by J. E. Taylor
* * * *
The world went fuzzy and she swallowed trying to satiate a mouth gone dry. She blinked, focusing on the two men crowding her before she turned toward him.
“What did you give me?” She stumbled back onto the couch and he leaned close, his blue eyes intense bordering on irritation but his voice was just as smooth as the silk dress caressing her skin.
“Just a little something to help you relax and enjoy.”
He nodded to his brothers and took a seat at the table, picking up the video camera and pointing it in her direction, one eye planted in the scope and the other squinted closed, his jaw clamped tight.
The drug settled into her skin, numbing her, making her movements sluggish like the components of a nightmare and a wet dream smashed together. Hands caressed her, sliding the skirt up, rubbing her and plunging into her wetness. The slinky dress soon in tatters as mouths and hands satisfied her, probing, licking, and biting. She moaned and a hard cock locked it in her throat. She sucked, moving her mouth up and down the hard shaft.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him staring over the top of the camera at the lewd scene, his eyes blazing daggers in her direction and she laughed around the cock in her mouth, giving a great show of pleasuring the All American Boy just for his benefit.
* * * *
They had her on her hands and knees, Chris fucking her mouth and Frank fucking her from behind. And the bitch was playing it up, moving, writhing, moaning, sucking and sending sly glances in his direction all the while. Ty watched with growing anger, she was enjoying this to spite him. His aching member throbbed against the fabric of his jeans, dying to step in and explore the depth of her mouth, the depth of her pussy, the depth of her soul, dying to hear her call his name in that sensual moaning voice. He clenched the camera tighter, refocusing the lens, zooming in on her face, her lips sliding along his brother’s cock.
Anger did not begin to describe the liquid poison burning his veins. She knocked herself out when I touched her and they—they get this sexy wild cat?
He looked over the camera again watching as his brother arched in her mouth, shooting his load down her throat. And she sucked and swallowed through Chris’s moans.
Chris stepped out of the shot and she stared at Ty, the sly smile still playing on her lips, moving, slamming her hips into each of Frank’s frantic thrusts, until he seized, groaning and gyrating as the after tremors rippled his muscles.
Ty dropped the camera on the table and walked over, oblivious of his two brothers dressing behind him, and knelt in front of Jessica on the couch. He tilted her chin and unzipped his pants. “My turn.”
She looked up at him in a drugged haze. “Not in a million years,” she slurred and passed out.
Rage overwhelmed him and he hopped off the couch grabbing a chair and smashed it against the wall. Splinters flew and he rammed it again and again and again until all he held was two twisted rails that were once the frame of the chair. Tossing those away, he snarled at both Chris and Frank, “Get her out of here before I kill her!”
Ty paced like a caged lion staring at the screen. They slipped her into a nightshirt and left her sprawled on the mattress. He caught the way Frank glanced at her before he left the room and his fury overflowed. He swung his fist at the closet door, cracking the fiberboard.
The flare of pain tempered his anger a notch and he shook his hand, rewinding the room video to earlier today.
Frank and Chris walked into the control room and Ty turned on them, pointing to the screen. “Who is Smallville?”
“Huh?” they both said in unison.
Ty pressed play on the disc and the screen filled with her pinned to the wall.
They watched as he said “Beg” and her response was “It’s not like you’re Smallville and I had reason to beg. Get your hands off me you twisted freak.”
Ty stopped the tape. “What is that?”
Frank shrugged his shoulders.
Chris stared at the screen, his brows creased. “I think she’s talking about a television show,” he answered.
It was Ty’s turn to say “Huh?”
“There’s a show on TV called Metropolis,” Chris answered looking from one brother to the other. “C’mon, you haven’t seen it?”
They shook their heads.
Chris looked at Jessica on the screen and then glanced at his watch. “I’ll bring you copy the next time I’m here. I’ve gotta go. I’ll be back next weekend and if you want some of my buddies for the next video let me know. I’m sure they’d love to have a piece of that.” He nodded toward the screen with a smile.
Frank glared at him. “You’d better not be blabbing about this operation to anyone. I wouldn’t want to see them get into an accident or something,” he said and stepped toward his youngest brother.
Chris took an involuntary step backwards. “Just giving you a hard time, Frank.”
Frank reached out, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him so they were face to face. “If you so much as breathe a word of this,” he said pointing to the screens. “There’s no telling where you’ll end up.” He smiled and let Chris go.
“Back off Frank,” Ty warned and stepped between Frank and Chris. They stared each other down and Frank stepped away, wary of the scowl on Ty’s face. “He’s not going to say a thing.” Ty shot a glance over his shoulder and received a nod in return.
Chris looked at the monitor and back to Ty. “I gotta go,” he said and walked out of the room.
Ty watched the monitor as his little brother lumbered to the elevator. “He was just trying to get a rise out of you.”
Frank grunted in response, he was watching the other monitors. He glanced at Ty and swatted the back of his head. “What the hell is your problem today?”
Ty shot to his feet ready to plant his fist in Frank’s face, instead he pointed at the monitor where Jessica slept. “It’s her fault.” He bit back the rest of the response, suddenly aware of the way his stepbrother was ogling her. Frank was dangerous and if he had an inkling of what Jessica did to him, he would kill her with his own hands. “She laughed at me.” He slid his hands in his pockets and returned his gaze to the monitors. “It pissed me off, that’s all.”
Frank looked at the monitor again, nodded and started out of the room. He looked over his shoulder. “Put the tape together of her.” He pointed at Jessica. “Everything, not just us, she was willing with us, and they don’t want to see that.”
Oh great. He wants to showcase MY humiliation.
Ty nodded and turned back to the monitors. Frustration simmered below the surface and he began the task of editing the scenes in her room with the scenes with his brothers.
Chapter 9
Eric’s little hand ran over her hair and bruised face.
“Oh, Mom,” he said and tears ran down his cheeks. “You’re hurt.”
She slowly opened her eyes and looked at her son. “Angel boy.”
“You’re hurt,” Eric repeated.
“Not so bad,” Jessica whispered and tried to smile. Stiff and sore, every muscle in her body hurt.
Eric leaned over her and kissed her cheek where Ty elbowed her. The bruise faded and his tears fell onto her upturned face.
“Don’t cry, baby,” she said. “Lay down. It’s past your bedtime.”
“Mommy.” He cried and lay down snuggling in her outstretched arms.
She closed her eyes and hugged him, smelling the sweet scent of his shampoo. “Shhhh,” she cooed and fell back asleep.
Chapter 10
Ty caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked at the monitors. Jessica moved. He couldn’t quite hear what she was saying so he turned the volume up and zoomed the camera in.
“Not so bad,” she said.
A second later, there was a weird light on her cheek and Ty watched the bruise fade. His jaw dropped.
“Don’t cry, baby. Lay down, it’s past your bedtime,” she whispered and a moment later wrapped her arms around the a
ir next to her. “Shhhh,” she said and her eyes closed with a peaceful smile on her face.
Ty just stared at the monitor. Normally, he’d chalk it up to talking in her sleep, but the absence of the black and blue bruise on her cheek snuck under his skin, festering until he got up to investigate with his own eyes. He opened the door soundlessly and stepped in. Her arms were on the bed next to her and she was sound asleep. Ty rolled her on her back to get a closer look at her face. The bruise was gone and her cheek was wet. He gently wiped the wetness with his finger and tasted it. Tears. “Huh,” he grunted aloud. She stirred at neither his touch nor his voice.
He looked at her for a long time, wondering again about the wisdom of snatching her from her nice quiet life. He sighed and stood, heading back to the control room to finish the new video. He played what he edited so far. He toggled between her with his brothers and her knocking herself out, flipping back and forth between the two shots at least ten times. He turned the editing suite off in disgust as her words echoed in his ears.
“Not this time,” he mumbled and stood, crossing to the toy drawer. He pulled out four pairs of handcuffs, some rope, a pair of scissors and the lighting/camera remote and headed back to her room.
Jessica lay partially on her back, her right arm out on the bed and her left hand on her stomach. One leg curled and the other straight. He stood over her and inhaled, scanning her perfect skin and licked his lips.
This is going to be so worth it!
He leaned down, took her left hand putting one of the sets of cuffs on her wrist, and closed it gently. He didn’t want her to wake just yet. He slowly lay her arm so that it was shoulder height and at the edge of the mattress and he hooked the other side of the cuffs to the loop he had made in the end of the rope. He tied the rope to an anchor in the floor next to the mattress. He repeated this with her right hand and looked down at her. She looked like a cross and he pulled her legs straight down, pausing as her head tilted to the side.
After a moment, he cuffed each ankle, securing her legs to the corners of the mattress. Spread eagle, like the outer reaches of a snow angel and he smiled, removing his shirt and settling on the bed next to her, waiting.
He ran his hands over her nightgown, feeling the soft mountains of her chest beneath. His hand wandered down to her bare legs and he slowly ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh, testing, teasing.
Her gasp caught his attention and he looked into her wide brown eyes, chuckling as he reached for the remote. He gradually increased the lighting in the room and leaned on his elbow next to her.
“Not in a million years?” he asked putting the remote down. “You showed my brothers the time of their life last night.” He reached for the scissors without breaking eye contact.
Jessica’s eyes widened. “Brothers?”
“Mhm.” He nodded and ran the scissors over the nightshirt. “Brothers. But I get, ‘not in a million years’ from you.” He hesitated gliding the scissors over her underwear. “Twice,” he said and slid on top of her, getting on his knees. Grabbing the hem of her nightgown, he cut it straight up the center and swept the torn fabric aside to reveal her breasts.
He smiled. “There’s nothing here to knock yourself out with, so it looks like a million years is today.” He took her breasts in his hands and leaned over to kiss her neck.
Jessica turned her head sharply away from him just as he expected. “No,” she whispered and struggled against the bonds.
He kissed her ear and licked the side of her throat. “Yes,” he whispered and sat up again. He scooted forward and reached for his zipper.
“I swear I’ll bite it off,” Jessica said angrily. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes and she turned her head to the side.
“Mhm,” he purred and moved down her body, his hands sliding over her like silk. His mouth found her nipple, rolling it around the hard nub before moving on to the next one.
* * * *
Tears blurred her vision and he continued his exploration of her breasts. When he looked up at her, his eyes sparkled with delight, positively smoldering. Jessica turned her head away; the look in his eyes drove her over the edge as much as the feel of his hands did. The feel of him, the smell of his cinnamon toothpaste, the sharp blue eyes framed by those ebony lashes and his velvet voice all ran through her like a poison setting her skin on fire. But she refused to give in, to give him what he wanted, to lose this battle of wills, because losing meant the end to her survival.
“This is only the beginning,” he chuckled. He shifted, kneeling between her legs, leaning over and licking her stomach. His hands, his velvet fingertips ran up the inside of each of her thighs and over the front of her underwear. “Million years is coming today,” he said and reached for the scissors. He cut both sides of her underwear and whipped them across the room.
“No,” she whispered desperately, his touch igniting her.
“Oh yes,” he smiled and began the erotic massage with his fingers at first, then his mouth, seducing her completely with his expert touch.
He played her body like a fine concert pianist, slowly building the fire up to an inferno that flashed, peaking in a rush of hot liquid and she gasped, betrayed by her body, betrayed by the hint of a moan. “No!” The word a complete lie, her body ached for him and wrapped around the motion of his fingers, trembling for more, slick with wanting…and he knew it.
“Yes,” he said and tasted the wet rush, licking and repeatedly bringing her to the next climax and the next and the next until she was dripping with sweat and sex.
“No!” she tilted her head back and twisted her wrists grabbing the metal chains that held her in place, her lungs gasping for breath, gasping for relief from the sheer pleasure of his seduction. The betrayal complete when the moan slipped from her lips.
“Beg,” he whispered. “Beg for me.”
“No,” she gasped. Her entire frame quivered. “Never!” she screamed.
* * * *
The defiance in her eyes enraged him. He pulled away slowly and hesitated, closing his eyes for a moment to gain control. Her mouth said no, but her body, oh her body sang a different tune. He opened his eyes and gazed into her fawn irises. He licked her again, smiling in satisfaction at the moan that escaped and the slight arch of her body. Oh, she wanted him, whether she said it or not, it was written in the slickness of her pussy, in the stiffness of her nipples and in the flush of her cheeks.
Tears flowed down her cheeks, pooling in her ears and he moved his way up her body, kissing, licking and gauging each of her reactions.
“Tell me you want me,” he whispered, meeting her horrified gaze.
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.
He settled on top of her, jeans the only barrier between them and he circled his hips, grinding slowly, watching sweat trickle between her breasts. The muscles in his arms ached from the strain and yet he continued, relishing the slow burn, relishing her desperate plea in the continuous chant of no. The muscles strained in her arms too, as she gripped the chains, pulling with each arch of her back. He wasn’t sure she was aware of her body’s flow, its natural arc in synch with his, meeting each of his motions with the curve of her hips. Sweet torture he could fall into for the rest of his life. It was like having one foot in heaven and the other in hell.
Her eyes spoke to him, pleading in their own rite, even as her lips refused to acknowledge his carnal appetite, her eyes drew him in, taking the breath from his lungs and the reigns over his power. He squeezed his eyes closed until he regained control. Drawing a deep breath, he opened his eyes, his arms now trembling, threatening to collapse under his weight. He looked down at her, taking what he could from the small win. She didn’t beg, but she certainly came for him.
“Million years, my ass,” he said and rolled off her onto his back.
She lay weeping and angry. “Get away from me.”
He rolled on his side and ran his fingers over her body, his lips curved in a devilish grin. “You sure? �
�Cause I could take you to heaven, babe. All you have to do is ask.”
She looked away, her jaw clenching. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said and looked at him.
The handcuff key wedged into his hip when he sat up and he fished it out of his pocket and unlocked her ankles but he didn’t untie her wrists. Instead, he just untied the ropes from the floor anchors and nodded toward the bathroom. “Go,” he said. She stumbled around the wall separating the two areas and he closed his eyes, hanging his head, shaking it slowly back and forth.
How stupid can I be?
Playing with her was one thing, but the way she consumed him, that was something he would have to keep in check. He glanced toward the bathroom, the feel of her still with him, knocking down the walls surrounding his heart.
The flushing of the toilet didn’t quite drown the sound of vomiting and he straightened, suddenly irritated. I couldn’t have read her wrong, could I?
“No way,” he whispered and stormed around the partition.
* * * *
Kneeling on the floor, she glanced in his direction, wiping her mouth with a piece of toilet paper. Whatever he had given her last night made her stomach roll the moment she stood and she barely reached the toilet. “What the hell did you give me last night?”
The lines in his forehead smoothed and he exhaled. “Liquid X. It sometimes does that.” He waved toward the toilet.
“What the hell is liquid X?” On shaky legs, she pulled herself to the sink and rinsed her mouth.
“Something like ecstasy.”
She huffed and before she could reach for a towel, he grabbed the rope, yanking her back toward the main room.
She glared at him; the anger in her eyes stopping him in the middle of the room. She stood tall, defiantly yanking her arms down by her side. Neither of them said a word.
He cocked his head to the side and let a grin surface, sliding the rope through his hands, pulling her toward him. This time, she resisted, and he hauled her across the floor, her struggle no match for his strength and he grasped the handcuffs, wrapping an arm around her, reclaiming his power.
