Rapine 3: Retrieved by the Billionaire

by Charlotte Rose

  I grab some articles of clothing and shove them into a small suitcase. I put on a pair of Chanel sunglasses and leave the penthouse. Once on the busy streets of Manhattan, I hail a taxi.

  “Where to, miss?” the driver asks in a strong Mexican accent.

  I instruct him to take me to the bank, where I make a large withdrawal—enough to sustain me for a few weeks. I also buy a prepaid cell phone. Then the taxi takes me to the nearest hotel. I book a room and make my way up to the suite. This is easier than I thought it would be.

  The suite is large and elegant. It has two bedrooms, an office, and a living room. I dial Julian’s number on my new phone, but am taken straight to voicemail. I leave an urgent message and give him my new number.

  I dial room service and have lunch in my suite, expecting Julian’s call. I dial him several more times after lunch, but every time his phone takes me to voicemail.

  That evening, I have dinner in a quiet corner of the hotel’s five-star restaurant. I keep my cell phone with me, anxiously glancing at it every few minutes. After dinner I make my way up to my suite.

  When the elevator doors open on my floor, my eyes widen at the sight of Derek. I push the button to close the doors, but he shoves his hand between them. He enters the elevator and grabs me. I scream as he pins me against the wall and holds me still. He places his hand over my mouth to muffle my screams.

  Derek’s lips lift in a smile that exposes his teeth and chills my blood. “Here is a little piece of advice,” he whispers. “Stay close to me at all times from now on.”

  I squeal as he lifts me and throws me over his shoulder. “Don’t make a fucking sound,” he warns, “or your punishment will be worse than I would like it to be.” He pushes a button to open the elevator doors, strides out, and heads to my suite.

  My heart sinks. There is no escaping him. I have made a huge mistake in assuming that it would be easy. He digs through my leather handbag, pulls out my keycard, and enters the suite. Once inside, he flings me on the couch.

  I struggle to sit up. My heart leaps when I hear the phone in my handbag ringing. Derek pulls it out and looks at the caller ID. He throws the phone against the wall. It smashes to pieces.

  “Who was it?” I ask, trembling.

  “You tell me, Cheryl,” he growls.

  The caller ID must have been blocked.

  Derek stalks over to me and an icy chill courses through my veins. He pulls out his transparent glass cell phone from his inside suit pocket. He makes a call and puts the phone on speaker.

  “I would like you to comprehend how powerful I really am,” Derek says calmly.

  “What may I do for you, sir?” I hear a gruff man’s voice through the speaker.

  “Pinpoint my phone’s location. Delete footage between 8:34 p.m. and 8:36 p.m. from the hotel’s third elevator camera,” Derek says in a commanding tone.

  There are a few minutes of silence and then the man replies, “Done, sir.”

  Derek hangs up. “I have deleted any footage of us inside the elevator. Don’t ask how, just know it has been done.”

  My eyes widen. This is unbelievable. Is that even possible? I guess anything is possible for secret society members with their access to extremely advanced technology.

  “And if you are wondering what would happen if you contacted the authorities, well, shall I tell you or shall you experience it for yourself?” Derek’s eyes blaze and his chest swells.

  “What would happen?” I ask, bewildered.

  He smirks. “Quite simply, they would not believe you.”

  Derek is right. They would probably think that I was insane if I told them my story. I don’t have any visible signs of abuse. Secret society members are above the law anyway. Even if the cops did believe me, I don’t think they could help me.

  Derek takes a seat beside me on the couch. He brushes stray strands of hair from my face. His eyes glimmer. “Now, will you continue to defy me, or are you ready to completely submit to me?”

  I admire his power in this world, but I am deterred by his arrogance and the violent, rude way he behaves himself around me.

  “You may have control over me physically,” I whisper. “But you can’t control my mind or my heart. I love Julian and I will always love Julian.”

  Derek’s eyes flash irately. “That is not important right now. With time, you will love me again,” he declares as he glares at me possessively.

