Seize me From Darkness (Pierced Hearts Book 4)

by Cari Silverwood

I dared to let a smile creep onto my lips.

  “Oh, I would torture you but just because I want to see you wriggle more when you come.”

  Pieter torturing me...the many ways he might do that flowed into my head. A thrill washed through me and I felt myself dampen between my legs.

  “I’m getting to know you, meisie. That turned you on, hmm?”

  Shocked, I mouthed a no, and tried to crawl backward. His hand raked into my hair and halted me.

  “You are lying. I bet I could slip inside you and fuck you like a jackhammer right now and you’d love it. You’d squirt all over the floor because, even if you won’t say it, you love being on your knees and you are a pain slut, my pain slut.”

  All through his little speech, I was increasingly trying to shake my head.

  “I don’t know why you’re so fucking stubborn but lying earns punishment. When the storm comes back, I will hold you if you want me to, but nothing more. You tell me the fucking truth. We’re here.” He swept out his other arm. “In the middle of Hell and you want to lie over something that you enjoy? And all I can think is that I’m not worthy of you. Well fok jou, to the end of bloody time. I will be your protector and make you submit to me when I want to, but do not expect friendship.”

  Tears were flowing by then and my chest seemed to have cracked right down the very middle. It was me who was unworthy. I knew it. I hurt and I was confused and I felt so bad about deceiving him that my head was a whirling muddle. But I would not let go. This was me we were talking about and he had no right to do this.

  He reached and yanked at the zip of his pants, then shoved the pants down until his cock swung free.

  Damn.

  I knew what he intended and couldn’t help staring. For ages I didn’t blink or breathe. An erection always intimidated me because once I saw it, there was only one thing the man wanted to do to me.

  In the past, I’d dithered, debated, found other things to do. Sex was like a haunted playground, but this man made me. That was the beautiful difference. That he wanted me so much he would make me do it. I’d always seen my boyfriends as wimps when they backed away.

  “Punishment. I have a hard-on that needs your mouth and you’re going to suck it like a whore because you like me forcing you.”

  The man was apparently an encyclopedia of me. How did he see me so clearly when I never knew it until now?

  He took a fistful of hair either side of my head in a grip of stone. The small pains from my pulled hair sent delicious bites of fire swimming into me.

  I gasped. Stupid mistake, as it gave him room to push the soft head of his cock into my mouth. He scrunched in his fingers, awakening more pain, and his dominance strengthened until a giant of a man seemed to have me in his grip. Nothing existed but him, as if he was the god of my mind. All powerful, all seeing. I hadn’t a fraction of freedom, and his eyes were fierce enough to cut.

  “This is skull fucking, klein poes.”

  With my hands tied, I could do nothing except be his receptacle. My eyes locked to his as he rocked himself in and out of my mouth. Saliva leaked, built in my mouth, dribbled past my lips. I’d never mastered deep throating because no man ever got a blow job for more than twenty seconds. I found out how determined he was to fuck my mouth. My retching and coughing when he slid too deep only made him halt for a few seconds. Then he plowed back in.

  A thrust went almost in to nearly balls depth and I burst into splutters.

  He fucked my mouth hard, ramming the head into the softness inside my mouth, scraping my teeth. My ears filled with the strange sounds of my gagging and humming, the soft slurping noises of his wet cock sliding on tongue, and his grunts.

  Tears streamed down my face and he paused a moment, most of the way in, to study me, my mouth full, my lips stretched wide.

  “You’re learning.”

  Lost in a world where I was only his thing to fuck, I blinked hazily up at him.

  I pulled at the tie on my wrists, reassured to find myself still bound. His thrusts became more determined. Then he stiffened and jammed himself in. A thrill vibrated along my tongue from his cock as his cum filled my mouth.

  The taste was as riveting as a drink made of warm blended mussels and snot. I retched. Pieter slid his cock from my mouth.

  The winds were lifting in noise, louder, more shrill. The cyclone. I swallowed reflexively though the taste left me grimacing.

  “Good girl. Say thank you.”

