Seven Deadly Sinners

by Dark Angel

  I’m almost willing to bet Caroline isn’t very experienced sexually—she’s possibly even a virgin.

  Fuck, that makes my cock harden.

  The idea of sating myself on an untouched pussy is the ultimate temptation for me.

  I grit my teeth and drag her along behind me. No time for distractions right now. We run a smooth operation here. The strip club is high-class with only the best of the best pussy available.

  As for me? I head up a lucrative gunrunning business on the streets of New York. I have a unique fascination with guns. My appetite must be wetted for me to purchase a one. I can identify any weapon based on its smell and taste. More than anything, I'm an expert and that's why they call me the best.

  I can identify a weapon with my eyes closed. Just give me a whiff and I’m able to match it. Guns and knives turn me on by their metallic quality and especially if they’ve been used.

  That acrid scent of gunpowder right after a gun’s been fired, well, nothing can top that besides the taste of pussy. And this girl will be my next stop. I’ll lick and suck her tits and pussy so well that she’ll be spreading her legs for me and taking my cock in no time.

  Her hand is small, clutched in my viselike grip as I pull her through the club. If she's terrified, she doesn't show it except by the slight tremble of her hand that’s so subtle only I would notice.

  It's my thing to pick up on the subtle nuances of people. I can see the true motives of anyone just by observing them for a few minutes, so abnormally heightened are my senses.

  "Where are we?" Caroline timidly asks, and a normal person wouldn’t hear her over the din of the music. But I can. I’m attuned to the slightest variations in the tone and texture of someone's voice.

  "We’re on the corner of Seventh Avenue and 49th St," I say, leaning in close to speak over the music. While I’m in her personal space, I take the opportunity to breathe her in.

  Fuck.

  She smells just as delicious as I imagine she tastes, and my cock strains against my zipper, begging to claim her. "You're at the headquarters of Sin, Inc."

  Her jade eyes widen at the name.

  "It's gonna be okay," I promise, though I have no idea if it will be okay for her. From what I know, she's at the center of some drama with Edwin, who at this point is our arch-nemesis.

  "Who's in charge here? You?" Her voice is an interesting combination of nerves and curiosity.

  I laugh at the idea. "Nope, I'm just part of the operation. The man you're asking about is Archibald Cox. He’s the leader and involved in all manner of criminal enterprise. The

  seven of us, these guys—” I gesture toward my crew who have dispersed around the club and are making their way separately up to the penthouse, “—we're all Vice Presidents of Sin, Inc., and we work together on everything."

  I eye her up and down and think about how the seven of us will probably devour her in the near future. She’s so fucking curvy and juicy. There’s no way we’ll be able to resist. Or even want to. Just looking at her, smelling her, hearing her voice has my senses on overdrive.

  I lead her through the strip joint and past the luxury VIP rooms into a marble lobby that leads to the elevator. Neither of us say anything as the doors whoosh closed and the cage rises to the top of the tall building where she’ll be kept in isolation.

  "You won't be leaving here anytime soon," I whisper against her neck as we climb higher in the elevator. Menacingly. Ominously.

  Caroline lifts her eyes to mine. "I'm not sure I want to."

  Her comment surprises the fuck out of me, and I chuckle. I immediately know that this one has a vixen buried deep inside. So deeply she may not even know it yet.

  She looks like the picture of innocence but her comment would reveal otherwise. And all it makes me want is to dive in and pull it to the surface, ravaging her until she’s a filthy, needy mess.

  We're the only two in this elevator, and I want to pull the emergency brake so that I can get to her first, ravage her and take her to the heights of ecstasy before her imprisonment begins. In truth, it’s begun already. It happened the minute her father gave her away. Some father he is.

  Samuel texted us about the whole ordeal, and I’m fucking shocked that her own father would voluntarily give her up as collateral. After all these years in this business, I shouldn’t be, but something about Caroline makes it hard to believe there’s anyone out there who wouldn’t do anything it took to protect her.

