  “Good thing I travel prepared.”

  Fuck.

  The belt cut off my air as he rustled behind me, unzipping his pants. The condom wrapper landed next to me, and he moved to stand behind me.

  “Please, don’t.” I tensed, wanting to curl up into a tight ball with the expectation that he was about to try and rip through my ass.

  “That’s not what I’m working to hear right now.” He smacked my ass, then rubbed the hot, sore skin. I waited for the splitting pain. There was no way his dick and all of its metal accessories would fit there.

  “Roll on your back,” he said.

  I was almost thankful, but now I had to see his face. As I moved, he adjusted the belt around my neck so he could still hold it tight.

  “Hands above your head.” He twisted the belt in warning even though I only hesitated a split second. Then, he ripped my pants off my ankles and forced my legs apart. I expected him to be rough and savage, but he kept one hand at the base of his cock as he slowly pressed inside of me.

  Only a few inches. If that.

  I gasped, pressing my body into the bed so my back wouldn’t arch into the sensations.

  Then, he pulled out.

  In again, just up to where his hand gripped.

  He wasn’t intending to get this over with. He was going to continue teasing until I couldn’t take it anymore. His smirk grew, then he released his cock and pressed the whole length inside of me until it was painfully tight.

  I grunted, squeezing the blanket between my fingers as his hand reached across the bed.

  Not the Hitachi again. My clit felt numb, but he flicked the vibrator on and held it just above my clit, barely touching as he thrust—his movements still slow, controlled, and shallow.

  I wanted to thrust against him. One good thrust, one good rub against the vibrator and I could end this painful pulsing. But I dug my hips into the mattress and focused on the ceiling while he continued above me.

  I fought my own body, and by doing so, I fought the very thing that would get me off and end the torment.

  I wanted to explode.

  To see stars.

  To black out.

  Anything.

  His movements became quicker and more erratic. I waited for the end, hoping that he might take me with him over the edge—and hoping that he wouldn’t at the same time. I couldn’t take it.

  Instead, he pulled back so that only the head of his cock penetrated me and traded the Hitachi for using his hand for his own pleasure. Stroking his shaft while the tip teased me with everything I couldn’t have.

  I stared up at him, trying to hide my bitterness in simply knowing that the damn, fucking asshole was going to come while I suffered. To make things worse, he was going to come because I suffered. He dropped the belt when his mouth fell open, and then, he jerked with the final movement before he climaxed. I couldn’t even fathom how much I hated him.

  My eyes burned with tears, so as soon as I had the opportunity, I rolled away and ran to the bathroom.

  His footsteps came after me.

  Of course, my useless, cheap-ass bathroom didn’t have a lock, and he easily pushed the door open.

  “What?” I yelled, sinking against the tub wall.

  “Making sure you don’t finish yourself.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He was so smug and satisfied.

  “That’d give you far too much pleasure to be worth it.” The tears still fell but only because I was too angry to hold it in. I wanted to pick up the metal toilet paper stand and bash it over his chiseled jaw.

  He cocked his head. “You are going to be more fun than I imagined.”

  “Fuck you, asshole.” I needed to think of some more original things to call him, but my brain was in a fog.

  “So much fun,” he continued grinning.

  Hands fisted, I shook my head and stormed past him to yank on my pants. I had to get some distance before I did something stupid. I grabbed the bag and continued stuffing it with clothes.

  I wouldn’t let him rattle me.

  I wouldn’t.

  But I ached and throbbed.

  “Tell me more about your phone call this morning,” he said.

  I snorted and glared over my shoulder. Five minutes. I just wanted him to shut up for five minutes so I could regroup my thoughts. “Tell me more about how you intend to keep Devlin from coming after me.”

  “I’ll take care of it this afternoon—get him something he wants more.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that what the call was about?”

  That damn call. I was torn between telling him and doing what I was supposed to do. The whole situation—there were no “supposed to’s” or rules that I could make any sense of. Colt was the only ally I knew, as fucked up as that situation was. But if Devlin found out…

  “Fuck off,” I yelled, unable to think of a better comeback. At least it would buy me some time.

  “Just did. It went nicely.” Colt pulled a thong out of a drawer and held it up on his finger before dropping it into the box with the Hitachi. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Who is Aiden?”

  “My brother,” I whispered.

  His smirk faltered.

  “Devlin found him, threatened his five-year-old girl. Either I play his game, or he takes it out on her.” I threw the bag of clothes on the bed and glared at him. “How are you going to fix that?”

  “I’m not. You’re going to play his game
.”

  He said it so simply. The obvious answer. How was I supposed to play both sides of a field I didn’t understand at all?

  Chapter 3

  Devlin using Aubrey’s family for leverage wasn’t surprising. The only shock to me was the news that she had a brother and he hadn’t come up before. I thought my family was fucked up, but what kind of brother let his sister end up in such a mess. It explained the distant ambiguity of their texts, but I could only imagine what had driven them so far apart.

  Aubrey stood across the room blinking her eyes at me as if I was supposed to give her a better solution. As if better solutions existed.

  “What does Devlin want?” I asked.

  “He hasn’t told me.” She looked like a pressure cooker that just blew a seal and expelled all of its energy. There was nothing left. Her voice softened, her body went lax.

  “Why’d you tell me?”

  The tension came back, she fisted her hands and turned her back to me. “I thought it might get you to leave me alone.”

  “What?” I chuckled. Did she really think that playing double agent would put me under her control? “You expect to use it as your own leverage?”

  She looked over her shoulder and grimaced—she hadn’t even thought of that. Amateur. But if it wasn’t that, then why? What did she hope to gain?

  “He’s your brother,” she said, dropping her face toward the floor. She groaned and shoved a handful of clothes into the bag she’d just tossed on the bed. “As we’ve already demonstrated, I suck at this game, and you said you’d get me out. I figure you know how to deal with him better than anyone.”

  “So, there is some strategy in that head.”

  She chucked a shoe at me, but missed by at least a foot, leaving a dent in the wall above her bed. “Stop talking to me like I’m a naïve moron.”

  I brushed the offended shoe to the floor and sat down on the edge of her bed, lounging back against the wall and propping my arms up behind my head. “You did get into quite a mess, darlin’.”

  “So, maybe we can skip pointing out the obvious.” She spun away before I could see the full change in her expression.

 

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