  Now we had a problem.

  I frowned and stared at the floor

  “Still not talking?” He observed me before turning to walk to the basin. As he washed himself, he added, “You can stay tied up then. If I have to hug you, you can be my little fuck toy for as long as I wish you to be.

  “What?”

  This time I began to really try, quietly, to get loose. The pillow slip shifted. One wrist slipped.

  “If you get that off,” he said, deadpan. “I will put ten more bites on you like the last one. And not just on your butt.”

  I subsided onto my heels. My gulp may have been small but he smiled.

  “Good little fuck toy.”

  “I am not –”

  “If you say anything else before I say you’re allowed to, I will put five bites on you...for every word.”

  Insufferable. And, and...

  He came to me and helped me climb onto the bed to lie on my side. “At least you don’t need food now I fed you some cum.”

  My first suck of air to angrily reply was met with such a pregnant silence that I caught myself. I couldn’t speak. If he bit me like he’d threatened to it would hurt, but worse than that, I didn’t want to disobey. I was down the rabbit hole again, in no man’s land where up was down.

  I let him pull me into his body then push my head down so my spine bowed and he could poke at the wrist tie.

  “It’s good,” he murmured. “Nothing blue. Except your butt.”

  The sudden pinch down there had me stiffening and a single whimper passed my lips.

  “I almost feel sorry for you.” His lips pressed on the back of my neck. “But I don’t, and you know why?”

  I waited.

  “Because I find I like having you quiet and tied up, as my fuck toy. I like,” he added, “saying you’re mine. Even Gregor can’t take that away. Maybe I will like making you come while you’re here in bed too.”

  I was barely hearing what he said.

  Outside, the rain had started roaring; now it was rattling down like bullets on the roof far overhead. With the storm howling like this, he hadn’t a hope of making me orgasm. I shivered. We might be drowning in a few hours.

  Little did I know.

  Screaming as I came, with his hand planted on my back, my head stuffed into the mattress, and his fingers up inside me, definitely beat shaking in fear. Was it four times, or five?

  Being made to display my pussy while he studied me, my legs spread wide on the bed, made all the other craziness fade to the background. There was method in his madness. Or he just liked looking at my body and making me obey.

  I found out, I didn’t care which it was.

  The cyclone passed over us. Pieter untied me, though by then the pillowcase bonds were only symbolic. If I was inclined to, I could have shaken them loose. I sat quietly, tired, my arms wrapped over my knees, unsure what would happen next. Pieter seemed content to let me stew.

  When the power came back on, late that night, the guards arrived through the slush and torn vegetation. I could hear the water outside as they trod on the sodden pathways. They came and they took him away. We’d said nothing more. Now, I was truly alone.

  For a dénouement to our relationship, it was a destructive way to go out. Typical Pieter.

  Somehow I both knew I was his forever, and knew I’d never let him near me again, voluntarily. I felt used, abused, overwhelmed, and on the edge of a precipice, at the bottom of which might be paradise or oblivion.

  Chapter 23

  The bag was dragged
off, revealing the outdoors, and flopping my hair across my face. I shook it aside. This was where they’d staked me out when I first arrived. Wet leaves and pieces of branches were underfoot and sticking to my soles. The cyclone had been two days ago and the ground was as mushy as porridge and strewn with rubbish and vegetation. It squished as the guard backed away.

  Since they’d left my wrists manacled at my back, and attached me with a chain from my neck to a tall, steel pole cemented into the ground, I wasn’t going far. Pity. But Jaz was here too, and I couldn’t run without her, or with all the guards around me.

  After adjusting to the glare, I checked in a circle, counting. Eight guards. Some were loading gear into two trucks that were parked on the one road out. The quadrangle was an open square between the four joined parts of the House and every door I could see was open. Were they evacuating?

  I looked up, squinting into the pale, cloud-wreathed sun. The hills overlooking us were that startling New Guinea green. It’d been too long since I’d breathed outside or sun had warmed my skin. Maybe we’d die here. Maybe this was our chance?

