Rapine 3: Retrieved by the Billionaire

by Charlotte Rose

  “You look lovely, Cheryl,” he says, admiring my body with lust-filled eyes.

  I feel awkward under his scrutinizing gaze. It pains me to be around him, but my stomach grumbles in ravenous hunger.

  “Sit down, darling, and have some breakfast,” Derek says warmly.

  He looks striking in a lavish black suit, white shirt, black tie, and glittering Hublot skeleton wristwatch. As I take in his handsome appearance it reminds me of why I had loved him in the past. He has a wide, angular jaw, super-short jet-black hair, tanned skin, and chiseled features. I also realize that he has a strong magnetism about him that is hard to resist. He projects an authoritative, masculine aura as a wealthy, confident, testosterone-fueled alpha male.

  Tentatively I sit beside him and my eyes meet his. He takes my hand gently, raising it to his mouth. He slowly kisses the back of my hand as if savoring it. He has a relaxed, self-assured vibe. I shiver as I consider how much he reminds me of Julian—an older version of Julian, with brown eyes instead of blue.

  The maid places our breakfasts before us. We begin to eat.

  “I’ve cleared my schedule for today. I’d like to spend the day with you, Cheryl.” Derek regards me lovingly.

  My heart leaps into my throat. The last thing I want to do is spend time with him, but I try to maintain my composure. “What would you like to do?” I ask as I gaze into his glimmering eyes.

  “I’ve planned a whole day for you. I intend on us having a good time,” he says with a hint of excitement.

  He takes my hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’m so glad to have you back.”

  “I don’t want to spend time with you.” I yank my hand away from his.

  “That is not your decision to make,” he says, sounding angry. His jaw clenches and his piercing brown eyes glare at me with possessive dominance. My instincts tell me there is no use arguing with him.

  “Our private driver is waiting,” Derek informs me. “Get ready.”

  I put on a pair of Louis Vuitton pumps, grab my Gucci purse, and follow Derek out of the penthouse. We head downstairs via our private elevator and into the large, white marble lobby of our building. We exit through the large, heavy glass doors and emerge onto the noisy, busy streets of Manhattan.

  Derek’s driver opens the back door of the limo and I slide in. My heart thumps with nervousness. Derek sits beside me.

  All I can think about is Julian—how much I miss him and how hopeful I am that at any minute he will appear.

  Derek inches closer as though we were on a second date. I look away from him and out the window. I watch the crowds of people moving about on the streets as we drive through the bustling city.

  “You’re mine again,” Derek whispers into my ear. “I will never let you go.” I feel him slip a ring onto my finger. I look down and see a 12-carat engagement ring.

  I glance at Derek and he beams. “To replace what was lost,” he explains. “Better than the first.”

  The engagement ring is stunning—an emerald-cut diamond micro-pave halo. However, I desperately want it off my finger. I’m sure it’s extremely expensive, but it means nothing to me coming from him.

  “Don’t you like it?” Derek asks.

  I glance up at him and put on a fake smile. “Sure, it’s beautiful.”

  His lips compress and his forehead wrinkles. He examines me and appears to be deep in thought.

  Does he really think he can buy back my love? I turn away from him and look out the window for the rest of our drive.

  We arrive at the entrance to Central Park. Derek steps out of the limo and offers his hand. I take it and step out, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. I grab my belly and recall the baby. Realization hits me like a brick. This can’t be happening. Julian and I should be together, preparing for the arrival of our child.

  “Are you okay, Cheryl?” Derek sounds alarmed.

  “I’m fine,” I mumble.

  Derek twines his hand though mine and we walk through the park. It’s a warm summer day, with a pleasant breeze that blows through my hair.

  “It was just about a year ago that I proposed to you here. Do you remember?” he asks as he tightens his grip on my hand.

  “Yes, I remember.” Why does he think recollecting our memories together will change everything?

  We walk through the beautiful park in silence, passing joggers, mothers with strollers, and a few couples holding hands.