  Arguing with a stubborn, arrogant man is completely pointless. “If you think so,” I respond.

  Derek gets up, grabs my suitcase, intertwines his hands with mine and leads me out of the suite.

  When we arrive home, I come to the full realization that the only way I will get away from him is when Julian comes for me—that is my only hope.

  “You will sleep with me tonight, in my bed, from this point forward, no exceptions,” Derek commands harshly.

  My stomach churns with disgust. I don’t want to be near this man, let alone sleep in his bed with him.

  I follow him into the master bedroom. He places my suitcase down on the floor and I watch as he calmly unpacks my clothing, placing each item back into my walk-in closet. Then he slides out of his pants and boxer-briefs, leaving his black shirt on.

  He strides up to me with an evil glint in his eyes. “As for your punishment, I believe I will enjoy this very much,” he whispers into my ear, his hot breath making me shiver with revolt.

  He tears off my top with such speed and force that I scream. He turns me around, unhinges my bra, and lets it drop to the floor. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist, pressing my back against his chest.

  “You have two options,” he whispers into my ear. “If you struggle, I will only enforce my control over you. If you submit, things will be easier for both of us.”

  “No,” I plead. I can’t believe it has come to this. I would never have imagined that Derek was capable of treating me this way.

  His hands move up my waist, toward my breasts. I try to escape his grasp, but he holds me tightly against his chest. He cups my breasts in his hands and squeezes.

  “Now, tell me this—do you love me?” he whispers into my ear.

  “I’ve told you already,” I respond. “I love Julian.”

  “Answer me clearly, yes or no,” Derek insists.

  “No, I don’t love you anymore,” I whisper.

  “Really, that doesn’t matter anymore,” he hisses. “You betrayed my trust by fucking Julian when you were engaged to me. You made a commitment to me and you broke it.”

  I begin to speak but Derek places a hand over my mouth. “Shhh. For what you have done, I will never forgive you. Therefore, for what I’m about to do, I understand if you never forgive me.”

  I scream, but his palm muffles my protests. Tears flow down my cheeks as he forces me onto the bed, pinning me down with his body weight. With one hand he holds my hands over my head. With his other hand he continues undressing me until I am naked.

  This is not role-play anymore. This is real life and I am terrified. I recall the ravishment role-play that I enjoyed so much with Julian. Now, as Derek enters me, my mind drifts away. Derek is right. I will never forgive him for this.

  I close my eyes as my mind numbs, trying to disassociate from what is happening to me. It’s almost like my brain shuts off. A man I once loved and trusted has turned into a monster. At one point in time, he made love to me. Now, as my ears register the sound of his primal grunts, it’s only about his pleasure, not mine.

  When he finishes, he collapses beside me, breathing heavily. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. After his breathing steadies, he falls asleep.

  I stare at the ceiling for a long time, trying to forget what has just happened. After a while my eyes close and I drift off into a light, restless sleep, tossing and turning the entire night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  In the morning, I awaken to the feel of Derek’s fingers against my face. I cringe at his touch. I blink several times to clear the
fog of sleep, then gaze up at him. He glares at me, silent.

  Sleep has only strengthened my negative outlook toward him. He reaches to touch my face again, but I move away and sit up. “Don’t touch me,” I snap. He freezes.

  I am naked, so I raise the beige silk covers over my breasts. He is also naked, with a throbbing morning hard-on.

  “It’s the best feeling—seeing your beautiful face and naked body in my bed and knowing they’re all mine again,” he says, his eyes flashing with lust. He glances at his intricate skeleton wristwatch. “Since you are now awake and I still have time....” His voice trails off as he pulls me under him.

  “Stop,” I snarl. “Get off me.”

  “You know I don’t appreciate your feisty attitude. I won’t let you go until I’ve fucked you,” he says, holding me underneath him firmly.

  He slips his cock inside me and begins to move. I squirm and try to push him off, to no avail. My fists beat at his chest, but his body is like a large, unmovable rock—impossibly firm, hard, and heavy.

