Jordan's Quest: Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance book (The Generals' Sons 1)

by Veronica Cane

  Shrugging, she assumed Damian had arrived and that she had left with him.

  At that moment, she felt a shiver run down her spine and she quickly turned around to find Mark standing a few steps away from her, his strong arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing black leather pants and a vest and he looked like a damn Viking that had just walked off of his boat, ready to raid the peasant's village. His blue eyes had this dangerous glow that was able to forget everything else around them.

  "Good evening, little rose." He said, with a devious smile. "Are you ready for me?" he asked, his tone showing he didn’t expect anything other than a 'yes, master'.

  "Good evening, Master Mark. Actually, I was heading to the bar for a drink, after all, it's still early." She answered, determined to poke him.

  He smiled, and she had the infuriating sensation that he could read her like an open book.

  "Then I'll join you. I could use a glass of cold water." He said, taking her by her arm and guiding her towards the bar. He ordered for both of them, and they lingered there, enjoying their cold beverages.

  They didn’t have much time there when Damian approached them.

  "Mark!" he said as he reached his friend. "Where's Emily?"

  "She's not with you?" Rose asked, stepping up, to face him.

  "Of course not, I'm just arriving!" Damian almost shouted. "Where is she?"

  Rose lost all color from her cheeks, as she realized Emily was missing.

  "She came in with me, and I left her alone for a few minutes while I went to the ladies room. She was supposed to wait for me at a table, but when I came out she wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so I assumed you had arrived and that she was with you." She explained to both men.

  "Damn!" Damian swore, looking worried and furious at the same time.

  "She wasn’t wearing your collar?" Mark asked, understanding the possibilities.

  "No! I was going to talk to her about that today! Damn!" Damian rubbed his hand over his face. "Do we have too many guests around today?" he asked Mark.

  "Yes, half a dozen men, from Russia, that came from the Russian consulate." Mark answered, expressing the same worry as Damian.

  "Shit! Please gather a few monitors and make them look for her. She has reddish hair, with green eyes and very white skin." He shouted the orders as he started running towards the stairs that led to the dungeons.

  Mark turned around to face Rose.

  "Wait here for me! Don't move a single muscle, not even to go to the ladies room." Mark's order was clear and raw. He was furious and worried, and that wasn’t a good combination.

  He ran after Damian and Rose watched him disappear worried for Emily. It wasn’t like her to disappear like that.

  She stood there watching as the seconds ran by on her watch, looking around, wanting to go look for her friend, but paralyzed by Mark's words. He would kill her if he returned and she wasn’t there. He didn’t need more trouble right now.

  So, she stood there, bouncing from one foot to the other, looking desperately around and following the slow advance of the watch.

  Finally, she saw Mark with other monitors walking a man to the exit. She took a step to go meet him, just to take it back. She crossed her arms tight around her chest, even more worried. A few minutes later she saw Damian coming out of the hall way with Emily and this time she had to make a huge effort not to run towards her friend. She watched them leave the club, feeling helpless.

  Mark soon returned to where she was. His face didn’t inspire anything good. He was furious and she guessed a good part of it was directed at her.

  He grabbed her by her arm and almost dragged her to the upper floor, to one of the private rooms.

  He chose one that looked like a small medieval dungeon, and she felt shivers ran down her spine. That didn’t look good for her.

  "Assume your position." Were his first words to her and she didn’t doubt obeying.

  "Yes, Master." She fell to her knees, her buttocks resting over her ankles, hands behind her back and her head down.

  He stood in front of her and raised her chin with one of his fingers.

  "What role did you play in this situation?" his tone was harsh and cold like a winter's day.

  "I met Emily at the entrance and asked her to accompany me inside, Master." She answered. "I didn’t notice she wasn’t wearing a collar, so I left her alone for just a couple of minutes while I went to the ladies room."

  "She was grabbed by a foreign guest and he was about to torture her and god knows what else." He informed, his words spewing rage. "He completely ignored her cries for help and her safe word."

  "Oh, god. She didn’t want to come in, but I insisted, and I was so nervous she ended up accepting." Rose stammered, almost speaking for herself.

  "So you pushed her to disobey her Dom." He concluded.

  "I didn’t know she had been told to stay there." She replied, protesting for the unfair comment.

  "Don’t you think you should have known better? After all I had explained in great detail the dangers of wandering alone and uncollared through the club." His tone was even colder and she shuddered.

  "Yes, Master, I should have known better." And she did. When she asked Emily to enter the main room with her, she should have checked if she had a collar on, and she hadn’t. And if that wasn’t enough, she had left her alone. "I'm terribly sorry." She added, a silent tear running down from the corner of her eye.

  "You will be." He said, and his menacing tone made her close her eyes, not scared, but yes concerned. "The minute you made her enter the club with you, she became your responsibility and you neglected that.

  "Yes Master." She admitted the weight of what might have happened, downing on her. Her nervousness had gotten the best of her and she had missed important things.

  "What should I do to you now, little rose?" he asked, his tone still harsh, but the rage was gone.

