Thieving Hearts

by Nikita Slater

  He paid particular attention to her toned, fleshy ass as he continued to lift his arm and snap the whip against her helpless flesh while she screamed numbers at him. He loved the way it jumped and jiggled as the whip slapped against her, turning bright red with each hit and then evening out into a gorgeous line.

  “Fuuuuuck!” she howled, tears dripping relentlessly onto her reddened breasts, and then yelled, “Fifteen!”

  “Such a good fucking girl when you want to be,” Roman growled, still stalking circles around her. “But you just got to go and use that powerful brain against me every chance I give you? Well, that won’t be happening this time, hermosa. Open your legs.”

  Her eyes flew open, fear twisting her beautiful features. “No, Roman, please!”

  “Open. Now, Katie, or I will make you hurt like you’ve never hurt before,” he snarled in a voice gone quiet with menace.

  “Oh god,” she whimpered.

  She opened her legs a little. He brought his hand down on her abused ass and yelled, “Wider!”

  She yelped in pain, but quickly complied, opening her legs as wide as they would go while still keeping her toes on the concrete. He noticed the nails were painted silver. So pretty. He stood in front of her, watching her pert breasts jerk up and down as she heaved laboured breaths into her lungs. Her blond hair was a sexy, fluffy mess around her head. Her body decorated in his stripes, her pupils dilated in fear. She’d never looked more beautiful to him.

  He cracked the whip against the floor, drawing her startled attention to him. He could see her eyes go from the whip to his tattooed hands, up his arms and shoulders to finally settle on his face. He gave her a sinister smile. She could see the monster she’d created.

  “I had this room cleaned up for you, mi amor. It was a little gory before you arrived. You see, Katerina, reinstating the Valdez cartel was, and occasionally still is, a bloody prospect. It has not been easy ensuring loyalty to the last man. I could not have my woman seeing such filth, so I made sure the… accommodations were befitting my princess.”

  Her eyes widened in fear and disgust. She’d always known what he was about, but he had protected precious Katie from the real Roman. Now that she was going to be living this life by his side, she would have to get used to a few harsh realities. His cold eyes searched her face before he spoke again.

  “I will not make the same mistakes my father made. There will be no leniency for disloyalty or betrayal. There will be no second chances. Any man who is my enemy will die a bad death. Any woman who disobeys will die, period. If it is my woman that fucks me over,” he took a step closer, drawing a shudder of fear from her, “I will hunt her and I will beat her, lock her up forever and remind her every day, using the harshest methods, who she belongs to. You ran once, Katerina, you will not run again.”

  Her wide eyes traced his face as though truly seeing him for the first time. He stepped back and lifted the whip bringing it down on her right hip harder than he’d done before, drawing a thin line of blood and shouting, “Seventeen!”

  “Seventeen!” she screamed back, eyes locked with his. He was surprised that she had enough wits left to keep counting. Something about what he’d said to her persuaded her to stay with him in the moment.

  She kept her eyes on his face as he lifted the whip high and brought it down on her other hip, drawing a matching line of blood on her other side. As she whimpered the word, “Eighteen,” he reached out, snatched a fistful of hair, jerked her forehead to his and snarled, “Mine!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Her entire body was on fire. Flames licked over her sides, her belly, her ass, her back and her thighs. She shook with the effort to keep her legs open, but knew he would bark at her to keep them open if she dared to move. Roman was dominant on a good day. Tonight… tonight, after recapturing his prey, after a yearlong hunt, he was downright sadistic.

  He approached her, brushing the tail of the whip over his long, blunt fingers as though contemplating whether or not he was actually done hitting her. Tears trickled from her eyes at the thought. She didn’t know if she could take any more. The pain was intense, unbearable, insane. It was also breathtaking… and maybe a little wonderful. But she couldn't handle more. Not like this. Not with the boiling anger and hatred barely leashed under the surface of Roman’s control.

