His Devil's Wish

by Linzi Basset

“I hope for your sake that Prince Khalid won’t be asking for her services soon. You know she’s one of his favorites. I don’t suppose he’d be happy to find her incapable of seeing to his needs.”

  “Hah, as if it would stop him,” Mohammed sneered. “The more pain they’re in, the better for his failing testosterone.”

  They walked past the alcove where Sean was hiding without detecting him. His jaw was clenched so hard, he could hear his teeth grind. He’d been searching for the sex slaves for the last three months. Finally, they had proof to clamp down on the human trafficking syndicate. Sean waited until the two men disappeared, before he walked quietly to the back of the building where he’d stumbled across the group of girls in chains; naked and vulnerable to the humiliation and pain the men inflicted on them.

  “Fuck! I shouldn’t have gone so far,” he cursed when he found the room empty. The smell of sex and blood permeated the air. His stomach heaved at the memory of what he’d witnessed not so long ago. They were obviously locked away in a different location.

  A trail of blood caught his eye. It led to a door on the other side of the room. He skirted the room hiding in the shadows against the walls. The door creaked open; the sound was like a blast of gunpowder in the silence. Sean froze and listened but couldn’t detect any sound in the dark hallway.

  Sean was proud of the work he did. Protecting human lives and the country he’d come to love, made him feel like he’d achieved something worthwhile. In the beginning, when he’d been recruited into Special Forces, he’d questioned the importance of their missions. Some had felt menial while others reeked with danger. Over the years he’d come to realize that it was all a part of his training. To teach him to always be on guard, never to become complacent. Getting caught was a danger a field spy faced every day―like now. He couldn’t afford anyone questioning his identity. If Khalid found him prowling around the restricted compound, he would be severely tortured.

  “Death in this fucking country would probably be a blessing should that happen,” Sean mumbled under his breath as he quickly walked through the door. “Fuck me,” he intoned. The short landing led to a stone stairway underground. His hesitated before setting off, treading lightly.

  The winding staircase took him deeper into the bowels of the earth. His steps slowed when he saw a sliver of light. He flattened his back against the wall and took the final steps on his toes. The air smelled dank and the silence was thick. He closed his eyes and concentrated; a faint sound of a girl crying, a crunch of footsteps on stone, the jiggle of keys.

  “One. There’s only one guard.”

  Another sound penetrated. Someone was coming down the stairs.

  “Fucking hell,” Sean whispered. He took a deep breath and stepped into a cavernous room with rows of prison cells; the knife ready in his hand. A door to the one side stood open and he slipped inside—moments before the footsteps reached the landing.

  “Butros! Mohammed says one of the whores requires medical attention,” the newcomer shouted.

  “Yeah, over here. The bitch has been bawling nonstop.”

  Sean clutched the knife tighter and pressed against the wall behind the door.

  “I have ten minutes to get her quiet. The prince and his entourage are coming to inspect them for the upcoming trip to the desert. He’s going to select the ones he’ll be selling to Sheikh Jamahl.”

  Sean listened to his footsteps coming deeper into the winding hallway. When his footsteps moved in a different direction, Sean estimated there were various hallways leading off the main one.

  They must be keeping hundreds of women prisoners here. Sean had to force himself to remain hidden. It served no purpose to rush to the women’s rescue right now. Not until he had a foolproof way to get them out of the country.

  “Fuck! Who did this? The prince specifically wanted to offer this one to the Sheikh at top dollar. He’s going to be furious,” the newcomer exclaimed.

  “Who do you think? Mohammed is a cruel fucker. Because he’s the prince’s confidant, he thinks he’s untouchable,” Butros snorted.

  “This time he’s gone too far. Hold her down. I need to see what I can do to salvage her in some way before the prince arrives.”

  Sean cursed and with the girl’s screams in his ears, he ran up the stairs. He pushed his legs hard. He had to get upstairs and out of the building before the prince and his hordes of guards arrived. If they found him there, he was a dead man.