  His question, though, made her sob. Was he giving up on her? She knew she had been complaining that she didn’t know how to handle him, but if one thing was clear, it was that she didn’t want to lose him. Not yet.

  Excerpts from

  Submission

  Chapter 8

  It was dark when I woke up and I was alone with my thoughts. Time was beginning to become meaningless, and I had no idea if it was day or night, nor did I care. Why did it matter? It wouldn’t make me any less of his slave.

  I let my mind drift to what my days used to be like. I thought about what I used to do each day at work and I could almost smell the coffee I would have each morning at my desk, when I first got into the office.

  My mind began to wander from the life I used to have to what happened earlier. There was a burning sensation from the tattoo. I can’t believe he branded me like I was his property. It was still bandaged but I didn’t need to see the ink on my wrist to remember what happened.

  I heard Devlin in the kitchen and realized I wasn’t handcuffed to the bed. This was the first time I had woke up untethered. I thought about trying to make a run for it, but quickly put that thought out of my head. I wouldn’t make it to the front door before he caught me and I still hadn’t figured out where the stupid fire escape even was, if there even was one. Surely there had to be one. Don’t all hirise buildings have to have them?

  The more I thought about everything, the angrier I became. This tattoo was the final straw. I decided that I’d had enough and went into the kitchen to confront him.

  “I’m not doing this anymore Devlin.”

  He leaned against the counter and smirked.

  “You’ve kidnapped me, held me hostage, refused to let me wear clothes, beat me repeatedly, made me crawl around on all fours like I was an animal and you won’t even let me go to the bathroom with the door locked and now you’ve marred my body with this tattoo.”

  I lifted my wrist and pointed to the bandage.

  “What are you going to do next, get out a cattle iron and brand my ass?”

  He didn’t resp
ond. He just kept looking at me with that smirk on his face.

  “I can’t even sleep like a normal person at night because you insist on handcuffing me to the bed. I’m not doing this anymore. I’ve had enough. I want to go home. You’ve had your fun but enough is enough. I’m not your pet. I’m a human being and I have rights. You can’t treat me like this.”

  He just kept grinning at me and let me continue on with my rant. He didn’t even appear to be angry with me, seeming almost amused by my outburst.

  “Well, say something!” I demanded.

  “Aren’t we feeling a little spunky today?”

  “If you think I’m going to answer you ‘Yes, Master’ you’ve lost your mind. I’m done with all of that. I want to go home Devlin. I’m serious. Take me home right this minute!”

  I turned with my back to him, not wanting to let him see me tear up. And then I felt him. He came up behind me and a sensation unlike any I had felt before tore through me. I couldn’t feel him but I knew he was near me. The pull was beyond my control.

  There was something delusional about these thoughts I kept having about him. This man is forcing my sanity to fly out the window and I couldn’t for the life of me explain why. I enjoyed being the focus of his attention, and I enjoyed the way he took care of me yet at the same time, I knew that was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t care anything about this man. This is my abductor, not a potential husband.

  Being around Devlin had a strange effect on me, and I couldn’t understand it. I mean yes he was a beautiful man -- that goes without saying, but I had been around attractive men before. It’s not like I lived in a cave all of my life. But this was more and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was about him that was beyond the normal realm of appealing. Why was I so drawn to him even after the way he has treated me?

  For the last year, any time he was anywhere near me my brain would just shut down and my body would tingle with desire. A year of this unexplainable pull towards him, to have it all end up like this?

  I remembered his touch, and a chill ran up my spine. How crazy am I to get turned on just by the memory of him touching me? What is wrong with me? God, I even loved the way he woke me up each morning, with his deep masculine voice. I really did love the way he said “Good morning.” Then again, I loved the way he said most things. His voice alone could drive me over the edge.

  “Are you finished?” he murmured from behind me.

  I froze. His words hit me like a slap to the face. Am I finished? Seriously? That’s all he had to say to me?

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I asked, as I turned to face him.

  He didn’t answer my question. Instead he took me by the hand and led me into a room I hadn’t seen before. He drenched my body in baby oil, taking his time to rub it in thoroughly, making my skin slick.

  “This will help you not to get rope burns.”

  I didn’t know what he meant but it felt so good having his hands all over my body, I didn’t stop to give it much thought.

  When he was done rubbing the baby oil in, he had me straddle a chair and then secured my legs far apart, keeping them in place with a thick rope. He handcuffed my hands behind my back and then put a ball gag in my mouth.

  Now it didn’t matter what he did to me, because I couldn’t move or scream for help. I was scared. Maybe I shouldn’t have had my little outburst after all.

  “Your life is no longer your own. Your body belongs to me. I told you on that first day here, my word is law. You are my property, my slave. You will learn to obey me. You will learn to submit.”

  He smacked my upper thigh with a leather riding crop. It stung. He hit my other thigh, then my stomach, each of my breasts and then my pussy. The pain from that stroke was unimaginable. I cried out but the ball gag prevented any sound from being heard. Luckily he didn’t hit my pussy but the one time. The other strokes were focused mostly on my upper thighs and stomach, with each of my breasts getting struck a few times as well.

