His Devil's Wish

by Linzi Basset

  Ethan was aware of Paige’s cheeks blazing with color. He smiled gently at her while he pulled up her dress and tied it behind her neck.

  “Maybe next time, Master Slick. For now, the punishment is over.”

  Master Slick winked at Rose. “I’ll be waiting, Rose.”

  Paige watched him as he walked away, a little taken aback by how he’d deliberately taunted Ethan.

  “Do you have anything to say to me, Rose?” Ethan asked as he guided her to the entertainment area and sat down in one of the secluded alcoves.

  Paige glanced at him with a frown, searching her mind for what he was after. The sardonic lift of his brow reminded her of what he was after.

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry that you feel I defied you, Master Apollo. It was—”

  “Rose,” Ethan said warningly. Paige had a sneaky suspicion that he was holding back his mirth—at her expense, of course. “Or did you enjoy being punished so much that you’re angling for another?”

  “Of course not, Sir,” she said quickly and mumbled further, “I’m sorry for defying you, Master Apollo.”

  “Hm, somehow that doesn’t sound very sincere. Maybe you need a little more incentive to accept responsibility for your actions.”

  One moment Paige was sitting beside him on the sofa, the next she was upended over his lap. She gasped as he whipped the dress up to bare her buttocks. Her breath hissed through her teeth when he caressed the rounded curve of her ass cheeks.

  “Am I right, Rose?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I really am,” she shrieked when a large pair of boots came into view.

  “It seems little rosebud is still giving you some trouble, Master Apollo,” Master Goliath’s guttural voice sounded above her.

  Paige suppressed a groan of dismay.

  “Ah, just in time, mate. I hadn’t planned on another punishment but Rose here is begging for it. Care to assist?”

  “With pleasure,” Goliath chuckled ignoring Paige, who protested loudly.

  “I want your hands clasped behind your neck, Rose. Now,” Ethan barked when she didn’t immediately obey. Rose shrieked and jerked when he spread her legs and plunged two fingers deep inside her pussy. “As I suspected—hot and wet as fuck.” Ethan held her down with one hand on her back while he continued to plunder her pulsing sheath with the other.

  He leaned closer to growl in Paige’s ear. “Do. Not. Come.” He thrust harder, his hand making a slapping noise against her skin. He nodded at Goliath.

  Paige’s moans turned into loud wails when Goliath’s huge palm connected with her ass.

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  “Oww, owww, owww,” she cried as pain from her tender behind seared her brain, even as Ethan continued to plunder her pussy.

  “No, Master Goliath, you don’t stop. Keep going and make sure every slap counts,” Ethan growled, his gaze homed in on the essence of her arousal that coated his hand already.

  Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

  Paige’s moans turned to cries as she thrashed and begged them to stop. Her ears burned with the constant cracking sound on her ass, mixing with the wet squishing sound of her pussy around Ethan’s hand almost pushing all the way inside her wet cleft.

  Still, they continued. Paige’s cries turned to screams, until she begged them in a continued mantra to stop. It only spurred Ethan on and he added his thumb to graze her clitoris with every plunge inside her.

  “Stop! Stop! I beg you, stop,” she screamed, her buttocks felt like they were covered in lava but every slap managed to build the pressure inside her loins.

  “Red!” Paige screamed; her voice hoarse. She curled around Ethan’s legs, her hands clawing at the floor. Her cries reached a high pitch before dropping an octave, to end in a carnal wail that accompanied the climax strong enough to shatter her insides. She felt the rush of liquid down the insides of her legs and she moaned, desperately humping Ethan’s hand to finish the endless spasms that coiled and released inside her loins. Goliath, now gently rubbing her blazing ass, didn’t help; in fact it aided to draw one climax after the other from her.

  “I’m sorry, Master Apollo. I beg you, no more,” she sobbed, rendering her even more defenseless.

  “You already stopped it, Rose but that’s the apology I was after,” Ethan said gruffly as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her against his chest.

  Paige whimpered as she felt Goliath’s large hands return to her painfully sensitive bottom.

  “Easy, Rosebud, I’m only rubbing in some Arnica and a soothing gel to ease the pain.”