  If I’d been there, I would've killed the fucker.

  Apollo, the unofficial leader of our pack, said that we’re to be kind to Caroline and treat her with decency, so that's what I'm doing. I refrain from taking her right here in the elevator no matter how badly my depraved desires want to take over.

  My cock is pressing hard against my pants, and I notice her downcast eyes peering at it. When she looks back up at me, I give her a sinister smile so she knows I caught her looking, and the shudder that wracks her body makes me wish Apollo hadn’t issued the order.

  Fuck, I want her.

  Thankfully the elevator opens to the top floor just then, and Caroline's reaction is quickly forgotten as she takes in the penthouse. She's trying not to look impressed but she must be. No one could come in this place and not gawk. It's top of the line and features every luxury and modern convenience known to man. There could be no better place for this delicate beauty to be held hostage. It will agree with her.

  I'm dying to strip her down to nothing and to own that gorgeous body. The scent wafting off her is one of roses combined with a tinge of fear, which is the perfect cocktail for me.

  My mouth is watering wanting to sink my tongue into her tight little pussy that I'm sure is ripe with aromatic juices. Juices that no man has ever tasted before. I want to be the first. Every part of me is aroused and I make sure she senses my hungry desire.

  She walks through the penthouse slowly, examining all the features, the art, the kitchen, the couches, and all the smooth surfaces. She settles on the view and the rest of my crew reconvenes in here to watch as she steps out on the balcony.

  I move to follow but Apollo says, “Give her a moment.”

  I watch her look over the edge. There’s no place to run. This palace in the sky is her new home. She clutches the glass edge of the terrace and looks so far over it that for a second I think she might jump.

  I wouldn’t blame her, really. Caroline, this new beautiful girl, has lost everything tonight. I wouldn’t blame her a bit for wanting to end it.

  But she pulls back with something like resolve on her face and I know she’s determined to get through this. At least now I still have the opportunity to taste her.

  Back inside, she silently allows herself to be led to her new room. Her new prison.

  Chapter 6

  Caroline

  I follow one of the men as he leads me to my room, my new gilded cage on top of the world. I feel numb by now, having experienced so much. Are these men going to rape me? Or—and the thought takes me by surprise—will I give myself to them willingly?

  I can’t deny the way they make me feel. I’m sure they could make me feel a whole lot better, too.

  And it’s clear what I’ve been doing to them from the fact that not one of them can be around me without their cocks fighting to get to me. I bite my lip, trying to tamp down the rush of desire.

  What’s their plan for me? Why am I here? In this towering penthouse that should feel like a dream world on top of the city, I feel only astonishment and regret.

  Justin escorts me down a long hallway that’s adorned with one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. I look out on the glittering lights and think of all the normal people getting to celebrate their Christmas in peace.

  Meanwhile, I’m up here with my life suspended in midair. Who knows if I'll make it out alive?

  Justin shows me to an incredibly lavish room with an adjoining bathroom.

  “This is your new home. I hope you like it.”

  Can he really m
ean that? Does he care whether I live or die?

  “I’ll leave you to it.” Then he’s gone.

  I’m alone to delve into my own dark thoughts. I walk along the plush carpet to the window. It's not locked, but we're about forty-five stories up.

  There's nowhere to go, nowhere to run, even if I wanted to. A part of me thinks that anywhere besides my father’s house is good since he just tossed me aside. And to see him so weak in the face of danger just makes me think I’ve had him all wrong.

  My step-mother is dead and I never really liked her. I feel traumatized by what happened. Am I next? And what is this irrational attraction I feel towards these men?

  It’s as if my sane mind has been overtaken by primal passion. Is this what happens when you’ve been through something traumatic?

  I don’t know. The only thing that’s completely clear is that I’m glad I’m not back in my father’s house right now.