  He made it to the large room where the girls had been tortured and raped, when he heard the boisterous laughter of approaching men.

  “Jesus!” His exclamation echoed through the acoustics of the room. He glanced around. He dove behind the space between the wall and the bed that was elevated with stone steps, moments before they entered the room.

  “Rasha and Tariq come with me. The rest of you stay here and make sure no one enters,” Prince Khalid ordered.

  “As if anyone would dare come here,” Mohammed said once the prince had left.

  “It’s a prison, Mohammed. A whore’s prison. It’s not been used as a commune since the prince started selling sex slaves,” another voice piped up.

  Sean cringed and crawled under the stone bench, as deep as he could when the voices came closer. He felt the spike of adrenaline shoot through him and his heart banged wildly against his ribs as he sensed some of the men lounging on the beds and others on the worn sofas that were placed around the room.

  Real life was different than all the movies. If caught, it usually ended badly. Under extreme torture, anyone would break and talk. That’s why none of them were given any information about the rest of the team and their operations. All they were privy to was what was vital to their specific mission.

  Sean listened to their banter with growing annoyance and anger. They were boasting about their sexual prowess; what a joke. Torturing women sexually was a sign of a man’s weakness as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t long before the prince bellowed out Mohammed’s name as he came charging up the stairs.

  “You fucking ruined her. Now, she’s worthless to me. You just cost me a lot of money, Mohammed,” he roared furiously.

  “Prince Khalid, I’m sorry. I was not—no! Prince Khalid, what are you—”

  Adrenaline sharpened his senses. Sean held his breath, straining to make sense of what was happening in the room.

  The gunshots echoed in the quiet of the room. He jerked at the unexpectedness of it. The noise reverberated in Sean’s ears and rang hollow around him.

  Mohammed’s tortured screaming was the only sound in the room once the echo of the shot died away.

  “You might be my confidant, Mohammed but you got way too cocky. Damaging my property? You should’ve known better. Now, you will forever be reminded of your mistake.” Khalid’s voice was sharp. “You will be an example for anyone who feels it’s their right to demand power. I’m the ruler and only I can offer that privilege. Now, you will forever be reminded of your disrespect as others laugh at your dick-less crotch.”

  Sean bit back a chuckle when he realized that Khalid had shot Mohammed in his cock. Two rounds meant there would be nothing left. He hadn’t done it for the right reasons, but at least the fucker Mohammed got his comeuppance for torturing the poor girl.

  He stayed hidden, on his back, until he heard them leave in their vehicles, before he quickly made his way to where he’d hidden the horse. He was pensive. There had to be a way to get those women out of the country before he had to accompany the prince and the Arabian stallions to the US. Once he left, the opportunity would be gone too. Unless Governor White figured out another way to get them out. Now that he had their location, it made their task much easier.

  “But it also means I won’t be able to help Jaxon get back to his father. Fuck, how unfair is fate at times?”

  Chapter Eight

  “Dr. Brodie? What are you doing here?”

  Paige stared at the imposing man in disbelief; like he was an apparition.

  “How d
id you know where I lived?” She asked in a husky voice. Her stomach twisted in a knot when his eyes narrowed to slits.

  Keep your cool, Paige. Don’t let him know how his presence excites you.

  Ethan's first reaction to her continued pretense was anger. He wondered irritably how much longer she was going to play this game. He flicked through his memory to the moment during the meeting at Precision Secure, when he’d seen the flash of realization in her eyes. Did she know that he was onto her?

  He stared intently at her. He noted innocent denial in her eyes while at the same time, her body tensed like she was hovering on the brink of panic. Her shallow breathing was the final sign that gave her away.

  Oh, yes. The deceitful little rosebud knows.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in . . . Paige,” Ethan drawled.

  Paige blinked at the deliberate hesitation before her name. She cringed, wondering how to keep the stratagem in place without appearing like a complete fool. She’d been trying to pretend that she didn’t have intimate knowledge of this man. His presence alone had the ability to turn her body into a seductive vessel of lustful demand. It was something she had to battle with every day at work while she yearned to let loose and jump his bones whenever he was near. Wariness crept into her eyes like a thief in the night, threatening to yank her composure from her grasp.