  Paige’s arms crawled around Ethan’s body and she relaxed against him, drawing in deep breaths of his subtle aftershave. He smelled wonderful. He felt even better.

  This was where she’d always longed to be. In his arms; treasured and cared for, like she was the only one who mattered.

  * * * * * * * *

  Rhone and Keon stood at the bar looking in the direction of the trio. They were aware of the scene but they weren’t watching them per se. They kept a close eye on Master Slick who was sitting in a sofa opposite to them.

  The look on his face, when Paige curled and wailed in the throes of an orgasm was one of bliss; like he was the one responsible for her pleasure. Then his expression changed.

  Keon glanced at Rhone.

  “I see what you mean, Rhone. What the fuck is up with him?”

  “I don’t know, mate but I don’t like it. It’s not like him to act like this. He knows the code among friends and even more so, as Senior Masters in the club. Why would he jeopardize that by openly challenging Ethan of all people?”

  “Are you saying he’s deliberately trying to drive a wedge between Ethan and Paige?”

  “Not so much between them, because it’s a known fact that he hasn’t committed to her yet. No, I get the feeling that he’s trying to unsettle Ethan. Anger or upset him so that he . . .”

  “C’mon, Rhone? Master Slick, of all people? He’s been our friend for years! How can you even think he might be involved with Prince Khalid or the Sixth Order?”

  Rhone continued to peruse the silver-haired man who now sat back with his long legs spread out lazily in front of him. Lance and Jack joined him and the usual wide smile that he was known for, spread over his face.

  “Yeah, at face value I agree with you, but his actions tonight? I don’t know Keon. And we know from personal experience how deceitful people can be; money talks, and power even more so. All I’m saying is we need to keep an eye on him. Especially, until we get Jaxon back.”

  “No, Rhone, more so once we have Jaxon back home because if what you suspect is true, it would put Ethan and his son in grave danger.”

  Rhone nodded; his expression remained inscrutable while he continued to watch Master Slick. He’d been negligent once, which had inadvertently led to Keon’s wife being killed and his daughter stolen from him.

  It had taught him that no one was to be trusted. This time, he would stay vigilant.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The camouflaged charcoal paint of the Sikorsky S-97 Raider chopper was enveloped in a cloud of sand, hardly detectable in the blackness of the night. With its sleek lines, coaxial counter-rotating main rotors, pusher propeller, and retractable landing gear, it was built for stealth. The blades slicing the air had much the same effect as a small tornado on the loose desert sand.

  Max slid open the door of the chopper and launched the drone. “And we have lift-off,” he murmured while he steered the small sleek drone toward the compound ten miles from them.

  “Make it quick, Max. I don’t like Ethan and Lance being alone at the palace. We have no guarantee that there are limited guards. I don’t want them to end up in that fucking prison again, or worse, dead.” Rhone’s voiced urgently but his demeanor remained controlled, calm and filled with determination.

  The team fed of that, like they always did. Jack perused the roughly drawn map that Sean had managed to send to Alex. He squinted to see the faint lines
in the illumination of green light from his night vision goggles.

  “Right, Max, you’re close to the entrance. From there you need to take the left hallway, last door to the left. Let’s hope the doors are all open otherwise we have to go in blind. Better keep the fucking motion detectors running on that drone; it’s the only eyes we have inside.”

  “Don’t fucking tell me how to do my job, mate,” Max grunted, his eyes glued to the small screen as he used the remote control to maneuver the drone down the hallway. “Room’s clear. Where next?”

  Keon and Rhone geared up while they continued guiding the small drone down the staircase and into the cell block. They needed to be prepared to act on a moment’s notice.

  “We need to be sure the girls are there,” Jack responded as he leaned over Max’s shoulders to look at the screen.

  “I’ll go high. That way we’ll be able to see into the cells and keep out of sight of any guards. Luckily this drone is completely silent, so no one will hear a sound.”

  Silence followed as Max continued further into the cell block. They were surrounded by absolute stillness. No air stirred, there were no clouds drifting in the midnight sky above. Even their breathing seemed to die as soon as it left their mouths. It was an eerie tranquility that heightened their senses. It was like the world was encased in a cocoon, a bubble, and they were trapped in the middle.