  I'm still dressed to the nines in my Christmas Eve attire, just a silky little white dress and of course, my heels. Can't go anywhere without them, even on a kidnapping escapade. I wonder how I'm going to survive the frigid city winter in just these two things.

  If I ever get to leave this room, that is.

  I wander into the closet to get out of my dress, and to my total surprise, I find it’s stocked with everything from Gucci to Fendi to Prada. There are casual jeans, cashmere tees, sexy dresses, silk pajamas...everything a girl could want.

  I check the labels and they're all in my size, some maybe a little too tight, and I’m thinking that’s on purpose. It’s crazy that they already managed to stock all this in here for me, but I’m not gonna lie, this closet makes me happy. At least I won't be without the comforts of home.

  I glide my fingers along the impeccably placed outfits and imagine the looks on my captors’ faces when they see me in some of these. My thoughts turn dirty at the idea of being the only woman in a house full of filthy, sexy men. I can’t explain it, but the sheer power and strength radiating from them all has my mind going places it never has before.

  The stakes are high in this game I’m suddenly a part of, and I'm willing to gamble. If I can get them to want me, then maybe I stand a chance of surviving this. It’s not like it would be too hard.

  Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t have needs too. And being here—kept as these men’s prisoner—is showing me that some of my needs are darker than I ever realized.

  Justin was hard for me. I wonder what it would be like to have a taste of his cock. I've never done anything like that before, but suddenly it's practically all I can think about.

  I saw the way all seven of them reacted to me. I’d have to be blind not to. I’m pretty sure they want me too.

  What would it be like to have such rough, deadly men ravage my body? I lick my lips at this fantasy.

  That's probably all it will ever be, a fantasy. They’re my prison guards, not my boyfriends. But now that my mind is going to those naughty places, I can’t seem to stop.

  I slip out of my gauzy dress and go back into the main bedroom. Sitting on the soft duvet, I try to quiet my mind and contemplate my new surroundings.

  I'd give anything not to be alone right now, to even be with one of my captors as long as it would take my mind off all that's happened.

  My stepmother...dead.

  My father...more depraved and unloving than I even realized.

  And me...held for ransom which I'm not sure my father even cares to deliver. I’m just alone.

  Surrounded by luxury? Yes. But ultimately, I’m alone here and alone in this world. And perhaps not even that for much longer.

  What if they kill me? I mean, they're certainly putting in the effort to make me comfortable. But who knows what's going on and if their boss will allow me to live.

  My father could be on a plane to the Cayman Islands for all I know. And I’m here. Utterly abandoned.

  I reflect on what I said to Samuel. I wasn't kidding, I'm glad to be taken away from that house. I was drowning there.

  Even though I'm shocked that Mary’s gone, she was such a bitch and she stole my father away from my poor mother.

  My mom…

  She’s been wasting away ever since my father left her, and it's devastating. I haven't even had a chance to check in and make sure she’s making it because my father forbids me to ever visit her. To have any contact with her.

  He said if I spent Christmas with my mom, he would not only disown me but I’d find my mother dead, too. What kind of monster says that?

  This is why it’s easy for me to have no remorse for leaving him. I’m only just starting to see the scope of what he’s involved in. He gave me away to criminals, and what does it say about him that I'm already happier here than I was with him?

  I smooth my hands over the nice pillows and sink down into them. It feels so good to rest my weary body in a soft place. I don't even care that I’m in captivity.

  I’m just glad to be away from my evil father. I don't care how long I live, just that my last moments will at least be away from him.

  And with attractive men. That dirty voice in my head keeps popping up, sending shivers through my body.

  How sad that I could die a virgin. Had I known it would turn out this way, maybe I would’ve played my cards differently. But I've never met a man so irresistible that I couldn’t think about anything but sleeping with him.

  Before today, that is.

