by Fawn Bailey
Once she was gone down the hallway, I entered the room again. Harlow wouldn’t look at me. I wondered when the cold shoulder would end.
I couldn’t get my mind off the moments when I touched her… felt her. I wanted to explain everything to her, yet I was wary of revealing too much, scaring her off. I would have to pace myself.
I walked up to her and rested a palm on her shoulder because I was a fucking sadist and I loved the pained expression on her face when I did it. But it hurt me too, the way she recoiled, never so much as giving me a second glance. I was about to move out of the way when her lips parted, her breath fogging the window.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I stroked her cheek with a single finger and walked away, not trusting myself anymore.
20 days later
She’d spoken to me every day for a week, and I was addicted to the gentle sound of her voice. I was going fucking soft on her.
She was coming out of her shell, slowly becoming the woman I needed her to be for me. I was a selfish prick, knowing I should’ve had a conscience but never finding it in myself, no matter how deep I dug.
Every time I tried to explain things to her she clamped up, but on that day, I was a man on a mission. I was going to make her listen no matter what.
She was sitting on the bed like always. I was sitting next to her, in an armchair, my elbows on my knees as I stared at her openly.
I hadn’t told her she’d basically taken over my bedroom. I’d been sleeping in a guest room for over a month. I fucking wanted to be in the same bed as her, yet I knew it was too early. I couldn’t risk breaking her before I’d put her back together again.
“Ellis was like a brother to me,” I said, and she closed her eyes tightly. She was one step away from putting her palms over her ears, shutting out my words. But I wasn’t going to let her. This time, I would force her to listen to me and finally find out the truth. “I did it to protect you.”
“Don’t you fucking dare blame me,” she snapped, glaring at me with a fierceness I’d never seen in her. “I didn’t ask you to kill him!”
“Yet you wanted him dead,” I said.
“So did you, you’re the one who killed him,” she whispered.
I couldn’t argue with that logic. Once again though, I felt the magnetic pull between us telling me to touch her. I resisted.
“You will learn all about me soon enough,” I told her. “But you should know this isn’t a bad place.”
“No?” she asked mockingly. “What about Amber?”
“Amber,” I growled. “Was brought here by Ellis, and you can blame him for it, not me.”
“What about me?” she whispered. “Did Ellis pick me, too?”
I stared into her eyes.
“No,” I finally replied. “You’re mine. My pick. You have been from the beginning.”
I let the dust settle between us, and then she spoke up again.
“All the other women,” she went on. “In the house. The naked girl… the others. What about them?”
“They are here because they want to be,” I told her, and she smirked. “I am not lying to you, Harlow.”
The way she responded to her name on my lips fucking killed me.
“Most of them have survived being trafficked,” I went on. “They are here to recover, and will leave eventually, when they are ready. Some of them have been… broken.”
She stared at me accusingly.
“Some minds cannot endure being broken without craving it again and again,” I explained. “Those women will be willingly sold to a new owner.”
“And you’ll pocket the money,” she said bitterly.
I didn’t deny it.
She shook her head dismissively and looked away.
“What about me?” she asked moments later. “Do I get to leave, ever?”
Once again, her eyes were on me. Begging.
I wanted to lie to her. I really fucking did. But when I opened my mouth, the truth spilled out.
“No,” I said simply. “You don’t leave me.”
“Ever?” Her voice was the softest whisper. Begging for freedom. Begging to be without me.
“Never,” I replied. “You’re the only one I took. The only one I’ll keep. The only one… without a say.”
It sent her into shock. Her body trembled uncontrollably until I grew worried. She was having a panic attack. I’d seen it before with other girls, and I knew how to deal with it.
I got on the bed with her. I covered her body with mine and she shrieked when I did it.
Then, her eyes found mine.
She stopped screaming. She just stared. The shakes went away, replaced by a need in her eyes I wasn’t sure she understood.
But I did.
I needed to touch her. I couldn’t take another second of our skin not touching, of my tongue not being inside her mouth. I pulled her closer, my hands ripping into her dress, forcing her under my strong body. She whimpered, her little hands going to my chest and attempting to push me back. Slowly, I kissed her. Our first kiss since that night. Not innocent but filled with pain and lust for her fucking body, her mind, her soul. The more I tried to hold back, the more urgent my kisses became.
She moaned, her fingers winding into the fabric of my shirt as she pulled me closer.
“Thorn…” she mumbled, setting my senses on high alert.
It was a question, an accusation, a mix of hate and fear and lust and need. And I kissed her with more urgency, showing her just how much I needed this, needed her to beg me to keep going and finally take what was mine. My fucking woman, my girl underneath me, her legs quaking from the need to split open and invite me inside. I could see it in her eyes, the need to submit taking over her until her legs fell open and she let out a little gasp when I position my crotch over her cunt.
“You need this.” It was a statement, not a question. “You need me to fuck you. You’ve tried so hard to deny it. Tried so hard to pretend this fucking… need… wasn’t there…”
I rubbed my thumb over her panties and she cried out. She was smooth and shaved. I’d ensured it with Pia’s help. I could feel her wetness through the thin fabric of her panties. She was fucking leaking all over my fingers. She wanted this as badly as I did. I couldn’t get enough of it, the scent of her aroused pussy filling my nostrils and making me never want to stop.
“You’re seconds away from begging,” I whispered against her lips, sucking her bottom lip between my teeth and biting down hard. I wouldn’t let go when she tried to move away, holding on tightly and threatening to bite deeper if she tried to get away again. “So beg, Harlow. Fucking beg to have my cock inside your tight little cunt. Come on, let me hear how desperate you are, let me see you come apart for me…”
She was whimpering, crying with no tears, little mewls escaping her lips and begging, fucking begging me to go on without saying a word to that effect.
“Say it,” I taunted her. “I want to hear you beg, Harlow, so beg me like a dirty little slut. Beg to be fed cum and to be fucked into a mess. Beg.”
“P-Please,” she stuttered. “Oh God, please, please, please make it better.”
“Please what?” I asked her, my fingers wrapping around her throat reminding her of who was who in our little game. “Call me by my name… Address me like you should.”
“Thorn,” she gasped. “Please Thorn, please.”
“Thorn?” I asked her. “Are we forgetting something?”
I could see the struggle going on inside her. The moment before she broke down and let me have her completely.
“Say it,” I urged her again. “Fucking say it, you know it’s true.”
“M… Master,” she whispered, and the second she did, a low, trembling exhale left her lips and I plunged my cock inside her, wetting myself with her juices, claiming what had been mine all along and reminding her exactly who she belonged to.
She cried out when I did it, but it was too late for me. Too late to worry about hurti
ng her or it being too soon. Her legs spread for me, wrapping around my waist and crossing at the ankles, holding me tightly. I started fucking, thrusting, taking what was mine. With every damn thrust I wanted to let her know one thing and one thing only. So, I told it to her, over and over again while my cock fed on her juicy little cunt.
“You belong to me,” I growled against her mouth, her sobs mixing with moans against my lips. “This is mine. You are mine. I’m never letting go. You’ll never get away. I’ll never. Fucking. Ever. Let you go.”
Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, making me unable to stop, even when I knew I was hurting her, my cock stretching her beyond her limits and making her squeal in pain and pleasure combined.
“Master,” she breathed. “Please… please more, don’t stop. Keep going. Keep hurting me, keep loving me, I need it, I need you. Please.”
“Say it,” I grunted. “Fucking tell me.”
I grabbed a handful of her perky little tits and she hissed when my fingers flicked her nipples into hard, trembling points. She didn’t dare make a move to stop me though, knowing better than anyone that her body wouldn’t have let her anyway. Not when I could bring her this kind of pleasure, not when I could give her what she’d been looking for her entire life.
“I…” Her voice was raw. Ragged. “I’m yours.”
“What’s mine?” I demanded, my cock punishing her pussy with swift thrusts that reached deep inside of her. “What’s mine, Harlow? Tell me which part of you is mine.”
“All of me.” She swallowed, her eyes finding mine and clinging desperately. “All yours.”
“Is this mine?” I squeezed her breast hard, knowing I’d leave bruises. I made sure to hurt her because I lived for the mix of shock and lust on her face when she realized she loved it. “Are these my tits?”
“Yours,” she whispered. “Your tits, Master.”
“And this pussy,” I went on, stopping my thrust and keeping my tip just barely inside her, threatening to slip it out and sending her wild. “Who does this pussy belong to?”
“You know already,” she rasped, and I laughed in her face, pulling out.
She went fucking mental on me, her hands flying out and scratching, forcing me back, pulling me against her, thrusting those hips at me, making it impossible to resist her fucking cunt. I sank back in, and she fell back with a sigh of relief, seconds later melting into needy moans as I fucked her, crashing against her cervix with the tip of my cock and knowing there was no way I could go deeper.
“Your pussy,” she whispered helplessly like I’d finally fucking defeated her.
“Yeah?” My voice was gentle, kind. “My pussy? My little fuckhole? You want me to make it feel better? Fucking soothe that tight little cunt?”
“Yeah,” she begged. “Please Master, make it better, just don’t stop yet.”
On an impulse I pulled out of her, my head going between her legs and sucking the sweet honey out of her pussy. She tasted divine, like everything I’d been waiting for, even more delicate and special than what I remembered from the playroom. I was a fucking goner. Addicted to her, to the juice she made, the sounds falling from her lips, the way she hated me so fucking much and yet knew with absolute certainty that I was the only man for her, that it was meant to be.
“I will,” I promised her. “Harlow, look at me.”
She opened those gorgeous eyes wide, staring into mine. So many things I wanted to say to her. So many soothing, sweet, loving little things I could have said to make her feel better. And yet I searched between them, walking down the field of flowers and picking the only rose, its thorns prickly and harsh, its beauty cruel. My words were meant to hurt her and hurt they did.
“I’m never letting you leave,” I said softly. “I’m never letting you go. You won’t dance again. You won’t see your parents again. I’m not letting go. I’m not letting you free. Do you understand?”
My heart pounded and my cock throbbed beside her, and I knew I’d fucked up, but I’d had to tell her what I felt, had to make her understand that she was the one thing I couldn’t give up. My one mistake, my one fucking vice. Of all my sins, the nastiest, most unforgivable one – keeping her caged, fucking trapped, making her my captive. She would never be a free woman. If she was going to get away from me, she would have to escape. She could try, of course. But unless I knew I was doing her irreparable damage, unless I realized this wasn’t what she fucking needed, I would keep my rose. Keep her blooming for me forever.
She stared at me, eyes wide and wondering. She knew I was telling the truth, that I’d be unable to let go of her, no matter what happened. Someone would have to rip her out my arms to stop me holding her, and I would’ve liked to meet the man who’d try.
“Say you understand,” I prompted her. “Say you want me to keep you.”
“Keep me,” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. “Keep me, Master, will you keep me?”
“Forever,” I promised, and leaned down against her, devouring her mouth in a kiss so savage I drew blood from her bottom lip.
I could feel her coming when she tasted the metallic taste in her mouth, her body coming apart. I worked on it, fucking, hitting that spot inside her, making her flutter those eyes open as I worked her into a release she would never forget. I knew how easily she came, but I wanted to make it count with every orgasm she was allowed to have. I was going to play with her until she broke, put her back together, and keep fucking her into the next day, keeping those damn orgasms just out of her grasp until she was desperate for every lick of pleasure I let her have.
She would be addicted. She was already on the path to it, a starved little sex kitten begging for my attention. I would only make it worse. Knead, shape and force her into what pleased me and my cock.
“Beg me to come,” I growled, and she hissed into my mouth like a vicious little animal.
“Come,” she whispered. “Come inside me, make it better so I won’t feel how much you’ve hurt me.”
“More,” I grunted. I was on the verge. My cock was already twitching, more desperate for her than I’d ever been. “Tell me your cunt needs it. Tell me how you need my cum inside you to warm you up, Harlow.”
“Like I need to breathe,” she said softly, and I looked into her eyes knowing she was telling me the truth.
In that moment, she was heart-stoppingly beautiful beneath me, her vulnerable body adjusting to me, her heart broken yet ready for more, another beating, another session of being glued together and smashed into pieces again. And I didn’t know which one of us had it worst, I just knew I was a raging addict, and she was the drug only I was allowed to get high on. Because as the only man who’d tasted it, I meant to keep it that way, protecting her with jealousy and possessiveness that rocked me to my very core.
I let myself come then, stopped resisting the urge to keep going, keep fucking, keep taking her innocence and keep ripping her apart so I could put her together later. I took mercy on her and pumped her hot little snatch full of warm jizz, spurting inside her and thrusting my cock in after to push it deeper into her womb. No condom, nothing between us. Just like the first time. This time, I wasn’t even sure I’d let Pia give her the morning after pill. I fucking wanted to claim her completely. Put my baby in her belly. Fucking chain her to my bed and breed that cunt until she was carrying my damn kid.
The sounds she made were heavenly, and I found myself falling for them. The little whimpers, the whispered pleases, the way her fingers were rigid against my back, but she never dug her nails into my skin, too fucking afraid of what I’d do to her if she hurt me.
“I know what you want,” I told her. “You can keep pretending, Harlow, but I’ve always fucking known you would want this. Admit it to yourself.”
She twisted her face away painfully, and I kissed her neck, resisting the urge to bite down and lick her.
“You were meant for this,” I whispered, pulling my cock out and making her gasp as a trickle of our juices ran down her a
ss. “You were meant to be submissive. To be my captive. I can read you like an open book. You wanted this since you were a little girl, didn’t you? You wanted to let go of the control.”
She sobbed suddenly as if it was just then that the realization had hit her. That she wanted to be the victim. That she fucking loved being my hostage.
“I’ll never let go,” I promised her, and she shook with inexplicable rage and need.
I held her close. I allowed her this moment of weakness. Of showing her nothing but affection, of kissing her tears and licking the salty trails they left down her cheeks. She needed it.
“Thank you,” she whispered finally, and I smoothed her hair away as she crawled onto my lap, her eyes burning with fire. “Thank you for taking me.”
21
Carina
I knew he would come and find me.
I knew if I stirred up enough trouble, the mysterious man I’d only seen once would punish me, warn me against him.
Life had been lonely since Harlow had left. Lonely and boring, and it made me obsess over why Harlow had been chosen for the training program over me. Yes, I knew she’d outshined me in our performance of The Nutcracker. Even though she was dancing in a smaller role, she’d done better than me. She was incredible that night. I’d gotten an offer for a larger ballet, but that was it. After that performance, I was quickly forgotten.
Amber being chosen as the next one to leave was the final nail in my coffin. They’d chosen someone else over me again, and I couldn’t forgive them for it. I was going to find out exactly where the program was, and I was going to join it myself if it was the last thing I ever did. Once I got something into my head, I didn’t stop until I fucking got it.
There was something else on my mind, though. Something I’d worked hard to forget because the events of that night felt like something out of a dream.
But it was there nevertheless. I had met a man. A dangerous, dark man capable of horrible things. He’d proven it when he’d killed someone in front of my very eyes. And not just anyone. The father of my unborn child.