  He brushed the leather across first one painfully distended nipple and then the other until she was crying out and biting her lip to keep herself from begging. She had no idea what she would be begging him for anyway. Her wrists and shoulders ached unbearably. Every time he touched her, he took her attention away from the pain. But each ache was a new, even rawer pain that she didn’t know if she would be able to withstand without breaking.

  He trailed the whip down her body, scraping it over some of the burning stripes. She tried to arch away from the pain, but he looped an arm around her back and forced her forward so that she would feel everything he chose to dish out. He twirled the braided leather handle of the whip around in his hand and pressed it against her clit. She jumped and arched into him, tossing her head back restlessly.

  “That’s right, baby,” he growled, “show me what you like. Just like last time.”

  Katie was dimly aware of what he was saying. She wanted to deny his words, deny what his touch was doing to her, but it was like electricity when he touched her. He was the only person in the world that could draw this kind of response from her. She arched her hips into him and tried to press her clit harder into the whip, seeking more of the mindless pleasure he was offering after bringing her body painfully alive from the whipping. Now he was also holding her up, relieving the pressure on her poor arms as well.

  Then he did something both horrible and incredible all at once. He moved the handle further down her slit and pressed it up into her dripping pussy. The braided leather was rough against her tender passage, causing her to cry out and arch her back to relieve the pressure.

  “You can take it!” he growled, tightening his arm around her middle and forcing her against him. He pressed the handle further into her body.

  Katie’s mouth fell open. He took advantage, swooping in to take her lips in a savage kiss, claiming the hot recess for himself for the first time after a year of abstinence. She knew with every fibre of her being that, once more, Roman had been faithful to her. That Roman would always be faithful. His obsession with her ran too deep for him to even consider another woman.

  “Oh god, oh my god, Roman… it’s too much,” she wailed as soon as he released her lips.

  “Shut up,” he snarled savagely, dropping his head to bite her collarbone. “You’ll fucking take everything I give you. You were made for this, for me, Katerina.”

  “Yes,” she moaned mindlessly, as she felt the leather slide another inch further. “I’ll take it…”

  He took her mouth again, forcing her head back and fucking her with his tongue until she choked. She was completely overwhelmed by him. He was pushing her to her limits and beyond… but it was Roman. He would never actually hurt her, would he? Had she fucked up so bad a year ago that she’d pushed him past the pointing of caring what he did to her? The thought brought fresh tears to her eyes.

  Her tears spilled over and touched their lips as he savagely kissed her. She felt the moment he realized she was crying. He hesitated and pulled back, looking into her eyes. She thought for just a moment he might take pity on her, but then triumph blazed hot in his obsidian depths, leaving her in no doubt that she had truly broken the one man that was meant to love her unconditionally. She sobbed helplessly in her bindings as he gripped a handful of her hair and forced her to look at him.

  He pulled the whip handle partway out of her tender pussy before thrusting it ruthlessly back in. She screamed, her face twisting, and went up as high as she could on her toes in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure inside of her. Tears poured from her eyes. Her fingers opened wide and she reached high above her as if reaching for heaven.

  He
took her chin and turned her face to his, licking her cheek. "I love your tears, mi amor, they are so beautiful. They make my dick harder than it’s been in a year.”

  Her tear-stained eyes turned to him, wet, spiky lashes fluttering as she tried to focus. “H-how… can you call me y-your love? After everything that’s happened. You should hate me,” she whispered, her lips inches from his.

  He considered her question carefully. She was half afraid he would fly off the handle at her mention of love again, but she needed to know. She had to know where they stood. He clearly enjoyed torturing her. Although she was no fool. Even while her body stung and hurt, and she was utterly exhausted, she understood this wasn't real torture. She was in one piece. She had pissed off a killer. The boss of the Valdez cartel. What she was experiencing, though it felt all kinds of terrible, was probably a slap on the wrist when it came to men like this. A light punishment for the girlfriend of a cartel boss. His next words confirmed her thought.