  “I . . . er,” she stammered when the space between them narrowed as he stepped over the threshold.

  “Dr. Brodie, what are you—”

  She backtracked as Ethan prowled closer, tracking her step-for-step. The door closed behind him with an ominous click. Paige licked her lips nervously and backed up farther to keep a safe distance between them. He appeared bigger and even more compelling than he usually did at the club.

  In front of her was Master Apollo, in full Dom mode and he was out for blood—her blood.

  She could feel the excitement thrill through her while her heart smacked hard against her chest in a frisson of fear at the evil glimmer she detected in his golden gaze. She stared in fascination as his one eyebrow arched higher.

  “Really, Paige? How much longer do you wish to continue with this game?”

  Paige suppressed the shudder of exhilaration at the dangerous stillness of his aura. He leaned forward like a predator, ready to pounce.

  A smile found its way across his face when her breathing quickened. She licked her lips slowly . . . unconsciously, while her eyes brightened into a swirling mass of molten gun-metal gray.

  Her blushing cheeks spiked his breathing.

  Goddamn, even as deceitful as she is at this moment, she’s dynamite—hot as fuck.

  Ethan kept pursuing her until she was pressed against the island counter in the middle of the open plan kitchen. She lifted her hands to keep him at bay, but it was fruitless. His hard chest captured them between their bodies.

  “I don't know what you mean,” she sputtered. She tried her best to keep her mind together. Having him so intimately pressed against her, in her own house, was more than she’d ever dreamed of.

  “Don't you?” He drawled. “Tell me, Paige, do I look like an idiot?”

  “Of course not,” she puffed as he pushed her upper body backward. Her eyes opened wide. Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth in the same endearing show of excitement she portrayed at the club when he challenged her.

  His blood began to sing in his veins. His aroused cock strained against his pants in eager anticipation.

  “No? Well, then your memory must be failing,” he said cryptically. He traced her cheek with a long finger to end in a tap against the lip that was turning blue under the pressure of her teeth. “I don’t like you abusing this pouty lip of mine, Paige.”

  Her breath exploded in a loud puff. Her pupils dilated along with the quickening of her breath.

  “Y-your lip?” she lilted softly.

  “You forgot so easily, Paige? Hm?”

  “I . . . you . . . Dr. Brodie, you can’t . . . we can’t . . . you’re my boss,” she finally managed to stammer. She was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate, especially as she could feel the pressure of his growing arousal wedged between her legs, pressing against her softness.

  “Ah yes, that I am,” he drawled with salacious satisfaction, then licked her jaw line with such sensual precision that Paige couldn’t suppress a low moan from escaping her lips. “Thanks for reminding me, Paige.” His eyes scorched her like the glowing summer sun. “But it seems you need a reminder too. Let’s see if I can trigger your memory . . . Paige.”

  The hesitation this time warned her of his intent. She wiggled under him, trying to push him away while at the same time her body screamed at her to pull him closer.

  But it was too late.

  Much too late.

  Before she realized his intent, he flipped her over and dragged her hands behind her back. With quick efficiency, he pulled off his belt and tied her wrists together.

  “What are you doing?” Paige shrieked. “Louis is on the back porch. He can come in here anytime.”

  Ethan deftly caught her long hair in his fist and started braiding it. “Better arch your back, Paige,” he intoned evenly as he pulled on the thick braid to knot it around the belt.

  “Dr. Brodie—”

  His breathing next to her ear silenced her. “Call me Dr. Brodie one more time, Paige and you will face the consequences. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. “But Louis—”

  “Are you saying he hasn’t seen your naked ass yet, Paige?” Ethan asked sinisterly and then yanked her black leggings and thong over her hips and down her legs. He smiled evilly when she shrieked in protest.

  “Remember yet, Paige?”