  “It’s too fucking quiet,” Keon said. He kept an eye on their surrounding with the sharpness of an eagle. “Are Parnell and Seth on point?”

  “Yes, they’re hovering less than a mile away.”

  “Got them,” Max breathed with relief. He too had begun to fear that they had walked into a trap. “Most of them are contained in three of the main cells down the first hallway to the left.”

  “That’ll make it easier and quicker to get them out. I just hope the five choppers are big enough to accommodate all of them. At a quick count, I estimate there’s roughly eighty heads,” Jack intoned gruffly.

  “How many guards?” Rhone asked.

  “Four. Two of them are asleep in one corner and the other two are playing cards. Based on the number of bottles on that table, I’d say they’re somewhat intoxicated,” Max said with a smirk.

  “Alpha Bravo S calling Foxtrot Charlie Z. You’re good to go. Buster, guys! Make sure your ECM is activated. Four hostiles inside, possibly intoxicated. Boresight, guys. We can’t afford to goon up. Be alert,” Keon snapped into the radio.

  “Foxtrot Charlie Z, fangs are out. ETA two minutes,” Parnell’s deep voice reverberated over their headsets.

  “Close up, Max but keep an eye on that monitor. I want to be airborne the moment Parnell and the team are inside to extract the women. Ethan has been too quiet. We’ve got to get back to the palace,” Rhone instructed curtly but he couldn’t get rid of the sense of foreboding that had been on his mind for the past two days.

  * * * * * * * *

  “The definition of stakeout is about as useful as cat vomit on dress-pants. It’s like reading a menu card for food you’ve never tasted. I fucking hate sitting around waiting,” Lance growled. He adjusted the night vision goggles as he looked around.

  “Patience, mate. We can’t afford to make any mistakes. I don’t care what Alex said, I don’t trust the fact that there seems to be hardly any guards around.” Ethan scanned the east side of the palace through the binoculars where they’d been told Jaxon’s room was. “And depending only on guards with all the high-tech security measures out there? I’ve not even seen one laser scanner anywhere.”

  “Maybe the prince doesn’t trust technology. From what I’ve heard about him, he’s old school.”

  “According to Sean, there’s only one guard left in front of Jaxon’s room and three or four scouring the rest of the palace. I confirmed there are only two guards walking the perimeter, at thirty-minute intervals. With the next passing, we move.”

  “I’ve never seen such a black night. It’s haunting,” Lance said as he gazed at the glittering stars high above. Sweat beaded on his brow. “Scaling a fucking palm tree in this dark; I’d rather go through the front door.”

  “I agree with you. But it’s the safest way to get into Jaxon’s room undetected.”

  “If we don’t break our necks trying to get there. You seem to forget we’re a few years older than your son, mate.”

  “We’ll do it, Lance. We fucking have to.”

  Ethan had been chafing to get Jaxon since Rhone had dropped them on the outskirts of Riyadh. It had taken them close to an hour to reach the palace and another thirty minutes before they could get through the gates undetected. It’s been close to an hour of surveillance to observe the guard movements on the east side.

  As if made of the darkness itself, a cat appeared, breaking the monotony of the stakeout.

  “Damn cat. We can’t afford distractions,” Lance muttered. His deep voice startled the animal. In the silence of the midnight world, his sudden yowls rend the air louder than a gunshot. Five pounds of fur barreled toward them, yellow eyes glowing in a diminutive head. “Shut up, you stupid feline,” Lance purred in a soothing voice. He petted the cat with the enthusiasm of someone being led to the gallows. He’d never liked cats. The cat’s claws picked at the fabric of his kevlar vest. “Now, shoo! Git!” he growled and sighed with relief as the cat bounded off in the opposite direction.

  “Guards are walking,” Ethan warned. They slinked lower behind the shrubs at the edge of the garden where they were hiding, a couple of yards from the palm trees that hugged the side of the palace walls.