  I don’t know how long this went on, it could have been twenty strokes or two hundred. All I knew for sure was that my body was bright red and swollen from being struck repeatedly with the riding crop.

  I knew what he was doing. He was breaking me down so that he could build me back up. I got it. The military does the same thing. That’s what basic training was all about. But even knowing what he was doing, didn’t make the pain he inflicted any easier to bare.

  The red slashes and welts covered practically all of my body. I began to grow woozy and started to pass out from the pain. It was all just too much to take. I couldn’t handle it anymore.

  When I woke up I was handcuffed to the bed again, alone in the dark. Tears began streaming down my cheeks, my voice quaking in terror, as I let out a pitiful cry.

  My body ached from the lashes that had bitten into my bare flesh and I was feeling sick to my stomach, I felt like I might throw up but I couldn’t move. If I was going to get sick, I would have to lay there in it for God only knows how long, until he came in to check on me and let me clean myself up. If he let me clean myself up. He was a sadistic bastard, for all I knew, he would make me lay in my own vomit to punish me for getting sick in the first place.

  I did my best to keep from throwing up and eventually, when I stopped crying he came into the bedroom. He released me from the cuffs and helped me sit up and gently brushed the hair out of my eyes.

  With him he had a bowl of ice cold water and some strips of linen which he dipped into the freezing water and lightly placed on my skin. The coolness of the cloth felt good and helped to sooth the welts on my body. I laid perfectly still as he cared for my wounds.

  “That’s a good girl,” he soothed.

  While he was caring for me, I must have fallen back asleep. I don’t know how long I was out but when I woke up I could see the sun shining through the window and knew it was a new day.

  I could smell the scent of fresh bacon and heard my stomach growl and soon after Devlin entered the room with a tray in hand. For breakfast today he made scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with strawberry jelly and a glass of orange juice.

  I tried to use my one free hand to prop myself up, but it hurt too much to move. I grimaced and he rushed to my side, setting the tray of food down and removed my handcuffs.

  “Good morning,” he said as he helped me sit all the way up.

  “I need to go to the restroom. Do you think you can help me get up?”

  He gave me a stern look. “Please Master, I don’t think I can get out of bed without your help.”

  He smiled down at me and gently helped me get out of bed. As soon as I stood up I fell to the floor. The pain was so intense, I couldn’t stand up on my own. He picked me up off of the floor and carried me to the bathroom, sitting me down on the toilet. I was humiliated at having him there while I relieved myself but what else could I do? I couldn’t walk without him. After I finished he helped me wash my hands and face and then carried me back to bed and fed me breakfast.

  He was so tender and loving with me and for just a moment it was easy to imagine having a great life with him. That is, this version of him. I liked him liked this. I liked having him lavish me with affection and attention. This was the Devlin that I was first attracted to. He had a sensitive loving heart and lively spirit that drew everyone to him. If only this Devlin would stay around all the time.

  After breakfast Devlin ran me a warm bath that he had filled with Epsom salt to help my wounds heal and the swelling go down. When we were done he carried me back to bed and rubbed scented oils into my body. It was relaxing and before long I was asleep yet again. I had read once that when you are not feeling well your body uses sleep to help recover. As much as I was sleeping lately, I supposed my body's recovery system must have been in hyper-drive.

  After a few days of extensive bed rest and tender, loving care from Devlin I finally started to feel almost human again. Devlin informed me that he had to go into work for a few hours. I felt almost panicked at hearing that h
e would be leaving me alone and it must have shown on my face.

  “It’s okay,” he said soothingly as he patted my leg. “I’ll be back before you know it. Do you want to watch some television while I am away?”

  “I would. Thank you Master.”

  This was the first time he was going to trust me out of bed while he was away. There wouldn’t however be a chance for me to escape because he secured me to a chair in the living room. I had one hand free but one hand and both legs were chained.

  I flipped mindlessly through the channels until I happened upon a re-run of one of the Twilight movies. I’ve seen them all before, several times before, but nothing else was on so I watched it again.

  When the movie ended I started flipping channels again and happened upon a skin flick, one of the ‘Cinemax After Dark’ type movies about two girls who were in love with the same guy but decided to get back at him for cheating on them both by dating each other.

  Caught up in the show, I didn’t hear the noise of the door opening before it was too late and Devlin entered the penthouse.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” He asked, as he came in and looked at what was on the television.

  I scrambled to turn it off but it was too late. He had already seen what was on the screen.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “What is it then? Are you telling me you don’t have some secret desire to be with another girl?”

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  When I started writing it was to fulfill my childhood dream of being an author.

  I've always been a storyteller and I've always loved romance. But it wasn't until recently that I found my true passion and hunger for the most sensual, erotic words and stories. I guess you could say I now write to fulfill my deepest adult fantasies. And I love every waking moment of it. That burning desire within me is satisfied with every zesty story that I write--and read. Fantasy, pleasure, awakening, stimulation--I can't get enough.