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  Paige was too shocked to respond; in total disbelief of the fact that he was spanking her with the bodyguard within hearing distance. She bit her lip, refusing to cry out and drawing Louis’ attention. Her ass cheeks stung with the burning slaps from Ethan’s large hands. She tried to turn her head to see the front porch, where she knew the sliding door was standing wide open. With her hair tied to the belt holding her hands together, she could only turn her eyes, not much else.

  “Hm, no response. Not even a small little cry,” Ethan pondered. Paige whimpered when he rubbed his palms over the rounded orbs of her ass cheeks, spreading the heat into her veins.

  “Maybe I should try something different,” he taunted her. He ignored her soft protest and kicking her heels apart, he pulled her legs up against her sides. He wrapped each individual leg of her stretchy leggings around her knees and knotted them together in a frog-tie position, leaving her neck and shoulders to arch back and spread open like a Christmas turkey.

  “How about now, Paige? Remember yet?”

  “You’re a devil!” Paige spluttered. She couldn’t deny that her core was burning up. The pain of the three hard smacks combined with the vulnerable position she was in, left her wet and simmering with desire.

  “I’ve been called that a few times, yes,” he purred. He took a deep breath, exhilarated with her essence wafting to his nostrils. “Ahh,” he sighed, causing a thrilling need to settle in Paige’s loins. “Such a delectable bouquet you have, my sweet and so fucking wet.” He exulted in her husky moan as he slid two large fingers deep inside her; plunging in and out in a slow, rhythmic dance of taunting pleasure.

  “Still no memory, Paige?” He tormented her, delving deeper, stroking the clenching silky folds with his digits.

  “I . . . what do you want from me?” Paige wailed. Ethan sped up, slapping his hand hard against her labia. Her ears burned. The squishing sound of her wetness was proof of the effect he had on her.

  “Do not come, Paige,” Ethan warned. His sported day-old stubble and his jaw clenched rigid as he watched his fingers pounding into her swollen pussy licentiously. It was a sight he would never get tired of. Her passage was well lubricated by her arousal.

  “How about now, Paige?” he as
ked and pinched her clitoris with his other hand, the little nub turning red under the pressure of his fingers clenching around it tighter and tighter.

  “Oh fuck!” Paige wailed. Her body writhed in a ragged dance of repressed pleasure. “I can’t! Please, I’m going to come,” she wailed softly, which turned to a low moan of loss, when Ethan’s hands were gone the next moment. “I hate you,” she sobbed. Her loins throbbed with pressure, while her clit pulsed with the need to climax.

  Ethan ran his palm up and down her labia. “Well, now, just look at that, Paige. You have a leak.” His smooth voice vibrated amusement.

  “It’s not funny, Dr. Brodie. Oowwww!” she screamed.

  Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

  He landed four punishing slaps on her throbbing sex. The pain hardly registered in Paige’s frayed mind as she was already drowning in the sweet heat that had her core dripping with need. She was holding onto her control by a thread.

  “Paige! Are you okay? What’s . . . oh!” Louis skidded to a halt just coming through the sliding door. Paige’s embarrassed cry echoed through the room. “Ethan, I didn’t realize you were here.”

  Paige was glad she couldn’t turn to face him. She could only imagine the picture he was staring at. Her body trussed up and spread open, while Ethan continued to palm her still stinging labia.

  “Er . . . need some assistance, Ethan?” Louis’ voice lowered several octaves.

  Paige started as she recognized deep rasp of his voice. He was Dom Gladiator! She’d even scened with him at Club Pearl before. He always wore a half-mask at the club.

  Ethan leaned closer and whispered in Paige’s ear. “Remember yet, Paige?”

  “I . . . you’re going to pay for this, Ethan Brodie,” she grated through clenched teeth.

  Ethan chuckled and straightened. “You know, Louis, as a matter of fact, I could use your assistance.” He ignored Paige’s indignant protest. “Ms. Scott has a serious leak which needs to be fixed. Why don’t you take over while I go and search for the appropriate tools?”

  “Ethan! You . . . you . . .” Paige sputtered, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment.