by J. L. Beck
“I know what you’re good for,” he whispers so softly I barely hear him. It’s the whisper of a beloved, a lover, the devil.
Lightning fast, he lifts me over the edge of his desk, my belly on top of his ledger, my hips pressing painfully against the solid edge. I gasp at the quick movement, and the sound of my thundering heartbeat in my ears drowns out everything around me for a moment. Not wanting to antagonize him further, I remain still. I don’t wiggle, and I barely even breathe.
“You’re learning, Celia.” My name rolls off his tongue like a curse. “Put your hands out and grip the other side of the desk.”
Knowing to fight him is futile, I slide my hands up and curl my fingers against the solid wood edge of the desk. Fear uncoils in my chest, and I quake, waiting for what he might do to me this time. All his threats of raping me, is now the time? Did he reach his limit?
Tears build in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall, quickly blinking them away. My breath comes out through my nose in shallow pants. I can get through this. Whatever happens, I can get through this. This monster of a man will not be my demise.
He can have my body, but not my mind.
I feel his fingers beneath the shirt, long, thick fingers that slip into the waistband of my underwear. With little effort, he drags my panties down my legs and jerks them off my feet. I remain locked in place, afraid to even twitch and incite his wrath.
The scrape of metal against metal tells me he’s unbuckling his belt. My shivering increases until my teeth are chattering.
When his fingers sink deep into my hips, I lie my cheek flat against the wood and try to stop the sob from ripping from my throat.
What else can I do?
To my utter shock, he gently presses his hard cock along the seam of my ass, sliding upward so the crown butts against my crack.
Ever so gently, he surges forward. He’s not entering me or parting my legs at all, but that doesn’t mean he won’t. The threat remains, fear rising higher as he uses my body how he sees fit.
I can feel the heat of his thighs against my own and the fabric of his dress slacks against my calves. The hardness of his body is suffocating, making it difficult to suck in enough air. No matter how many times I breathe in, I feel like I’m not getting the oxygen I need.
After a moment, he angles himself differently, downward between my clenched thighs, right where my pussy is. Like a bow, my entire body anticipates what’s coming, my muscles tighten, and my chest aches only to realize a second later, he isn’t entering me, just sliding between the natural curves of my body. The head of his hard cock nudges my clit, and I bite my lip to hold back a whimper. When he does it again, a quiet sob escapes my lips.
“What was that, stellina? Something to say?” He tsks, his voice husky.
When I don’t make another sound, he places his right palm on my bare back, right above my ass, adding another anchor to our bodies. His touch is soft, warm, a caress if I could have ever expected him to be capable of such a thing.
“While you are staying here, your body belongs to me, every inch, every hole. When you are not busy scrubbing the floor, I get to use all of you, any way I see fit.”
His words are cruel, and his touch is confusing, making this whole situation worse. I feel helpless and violated. I try to shut my mind off, to go somewhere else, but I can’t get away. He is too overwhelming, too close, just… too much.
I inhale deeply when he surges forward again and again. My body loosens the tiniest bit with every drag of him against me, hoping this is all he is going to do to me.
Once he finds his rhythm, his enormous hands lock around my hips, gently lifting me off the desk. I sigh with relief. He seems content with this, not forcing me open or pushing for more.
This is okay. I can handle it.
Condensation spreads out in a fan from my lips where my breathing has taken a mind of its own. I can only focus on keeping my hands and teeth clenched and my eyes closed.
He increases his pace, squeezing the outside of my ass to force my thighs closer, my body hugging him tighter. My heart races, and I have to force myself deep inside my head to think of anything but this.
With a grunt, he stills, his heavy breathing fanning out against the back of my neck. Wet liquid pours down my inner thighs. I’m still quaking as he lowers my feet to the floor and finally releases his hold on me.
He steps away, cleans himself off with a handkerchief, and then pulls his pants up. His demeanor is impassive, like nothing happened at all. While I remain flayed out across his desk, much like a prized bear on the floor.
“Go get cleaned up and dressed. Sarah left some things for you. I have things to prepare for the auction.”
His dismissive words are a slap to the face. Actually, I would rather get slapped in the face than treated like this. The sting of a hit will fade, but this dreadful feeling in my chest will stay with me long after the mark disappears.
I peel myself off his desk, refusing to look down at his cum, which I feel trickling down the inside of my thighs. I’ve been used in the worst possible way. I’m unable to meet his eyes, so I stare at the floor, waiting for it to swallow me whole. The last thing I want is for him to see exactly how much what he did affected me.
I don’t look up until I hear his retreating footsteps down the hall. It’s then that I raise my head. I’m shocked when I see Sarah standing in the hall, an impatient look in her eyes. Oh my god, did she see us? Even if she didn’t see the act, she sees me now, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.
Another wave of shame overcomes me. Logically, I know I have nothing to be ashamed of. I didn’t want this. He forced me. Still, I’m the one feeling ashamed.
She leads me to my room without a word. Once inside, I lock the door and rush into the bathroom and strip off my clothing. I turn the water all the way to hot, letting it burn away the shame. I grab the washrag and scrub at my legs. I scrub and scrub until the skin is an angry red.