  It is such a revolting feeling, being forced to spend time with someone you really don’t want to be around. Time is a valuable commodity that can never be regained. The time that I spend with Derek I’d rather be spending with Julian.

  We stop by a small bridge over a lake. I spot two swans swimming in unison. Derek steps behind me, pressing his chest against my back, holding me tight.

  We gaze over the glimmering water, taking in the view of high-rises farther beyond. One of my favorite things about New York is Central Park.

  We continue walking, holding hands and gazing at the scenery around us.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he says softly.

  “Yes,” I mutter.

  Suddenly he stops, pulls me into his arms, and holds me close. He leans in for a kiss. I quickly turn my head away.

  “Cheryl,” he rumbles, grabbing my head and turning it so that I’m facing him. I see fury flashing in his eyes.

  A few people walk past us as Derek grips me tightly. He puts his mouth to my ear. “You’re mine. Don’t you understand that?”

  I push myself out of his arms. “No, I can’t do this,” I cry out.

  He straightens out his suit in a quick, smooth motion as if to calm himself. “Let’s go home then,” he says with irritation in his voice. I follow behind him as he hurries out of the park to where the limo is parked.

  The limo driver opens the back door and we climb in. Derek and I sit away from each other in the black leather backseat, both staring out of our windows in silence. Occasionally I glance at him, but he has pulled away from me in both body and mind.

  We arrive at his penthouse and he leads me into the living room. “Have a seat,” he commands in an icy voice.

  I plop down on the white Barcelona couch near the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Manhattan skyline. Derek sits beside me as I gaze out the window.

  “Look at me,” he instructs firmly.

  I turn to face him. His brown eyes portray annoyance and displeasure.

  “You will do as I say from now on, whether you like it or not,” he says in a tone sharp as knives. “We will start with some ground rules. No email or telephone. You will dine with me every evening and after we eat dinner you will spend time with me. Do you understand?” He glares at me, waiting for my response.

  I don’t say a word as I stare at his stern, hostile face for a while. Resentment brews inside me. I glance away from him and out the window, wishing I could just magically and instantaneously be transported away from him.

  I squeal when he grabs my face, painfully squeezing my jaw as he turns my visage toward him. “Do you fucking understand?” he rumbles, his voice reverberates around the massive penthouse.

  I remain silent, unable to believe how quickly his manner has changed from just this morning. He is glaring at me with rage-filled eyes.

  “I have no tolerance for such disrespectful behavior, especially after all I have gone through to obtain you back. Now, for the last time, do you understand the rules?”

  “Yes,” I respond dutifully.

  “Good,” he says coolly, removing his hand from my face. “Your phone,” he commands, holding out his palm. I dig into my Gucci purse and hand him my transparent glass cell phone. He gets up and leaves.

  It is late afternoon. I head to the guest bedroom for a nap. Any means of temporary escape will have to do for now.

  I awaken when I hear a knock on the door. I gaze out the window. It’s dark outside. I must have slept for a few hours. Derek enters.

  “Get up and get ready for dinn
er,” he says coldly.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Whether you eat or not, I want you to accompany me at dinner. This is not a request, it is a command.”

  “And what if I don’t join you for dinner?” I ask, testing him.

  He rips the silk bed covers off me and throws them on the floor. “Up now. I will not tell you again.” He turns and strides away.

  I make my way to the master bedroom and into my closet. I really should move some of my clothing into the guest bedroom, where I plan on remaining until Julian comes for me.

  Immediately, I am saddened when I think of Julian. When will he come? Where is he this minute? What is he doing?

  I grab some articles of clothing and a few pairs of shoes, then return to the guest bedroom, where I place them in the closet. I put on a pair of black pants and a red top.

  I make my way into the dining room and sit across from Derek at the table. “Glad you have joined me, darling,” he says, as though I have voluntarily chosen to spend time with him.

  The maid brings plates of food and a bottle of red wine. She pours Derek a glass. He swirls the wine expertly, smells it, and takes a sip. “Perfect.”