  “I tried hating you,” he admitted bleakly, his dark eyes meeting her bloodshot ones. “Truth is, you’re mi mujer and you always will be. I might not trust you, but I can never hate you, Katie, mi amor.”

  “Oh god, Roman,” she whispered, wishing she could touch him, wipe away the pain of betrayal she saw in his eyes. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  She watched in dismay as the shutters slammed down over his eyes. He shoved her away from him, ignoring the cry of fear that leapt from her throat. Without warning, he yanked the handle from her pussy, ripping another scream from her. She clenched her knees together and let her body hang from her wrists, uncaring of his stupid orders or the pressure on her arms. Her tender vagina needed her now. She drew her legs up to relieve some of the pressure and cried softly, completely unaware as Roman approached her once more.

  “Ro… ooooman!" his name quickly turned into a scream of agony as he hooked one arm around her waist and reached up to guide her wrists from the hook. The pain increased as blood rushed into her arms.

  “Shhh, it’ll stop hurting in a minute,” he murmured against her head, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the table as if he weren't the cause of all her current suffering. She glared at him as he set her bare ass on top of the table. She yelped as the welts on her ass hit the table, but then settled when the cool metal soothed the pain of the stripes he’d given her. Remembering his earlier words she wondered how many people had been killed in this room, perhaps using this very table. She shuddered and squirmed on top of the possible torture table.

  He brought the bone handled knife up between her hands and easily sliced through the tight rope binding her wrists without touching her skin. She spared a brief moment to marvel at how skilled Roman was with a knife. Though a little unsettling in the context of this room and his position as a cartel boss, she had to admit, her guy knew what he was doing.

  He stood next to the table, towering over her, a knife still held loosely in his long, tanned fingers while she sat naked on the table he used to torture people. Yet she was still turned on. What was it about this man that just pushed all of her buttons?

  “Going to fuck you now,” he said, his dark eyes relentlessly focused on hers.

  Her breath caught in her throat. She wondered what would happen if she said no. She’d done it once when she was eighteen and gotten away with it. He’d politely, or as politely as Roman had been capable of, tucked her into bed and walked away. Now, she was in a lawless land, kidnapped and at the mercy of a man that owned everything around him, including the local law.

  He took her abraded wrists in his big hands and ran his thumbs over the red marks. She moaned as he massaged the wounds, soothing the sore skin and stroking the blood flow to life. Her head fell back and her eyes closed. She was completely helpless to resist his brand of gifting her tiny bits of pleasure after subjecting her to so much pain. He let her wrists go and dropped his hands to her thighs causing her to jump and yelp when his warm hands landed on the stripes of painful flesh.

  “Easy, baby,” he murmured.

  Memories of their time on the yacht flooded her mind at his words and she jerked in his hands as though to get away from him. Of course, Roman would have none of that. His fingers tightened around her slim thighs, dragging a pained groan from her. He dragged her forward to the edge of the metal table and snarled in her ear, “Not going anywhere.”

  “Roman!” she whimpered as pain and need merged within her. He fucked with her head just as much as her body, playing a dangerous game with her emotions.

  He yanked her off the table and turned her over, admiring the red welts crisscrossing her pale ass for a moment before kicking her legs apart and opening her up to him.

  “You wet for me, mi hermosa mujer?” he growled, unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock from the confines of his pants.

  Katie looked at him over her shoulder, wanting to see him, needing to see what she did to him. “You know I am, Roman,” she told him, meeting his eyes. Her body was on fire for him. Lit up from the whipping and from every touch he subjected her to.

  He took a handful of her hair and, without warning, lined himself up behind her and slammed himself home. If he hadn't used the whip handle first, he might have hurt her more. As it was, Katie had enough trouble adjusting to his size, going up onto her toes with a shout. She gripped the edge of the table and tilted her hips forward. He leaned over her, kissing the welts that marred her beautiful back before biting savagely into her shoulder and pulling back to slam his hips into her again and again.