  His every thrust jolts my body. I feel weak from the struggle. Finally I succumb to the feeling of helplessness. My hands fall limp at my sides.

  He moves fast and hard, ramming inside me, exhaling and inhaling deeply. His balls smack against my rear with each thrust. He fucks me like an animal—furious, rough, wild.

  He grits his teeth and with one final thrust, I feel a massive explosion of hot seed. He groans loudly as his liquid shoots deep, warming my stomach.

  He grinds his hips and grunts as he continues injecting me with his semen. I feel like nothing more than his cum dumpster.

  His length softens. He pulls out and collapses beside me. I regain my composure and strength, then lift myself from the bed.

  My insides are drenched with thick globs of Derek’s semen. When I stand, it drips out of me and trickles down my thighs. His semen continually drips out of me as I take a shower.

  When I finish I enter my closet. As I dress, Derek comes in with a satisfied grin. He is fully dressed, wearing a posh black suit, white shirt, and black tie. In any other circumstance I would find him extraordinarily handsome, but now I am repulsed by him.

  “You are on birth control, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes,” I lie through gritted teeth. It will take a few months before my baby bump shows and by then Julian will surely come.

  “Good,” Derek says. “How soon after Julian abducted you did you fuck him?”

  I scowl and start to walk away but Derek grabs my arm.

  “Answer me,” he roars.

  “No, leave me alone,” I shout.

  “Julian is not the type of man to settle down. He may have agreed to marry you to spite me, but once he’s had enough of you, he would dispose of you like he has every other woman he has been with,” Derek sneers, his eyes blazing.

  “Shut up. You know nothing about Julian,” I screech.

  “On the other hand, I’m a one-woman man. I was loyal to you from day one,” Derek says, squeezing my arm tightly.

  “Let me go, you’re hurting me,” I whine as I try to free my arm. He loosens his grip.

  “I’ve given you everything you could ever want, you fucking bitch,” he snarls.

  I free my arm and walk away. He snatches me from behind and pulls me against his chest. “Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you,” he says, growling low into my ear.

  “At least Julian didn’t force himself on me,” I shout as I struggle to get away.

  Derek spins me around to face him. Anger emanates off him like a force field, his eyes narrowing. “Fucking ungrateful bitch. I could lock you up in one of the guest bedrooms and not let you out. I’m allowing you the freedom that you do not deserve.”

  “I’m not free. If I was free, then I would walk away from you and never come back.”

  He swings his arm and I hear the loud smack of his palm meeting my cheek. For a moment I am stunned. I reach up to calm the sting that has erupted on the left side of my face.

  I peer at him through my lashes. His face displays unapologetic anger. I am dumbfounded and shocked—I’ve never been hit by a man before.

  He straightens his suit and sleeves, his eyes laser-focused on me. “I’m sorry I had to do that.” His tone softens. “I’ve never done that before, but you have pushed me to my limit.”

  He pulls me toward him, embracing me in his arms. “I want you to listen to me from now on.” He kisses the top of my head. A few tears drip from the corner of my eyes.

  He pulls me away and examines me. “It’s not that bad; we just need to focus on our future together, and forget the past. What’s done is done.”

  I lower my head, but he lifts my chin so that my eyes meet his. “I have to go to work, but we will discuss this when I return.”

  “There is nothing to discuss,” I grumble. “I fucking hate you so much.” I speak with no restraint. It’s like I want to return his slap with a verbal blow.

  His mouth twists and he remains still as he contemplates his next move. I swallow as his eyes darken. “I have great authority over you, and it would not be wise to displease me,” he warns.

  He glances at his wristwatch. “I have to go.”

  He walks away and leaves me alone with my thoughts. I relax as silence surrounds me, a peaceful and comforting moment away from Derek’s presence.

  As I sit at the kitchen island, eating breakfast and sipping on a cup of green tea, I feel trapped—even more trapped than when Julian held me captive.