  The maid rushes over to my side and pours me a glass.

  “I don’t want any,” I protest.

  Derek shoots his eyes at me as though I have committed a terrible crime. Fury crosses his face and his body stiffens.

  The maid has stopped pouring the wine into my glass.

  “She will have wine,” Derek says, deceptively calm. “Fill her glass.”

  The maid glances at him, nods her head, and fills my glass, then disappears into the kitchen.

  “Drink,” Derek orders.

  “I told you I don’t want any,” I say, holding my ground.

  “Then you will drink it later,” he says, turning his attention to his plate.

  I look down at my own food and feel a pang of hunger. I remember the baby. I need to eat, if only for the baby’s sake. I end up eating everything from off my plate.

  The maid returns to take away our empty plates.

  “That’s all for today,” Derek tells the maid. He gazes at me, smiles, and takes a sip of wine. “Have some, Cheryl. It’s really a fantastic vintage.”

  I get up, head into the kitchen, and pour my glass of wine down the sink. I return to the dining room, show him the empty glass, and place it defiantly on the table. “I’ve poured in down the drain. I’m going to bed. Good night.”

  Derek’s face crinkles with indignation. He rises so fast that the dark wood dining table topples over. The wine glasses and the bottle shatter loudly, spilling red wine and scattering thousands of shards of glass onto the white quartz floors.

  He rushes toward me before I can react. I scream with shock and terror when he grabs me and shoves me hard against the wall. He slams his fist into the wall right beside my head, only a couple of inches from my face.

  “Fucking bitch,” he roars, his hot breath and specks of spit blasting across my face. “I will not tolerate your attitude.”

  I flinch and close my eyes, trembling with fear.

  He puts his warm, wet mouth on my ear and whispers, “I’m going to take you now.”

  He picks me up, slings me over his shoulder and stalks upstairs as I pound my fists on his back, trying to escape. My stomach is in knots and I’m screaming for him to stop. This can’t be happening.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Derek carries me into the master bedroom, locks the door, hurls me onto the king-sized bed and gets on top of me. If this were Julian, I would be turned on beyond belief.

  “No, stop, get off me!” I scream at the top of my lungs, pushing with all my strength at his firm, broad chest and squirming underneath him.

  Derek violently tears off all my clothing. He rips off my bra and panties with such force that I screech. Tears well up in my eyes and cascade down my cheeks.

  “Derek, stop,” I beg. “Please don’t do this.”

  I pray that at any moment, Julian will rush through the door and throw Derek off me.

  “I will do as I please with you,” Derek spits. “I will waste no more time. I have wasted enough time and energy to get you back and I will not endure your resistance to me any longer.”

  “Please, Derek. I just need time,” I whine, trying to reason with him. I have never seen this side of him. It’s as though as soon as he retrieved me, he’s turned into a completely different man.

  Tears continue to flood from my eyes as he inserts two fingers inside me and moves them rhythmically fast and hard against my g-spot. I close my eyes as I try to fight the climax that I feel building up.

  My body tenses with each stroke of his fingers. My core clenches tight. His fingers hit harder against my g-spot. Suddenly, my body releases with a powerful orgasm that causes me to spasm uncontrollably.

  I moan loudly and tremble as ripples of pleasure pass through me. His fingers slow their pace, gently massaging my g-spot. The blissful, satisfying high of my orgasm fades, only to be replaced by feelings of immense relaxation.

  I open my eyes, and look up into his dark face. I feel angry at my body for betraying me and giving him what he wants—me quivering underneath him.

  He grins salaciously, appearing satisfied with himself. He lifts himself off me, then takes off his black pants and boxer-briefs.

  I get up and rush across the gigantic bedroom to the door, turn the 24-karat-gold handle, but Derek grabs me by the waist, lifts me, and slings me over his shoulder.

  “I have to claim what’s mine,” he says in a deep, triumphant voice.

  He slams me down onto the bed, his eyes burning. He grabs my ankles, forces my legs open, and positions himself on top of me. With one hard thrust he plunges all the way into my canal. His dick hits the back of my inner wall. He begins pounding my insides in a rushed, beastly rhythm.

  I cry as he fucks me with all his strength. He doesn’t care about my pleasure, he is only interested in getting his release and depositing his seed into me.

  His lower body smacks loudly against mine as he thrusts ruthlessly. Rushes of air escapes through his gritted teeth. I feel the flex and pull of his firm abdominal muscles as he grinds against my body.

  He stiffens against me and I know I am about to be filled. He exhales deeply as many months’ worth of hot fluid gushes up into my canal and warms my belly. The sound of his satisfied grunts fill my ears.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Take all the cum I have to give you.”

  His copious cum continues to stream up into my belly until he has completely emptied his balls. I have never felt so full, so completely filled to the brim.

  He rolls off me, inhaling and exhaling deeply. I stand up and walk toward the door, feeling Derek’s sperm leak out of my canal and trail down my thighs. Derek quickly rushes after me and pulls me against his chest.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” he growls.

  “I hate you,” I yell, tears spilling uncontrollably from my eyes.

  He shoves me onto my knees onto the cold, hard, white quartz floors. I stare with disgust at his limp cock, at its protruding veins and the balls hanging heavy and full below it.

  He grabs my head with both hands and forces his cock into my mouth. My first thought is to bite down and tear off his dick, but a powerful survival instinct stops me. I am at his mercy and he is much stronger than I am. One of his large, hefty hands could grab my delicate, small neck and choke me in an instant, or shove me against the wall and crush my skull.

  His cock hardens and goes deeper inside my mouth. I let his hands direct my movements, bobbing my head up and down along his thick shaft. He moans in approval and directs my head to move faster as he thrusts into my throat.

  My mind mocks him. At least he is not that big—Julian is way bigger.

  He propels his hips, fucking my mouth and groaning loudly. He directs my head faster with his hands, matching the speed with his hips. He gives one final, deep thrust that c
ompletely embeds his cock down my throat, and I feel his heavy balls swing and hit my chin as he releases salty, hot fluid into my mouth. The cum drains down my throat and I have no choice but to swallow it, even though I feel like gagging and spitting it out.

  He groans with satisfaction and finally pulls away, lifts his now flaccid cock, and wipes it across my face to clean off the remains. I scoff as I rub my lips and chin with the back of my hand, wiping away the sticky semen deposited on my face.

  “That was very good,” he says. “You may go now.”

  I make my way to the guest bedroom. My pulse pounds. I fucking hate him. I slam the door and head to the en suite bathroom. I feel gross and sticky all over, and I just want to take a long, hot shower.

  After my shower, I don’t feel any better, but at least I feel refreshed and clean. The expensive body wash I used has left a pleasant rose and lavender scent on my skin.

  I put on a red Agent Provocateur silk-satin camisole and matching panties, then slide into bed. I slam my eyes shut and sigh. It hurts to think that I’d ever thought of Derek as anything other than a monster.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I wake to the pleasant feel of warm sun rays on my skin. The bright, blinding white sunlight pours in through the floor-to-ceiling window. I sit up in bed and groan. I wish I didn’t have to face Derek.

  I drag myself out of bed and pull on a pair of grey pants and a long-sleeved black silk top. If I could wear a burqa to hide my body from Derek I would, but this outfit will have to do.

  I take a deep breath and leave the guest bedroom. I heave a sigh of relief when Derek is not in the kitchen or the dining room. I prepare myself eggs Benedict and eat in peace at the kitchen island.

  After breakfast, I traverse several hallways and up a staircase to check Derek’s home office. I try to open the door, but it is locked. I knock and wait, but hear nothing. Perhaps he is not home.

  I head into my walk-in closet to search though my various purses, and finally find my old wallet inside my Saint Laurent black leather handbag. I also find my bank card. I berate myself for not trying to escape sooner. Derek may have a tracking device inside me, but he doesn’t have the power to walk through walls.