  Katie shrieked and clawed the edge of the table, helpless to do anything but take his ruthless siege on her body as he relieved some of his yearlong obsession with finding and punishing the woman that escaped him. His penis angled into her g-spot with such force that she had no choice but to hurtle forward into an orgasm of such magnitude that she was barely able to hold onto consciousness as she came. Wave after wave of painful joy in the cruel arms of the lover that had reclaimed her for himself.

  Satisfied that Katie was taken care of, Roman followed shortly behind her with a grunt of release, pumping into her over and over, scalding her bare pussy with a year’s worth of pent up semen. He held her so tight she could barely breath. Not that it mattered. She had nothing left to give. She lay limp in his arms as he turned her over against the metal table.

  She could barely manage to open her eyes and look up at him, her eyelashes fluttering. She was so completely done. He’d won. She would give him whatever he wanted if he just let her sleep for a million years. She thought she saw the ghost of a smile cross his hard lips as he gently brushed her short bangs off her forehead and pressed a kiss against her skin. He hefted her against his strong chest and carried her naked out of that god-awful torture basement.

  Katie was too tired to open her eyes as he ascended the stairs and took her into the main part of the house. She felt the air become noticeably warmer though, which she definitely appreciated. She snuggled closer against Roman and felt his arms tighten around her. She heard his shoes click against the floor. Her own bare feet bounced as he carried her through his huge hacienda. And then they were going up again. Up and up, high up into his castle. She was beginning to have a nagging suspicion in her too tired mind that he was going to lock her in a tower so she couldn't escape. Like Rapunzel. Because Rapunzel had blond hair, right? Only Katie’s hair wasn't long enough to get her out of trouble this time.

  Then she was being placed gently on a bed and her dark captor was stepping away from her. She was able to slit her tired eyes open enough to understand that there was a window in the room and that dawn was approaching. Then she blinked. And blinked again. And narrowed her eyes. There were bars on the window.

  Deciding she was just too tired to deal with it she sighed and closed her eyes again. She felt the weight of covers drift over her naked shoulders and snuggled into the warmth. She could hear voices murmuring in Spanish from the doorway and latched onto Roman’s as her sense of comfort, hugging it to her he
art as she drifted off.

  “You are to see to her every comfort, Lana. She will need a warm bath and cream for the welts, then you can prepare her for the ceremony…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Katie woke to the pleasant aroma of pancakes and coffee. She thought for a moment that she was back home in the United States, tucked into her childhood bed, smelling a home cooked breakfast prepared by mom. Then she stretched and the soft blanket slid along bare skin, touching the wounds Roman had inflicted the night before. Katie flinched and curled into herself as memories of the night before flooded through her. The chill darkness of the cellar he had her strung up in, the fiery heat of his angry gaze licking over her exposed flesh and the painful strike of the whip biting into her while he forced her to count out her own punishment. The deep ache between her legs reminded her that Roman’s brand of torture was both erotic and terrifying.

  “Hola, miss,” said a quiet but cheerful feminine voice behind her. The woman spoke in soft Spanish as she approached the bed, “If you are ready to get up I have some breakfast here for you and then we can see to your wounds.”

  Katie decided she had no choice but to open her eyes and face this day. And whatever further horrors Roman had in store for her. She sat up slowly, mindful of the stretch and ache in each part of her body. She held the light hand-woven white blanket up to her chest as she turned slowly on the mattress and faced the woman who’d been sent to care for her.

  “My name is Lana. I’m the wife of Jorje, Mr. Valdez’s second-in-command. I will be your companion while you stay in the hacienda,” said the woman, her eyes taking Katie in curiously. She was probably somewhere in her forties, short and full-figured with a head full of glossy black hair and gorgeous round eyes. She was wearing a pretty pink chiffon dress that looked a little too formal given the occasion. Her expression was friendly though, so Katie held out her hand.