  I flexed my muscles, discreetly. If they freed me, would I be game to try something? With one weapon in my hand, an automatic, I might. None of the guards near me were armed with more than batons.

  My bones told me we weren’t out here to pick daisies.

  Jazmine...I had to take her too. She kneeled six yards away, still with a bag on her head. Before her, Gregor sat in a chair and beside him was an elderly man – precisely cut grayed hair, a buttoned light gray shirt, and black pants that looked ready to match the jacket thrown over the back of his chair. Sweat darkened his shirt yet he kept it on? Executive persona, from the attitude. He focused on Jazmine like she was the last woman left on Earth, and the steel in his gaze was more than the appreciation of a good fuck or a victim for his fetishes.

  This was the Client. It was a fact delivered to me by smoking meteor.

  She had no idea, poor girl. As I tried to move my arms and was brought up short, the chains clinked. I ached to grab her and run.

  This day would not end well.

  Never give in.

  “Glad you could join us, Pieter,” Gregor declared in a joyous tone. He’d say it the same way if announcing we were to be raped by wild pigs. “You are here to witness Miss Jazmine meeting her client. Perhaps we will let you join in the festivities too? Hmm?”

  The client shifted on his seat but barely glanced at me. His lips stretched as he looked at Jazmine. “Let her see me now.”

  At a click of Gregor’s fingers, a guard strode up and removed the bag. Her black hair tumbled in glossy waves down her back.

  Her head came up and I thought she stared at the client. If she recognized him, I couldn’t tell, but her fingers laced into each other as if she needed to shore herself up. Like me she was bound, only her wrists were cuffed in red leather not metal.

  My ache intensified until I wanted to grind my teeth. I went forward as much as my chain allowed me.

  “Impatient to get going, Pieter?” Gregor tsked. “You will get your turn.”

  A guard behind me laughed.

  Whatever he meant by that I really did not want to find out.

  “I want to talk to her first.” The Client leaned forward. “Do you know who I am?”

  Jazmine shook her head.

  “Say it.” Underlying all his words was this menacing tone.

  Her head must be so messed up with, in front of her, Gregor the man who skinned cops for fun, and this mystery man who had ordered her defiled and tortured.

  He’d asked if she knew him. Which meant there was some connection.

  She ducked her head, then looked up and said, “No,” in a strained voice. “I don’t.”

  “Aren’t you going to beg me to free you?”

  As if he would. Loaded question.

  Her chest expanded then she breathed out roughly. “I know you won’t.”

  “Smart woman, but you always were too smart, as well as vicious. My name...” He rose to his feet, walked to her side, and bent to whisper.

  All she did was shake her head then stop.

  “Ahh. Have you remembered? Do you know why you have to pay?”

  “I... I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

  “You think it was nothing? He’s dead, and his wife and kid. Maybe you missed that little bit of news?”

  “No. Is that tru –” She swung her head and looked up at him. “No, I didn’t know, but I had nothing to –”

  The crack as he slapped her, then her fall to the side, seemed as lethal as a bullet. My head filled with anger that buzzed into my forehead. My teeth ached. It took a moment before I figured out why, and made myself relax my jaw.

  He helped her back to a sitting position then released her upper arm and wiped his palm on his pants. “You will pay for the rest of your life. I find I like seeing you fucked over day by day. At first I meant to have you killed, but no. I’m going to have a finger cut off so I can watch you scream, I’m going to fuck your pretty face, then I’m taking you with me.”

  What they’d made me do to her had been insane but this chilled me. I could take men dying horribly but not this.

  She panted loud enough for me to hear and shook her head crazily, before spitting near his feet. “Why?”

  Bloody hell. I smiled even as I dreaded his response. She was fokken angry.

  “You’ll understand eventually. I’ll make sure of it. For that, I may take two fingers. If you think you can bite me, think again. Gregor!” He gestured.

  Gregor rose with some device in his hand. A spider gag. I thought I recognized it. The metal spokes would open her mouth widely and keep it open.

  I never said please, never begged, with men like this. I fucked them over and killed them.