  I know I shouldn't, but I’m thinking about my captors again, now in all kinds of filthy ways. There's so much testosterone raging through them, and just imagining them makes me wet. I’m suddenly desperate for some kind of relief. I spread my legs and slide my fingers along my clit, rubbing and teasing myself.

  I think about Samuel, Ares, Justin—all of them—so hot in their individual ways. And the idea that I am cooped up here with them, that they control my every move and there's no way out, well, that has me so wet I know I'm making a giant, sticky mess on the bed.

  I don’t fully understand it, but there’s no denying it. I have all this pent-up sexual energy towards them all, and my fingers work faster as my need spirals out of control.

  I just need to find my release. I need to come. If I don't soon, I feel like my body may ignite, incinerating me with desire.

  Chapter 7

  Arsen

  I stare down at the numbers laid across my desk, trying to make fucking sense of things. It usually isn’t difficult; I handle the books day in and day out with incredible ease.

  Millions of dollars have crossed through my hands. Laundering bills, forging notes, tweaking gambling odds…nothing green is beyond my expertise. So why am I so fucking confounded now?

  It must be her. Caroline.

  I can’t get her out of my head.

  She’s a delicious creature. Her curves are fantastic. The way she carries herself, for being as innocent as I think she is, is absolutely tantalizing.

  Jesus Christ, I just can’t get any of it out of my mind. And that fucking perfect ass! I just want to sink my cock into it, balls deep.

  I have to take her for myself.

  I look down at my phone, the light glinting off its gold-plated case. Who would be the most useful and the least likely to mention things? I pick the phone up, taking a moment to appreciate the soft golden case then dial away.

  “Justin. It’s Arsen. Stop sucking off your gun for a moment. I have a question,” I say with a light laugh.

  Playing the odds, it’s not entirely unlikely he’s busy tasting his guns at the moment, even as busy as we all are. Weird ass motherfucker and his obsession with taste.

  “Where’s that girl being holed up?”

  He takes his time responding. “I wouldn’t say she’s holed up…she’s in the guest penthouse. You know the one,” he says.

  I can hear him licking his lips over the phone. Yeah, like I said, dude has some kind of oral fixation.

  “Mm…good choice, at least,” I say. “I suppos
e I’ll go see how she’s enjoying her stay so far.”

  I hang up the phone, hoping my all-consuming desire didn’t carry through my voice on the phone. I’m curious how she likes the room, as well as the things I planned out for it.

  I wouldn’t say I didn’t spare any expense, but I did go out a little more than I usually do after I saw the pictures of her, putting some extra efforts into providing her all the frilly little things a girl should appreciate.

  A girl like that can’t exactly be seen with me without looking fucking drop dead gorgeous and totally fuckable. Which she already is.

  I take an elevator to her floor. The elevator itself is on the outer edge of our building, and I have a fantastic view of the entire city as I ascend.

  The lights of Manhattan twinkle like diamonds, and I feel like their rhythmic glow is a brilliant reminder of the fact that we collectively own all of this. It’s a good feeling.

  I press my hand to the glass and grasp the entire view held in front of me. The world’s at my feet.

  The ding of the elevator rips me from my avaricious thoughts. I remember that more important—and far more interesting—matters are at hand.

  Caroline.

  The name echoes in my mind, urging me forward with the need to see her.

  I exit the elevator and head down the long hallway to her room. I could’ve taken a closer elevator but I can never really pass up a view like that one has.

  The hallway itself is fairly plain. We take some security precautions in place of a little more lavishness, which is a shame, by the way. Many of our mazelike hallways look identical to confuse anyone who thinks they’re bold enough to try to explore or invade without our permission. I, of course, know every inch without any trouble.

  Reaching her door, I raise my hand to knock out of sheer habit. I stop myself, remembering that she is, in fact, our prisoner. We want her to have certain comforts, but also to remember why she’s here and who she is.

  I open the door silently and peek around. Curiously, she’s not immediately visible in the main sitting room area. The bathroom door is open and the light is off, so no sign of her there either.