  I consider what to do with my day. I glance at the time on the television in the kitchen; it’s 7:22 a.m. It’s set on the local news channel. An attractive lady discusses the latest murder case in Manhattan.

  I lift my hand to my cheek. It still burns badly, so I search the kitchen cabinet for Advil. I find numerous medications that weren’t there before. I study the labels. It looks like Derek has been taking anabolic steroids. I glance farther back into the cabinet and find a large plastic bag of unlabeled white pills.

  Derek must have self-medicated so that he would become faster and stronger, and be able to defeat Julian. As much as I hate him now, I feel pity that he has resorted to drugs in order to obtain me back.

  My curiosity sparked, I search every kitchen cabinet to see what else I can find. The rest of the cabinets contain nothing of interest, so I search Derek’s walk-in closet. On one side his suits are neatly arranged on hangers. On the other side there are drawers and space for his many designer shoes.

  I start my search and gasp when I open a large drawer and see a variety of plastic bags and pill bottles. I’ve uncovered every type of CNS stimulant drug imaginable. I find a large bag of cocaine, as well as different types of amphetamines and methamphetamines. The drawer also contains common date rape drugs: MDMA, GHB, rohypnol, ketamine.

  Why would Derek have these? No way will I let him use any of this garbage on me. I flush his collection of drugs down the toilet, then wash my hands in the sink as I consider how different Derek has become.

  I spend the rest of my day in the kitchen, watching the news and flipping through magazines on my transparent glass tablet. I’m trying to distract myself, but all I can think about is how trapped I feel. Derek has disabled Internet access on all my electronic devices. I am imprisoned and helpless.

  As the evening approaches, I become anxious. Derek will be home soon, and I don’t know how he’ll react when he discovers that I’ve flushed away his pill collection.

  Suddenly a news items grabs my attention. A family of four is asking for help as their fourteen-year-old daughter has been abducted. The newscasters are discussing a similar case from last year in which a man kept several women in his home and raped them repeatedly. He was eventually apprehended and is now behind bars.

  I am in the exact same situation, though mine is disguised by beautiful surroundings and a successful, good-looking man.

  Derek appears in the kitchen, startling me. He glances at the television.
<
br />   “What are you watching?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I respond. I look at the time on the television. It’s already 8:53 p.m.

  “Shall we head out to dinner, or would you like a quiet meal at home?” Derek asks the question kindly, as though everything is back to normal.

  “I’m not hungry,” I respond, but then remember the baby. I know I can’t skip meals. “Whatever you want.”

  “Let’s go out, then,” he replies.

  He leaves and emerges a few moments later dressed in a sharp, dark grey dinner suit.

  In the limo on the way to the restaurant, Derek offers me a flute of champagne. I push away the flute.

  “Cheryl, why have you been avoiding alcohol?” he asks suspiciously.

  “I don’t want any,” I respond.

  He offers me the glass again. “Please, I insist.” When I don’t take it, his lips tighten and his eyes blaze. “Have it your way,” he says.

  By the time we reach the restaurant, he has finished drinking my flute of champagne. At dinner, Derek lets me get whatever meal I want. He also orders a bottle of red wine.

  The waiter pours Derek a glass. When Derek approves of the selection, I put my hand over my own glass. “Nothing for me, thank you.” The waiter respectfully nods and strides away.

  If Derek is upset, he is restraining himself well. We receive our meals and begin to eat. Throughout dinner, Derek comments on the food and music, and discusses his wine preferences. He behaves in an intelligent and sophisticated manner that would impress any woman on a first date with him.

  Back in the limo Derek again offers me a flute of champagne. “Have some,” he says softly as he wraps an arm around me. “It will help you relax and sleep better.”

  I push the flute away. “No.”

  “I hope you are not pregnant,” he says in a suspicious tone.

  “You come to conclusions so fast,” I say. “I don’t want to drink with you simply because I don’t want to be around you.”