  They pushed the gag into her mouth, despite her screams and violent attempts to evade them, and strapped it on.

  I couldn’t take this. As a guard came forward with a pair of bolt cutters, I growled, surprising even myself at the animalistic sound. Gregor brought over a small solid stool, undid her cuffs, and wrenched one of her hands over, pinning it flat.

  “Wait!” I lunged forward, jerking as my collar chain snapped taut. “Please. Let it be me. Take my finger.”

  “Really?” The client angled his head, assessing me. “You’re that enamored of her? I was going to have you fuck her ass while I fucked her mouth, but I like this idea. Of course, if you can’t get it up, I’ll have you shot after.”

  This man was Gregor’s equal. I stared at him. If it wasn’t me, he’d get a guard to ass fuck her. “Do it.”

  Though she couldn’t speak, Jazmine pleaded with me with her eyes and made whining sounds. I figured she was saying no. I ignored her.

  He nodded. “Take the stool over there. I’m not having him near me with his hands free.”

  Now this had possibilities. The bolt cutters were big, mean looking, and heavy. A lethal thing if you hit someone with it. I could kill with it. But eight, no ten men? If I killed Gregor and him, would the others scatter? They’d get me, but maybe I could free Jazmine and she could run? So dangerous a situation, so iffy, but it might be her last chance at freedom.

  Never ever give in.

  Only Gregor had ideas too. They hauled over the stool, strapped one arm to my body, thoroughly, and forced me to my knees. There were guns on me. No one gave me an inch. They strapped my knees together, before freeing my other hand with a chain attached. Then they chained it down to the stool. I had nowhere to go.

  Fok them.

  I was going to lose a finger, at least.

  A guard wearing a baseball cap came forward and took the bolt cutters. “Which one?”

  “The little finger.” The client unzipped and took out his cock, began to roll on a condom.

  Grinning at me, the guard anchored down the stool with his boot on the rung underneath the seat, and fitted the blades over and under my finger. “Say cheese.”r />
  Then he closed it with a crunch.

  The pain was immense, burning my hand, burning up my arm, exploding in my head. I screamed once then tensed up, shuddering.

  Blood squirted from the stump. Least he’d missed the one next to it, my logical mind informed me.

  I bowed my head and muttered curses. My finger lay in the mud inches away, blood staining the ground. More blood dripped from the edge of the stool. Grunting in air like I’d run a race, or had a digit bloody well severed, I raised myself up. They wouldn’t see me grovel.

  The client had his cock an inch away from Jazmine’s mouth with Gregor holding her head in place. He studied me. “Take another finger. The one next to it.”

  “Sure. Man, you’re fucked.” The guard wriggled the blades through the blood and under my next digit.

  I stared at my hand, said a goodbye to my finger, and had a mental block. Why was I doing this again?

  Because of her. I looked at Jazmine, waiting there, gasping and wriggling to avoid the cock he was presenting to her mouth, waiting to be defiled yet again. If I could’ve killed them all with my eyes, it was done, then, in that very second.

  When it was me hurting her, it was better, because I cared for her. My sight blurred and I blinked to clear it. I could have wept but not for me. For her. I’d give a whole hand to have her for my own.

  I met the guard’s eyes, took in that stupid grin. “Fok jou.”

  “You too.” His chuckle ended in blood as his head ruptured. Pieces of flesh splattered into the air and pattered like rain onto my face.

  What the fok?

  It took me all of three seconds to figure it out, with the rapid thwap of rounds coming in. Some harder, with more boom. These were sniper rounds. An attack.

  I ducked, spent all of a millionth of a second on the asshole next to me twitching and bleeding out through a hole in his brain.

  Were these good guys or bad? They couldn’t be worse than Gregor?

  Bullets cracked through the air. Strapped in place, though trying to keep my head low, I watched the guards spin and fall. The Client was down. Gregor sprinted toward the nearest covered way. He tripped, tumbled, and slid, with blood spray decorating his vicinity, like a ragdoll through the slush. When his body stopped sliding, he moved not at all.