  Their faces and hands were hidden under a film of pungent mud to ensure that they completely blended into the darkness surrounding them. It made Ethan think of an old-fashioned photograph, everything a shade of black and grey. This was worse. It was the kind of darkness that robbed you of your senses and replaced it with a paralyzing fear. For him, it was one of failure, which was why he was extra cautious. He couldn’t afford to make the smallest of miscalculation. Now that he was this close to his son, nothing would stop him from taking him home. Not the black night, the guards or the fucking demonic Prince Khalid himself.

  “Now, let’s go,” Ethan said and with a burst of speed ran in a hunched over position toward the palm trees. With a huge lunge he heaved through the air to land with a soft thud high up against the palm tree. The tree shuddered when Lance landed just below him.

  “Fuck me,” he puffed for breath. “Get the fuck up there, Ethan.”

  “Hold on, the fucking strap got tangled,” Ethan grunted as he struggled to keep his hold on the smooth bark of the tree while he battled to loosen the knot with his fingers and teeth. “Got it!” He caught the two edges of the leather strap and with smooth coordinated movements they began to scale the tree.

  “Lance, I’m going to kick away when I jump. Hold tight so you don’t drop from the impact. Aim for the closest edge of the balcony.”

  “Jesus! I still say we should’ve gone through the doors. I fucking hate heights,” he grumbled but tightened his hold on the straps and locked his legs around the tree stump.

  “Good thing it’s too dark to see how high you are then,” Ethan chuckled. He took a deep breath, judged the distance and with a Herculean effort, hurled through the air. The bottom of his feet skirted the top of the balcony ledge that caused him to tumble face first into the marble floor.

  “Fuck,” he cursed softly. The burning pain in his cheek seared through his brain. He ignored it and scrambled out of the way quickly, clearing the way for Lance.

  His landing was a little more elegant as he had the presence of mind to lift his legs higher.

  “What a rush,” Lance exclaimed in a hushed voice. He silently followed Ethan to the sliding doors. He squinted and looked around inside. “This looks like a living room.”

  “Yeah, apparently he has an entire suite for himself. The bedroom is through that door to the left according to the map Alex gave me.”

  Ethan wasn’t surprised to
find the door unlocked. He hesitated and took another careful look around the room.

  “I don’t see any cameras. Do you?”

  “None. Why would there be? He’s being guarded twenty-four-seven. I guess they don’t think anyone would come in from the balcony.”

  “Let’s go. Keep low and alive, mate.”

  “Ditto, mate.”

  Ethan carefully eased open the door and stepped over the threshold, his eyes and ears straining for even the smallest sound. The cooling flow from the overhead air conditioning was a blessing to the skin. They remained still for a couple of seconds before they moved with the stealth of a tiger toward Jaxon’s bedroom.

  Ethan stepped inside. The air around them thickened; instinctively he dropped to the floor as a knife swished through the air. He rolled onto his back and with a quick flip, was back on his feet. Lance stood unmoving just outside the open door, waiting for instructions. In that frozen second of a standoff, Ethan could see the glimmer of dark eyes underneath the white turban sitting on the guard’s head. Ethan’s face was unreadable; he waited.

  “What the fuck—” A young voice behind him distracted Ethan and the guard charged in that split second of unguarded attention.

  A sudden gush of pain in his thigh jolted throughout Ethan.

  “Get Jaxon out of here, Lance,” Ethan gritted through clenched teeth. Pain was just an illusory sensation that his mind could shut down if it needed to. It was something he’d learned from Seth Harris, one of the Masters of Krav Maga, who’d trained him. “Breathe through it, Ethan. Put it aside,” he heard Seth’s voice in his mind.

  “Dad? Talk to me! Dad, is that you?” The fear was evident in the rising voice of the teenager.

  “Do as I say, Lance,” Ethan barked, circling the menacing guard who was now smirking. He’d felt the knife enter Ethan’s body and smelled victory.

  This time, Ethan locked out all sounds, even the scuffle that ensued between Lance and Jaxon, with the latter refusing to leave without his father.

  “We have to go, Jax. The longer we stay, the more danger he’ll be in. Leave him to fight his way out of this. If he has to worry about you, it makes him vulnerable,” Lance coerced in an urgent voice. The vibration of the radio in his pocket warned him that Rhone was close.