All I can think is that I have to remove his mark from my body because I already know I can’t remove the one he left in my soul.
8
Nic
Soo enters my office sometime later, a phone outstretched toward me.
I glare at it and then him, so he gets how fucking much I don’t want to deal with whatever mess is on the other end of that line. “If that’s not ten million dollars or the best piece of ass in the entire city, get it out of my face.”
The man simply stares at me down the line of his arm. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even react. He merely stares, pissing me off even more with his silent glare.
Finally, I snatch it with a grumbled, “Fuck you.”
“What?” I let the annoyance leak into my tone as I bring the cell to my ear.
I’d place the name to the voice any day. Not that I didn’t expect him to call, eventually. Marco-fucking-Gardello says, “We need to meet.”
I sit back in my chair and breathe to keep from crushing Soo’s phone. As cathartic as it might be for me, he’d get pissy about it. “First, you don’t make demands of me. Ever. You’re the one so far in debt to me that when I finish taking it out of your ass, there won’t even be a piece of you left for police to identify you.”
His panicked inhale cuts through the line. Good. Maybe he’ll show a little more respect. “It’s about the girl.”
The girl whose pussy I can still smell all over me. Instead of mentioning that, I decide to play dumb and ask, “What girl?”
“Diavolo, don’t blame dumb. You know what girl I’m talking about. My fucking fiancée,” he whispers harshly.
I can’t help but smile. Yes, I’m fucked up, but knowing how up in arms he is over his fiancée, one would think if he really cared about her, he wouldn’t have gambled with her life the way he did.
“You mean the girl that barely even makes a dent in the balance you owe? That girl?” I pause and wait for him to say something, but he must have at least one working brain cell be
cause he doesn’t respond. “What, did you think one little woman would wipe away years of bad choices?”
“No, but I didn’t consider how much of a fuss her family would make with her gone. Nor did I know the extent of how much money I had to lose when we didn’t actually get married.”
The loose grip I hold on my anger slackens. He wants to meet to discuss the girl, then we will meet. Not saying he’ll leave the same way he came, but that’s not my problem.
“Fine, you want to meet, let’s meet. Parking garage on Seventh. Bring some money, so it’s not a wasted trip on my part, or say no now, and I’ll send Soo out instead to have a little chat.”
Panicked, he responds, “Yes, of course. I’ll be there.”
I hang up and hand the phone back to Soo, who is hovering near the edge of my desk. “Let’s go talk to this fucker.”
As I stand, I roll the sleeves down on my dress shirt and button the cuffs. I leave my jacket as there’s no doubt in my mind I’ll be beating the shit out of this idiot before the meeting ends.
When I pass the door leading to Celia’s room, I pause. I turn, grab the doorknob, and check that it’s locked before continuing down to the car.
Soo must have texted one of the guys, because the black SUV we usually drive sits idling in front of the house. I skirt to the passenger side while Soo climbs behind the wheel.
His fingers loosen and tighten on the steering wheel as he pulls out onto the main drive, then to the street. I’ve known Soo for the better part of my life. He was there for me when I had nothing. He’s not just my second in command, he’s like a brother to me. Knowing him as long as I have means I know when something is bothering him. However, he’s a grown man, and if he doesn’t want to tell me what is worrying him, I won’t bother pushing.
It isn’t until we get closer to the meeting point that he finally opens his mouth. “I don’t like this.”
“I assumed, considering how you’re wearing the leather out on the wheel there.”
He grunts and settles into his seat. Relaxing is not his strong suit, and he only ever does it around me. “I don’t trust that kid one inch. What kind of man sells his fiancée?” He doesn’t have to explain further. Soo is a vicious man but prides himself on having an ample amount of honor. He would die a million deaths before dishonoring his loyalty.
He would never betray his people. Lucky for me, at the moment, I’m the only family he has.
I reach into the glove box and remove my Desert Eagle. As expected, it’s clean and loaded. “Are we playing the morality police now? Especially when that fiancée is about to make us a lot of money?”
Another grunt, and I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t agree with me or if he wants to keep from arguing about it further. There’s no way he’s growing soft. The mere thought makes me want to laugh. We’ve both done far worse than sell women at private auctions.
“I’ve got some of our guys on standby. If he makes a move, I’ll put a bullet in his brain.”
We arrive at almost the same time. Gardello slides his shiny sports car in between two slots like the complete douche he is. Soo doesn’t bother turning ours off. I scan Marco from head to toe as he approaches. Slicked back hair, perfectly tailored suit. There are no visible weapons on him. He carries a bag which he tosses at Soo’s feet once he’s closer.
“There. I brought some money.”
I wave my arms out in front of us. “Let’s talk. What do you want?”
He charges forward and halts abruptly at Soo’s menacing step forward to meet him. “I want my fiancée back.”
Of course, he does. I glance at Soo with a little grin, then step forward to meet Marco. Even if he were carrying, he wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to get a shot off.
Marco swallows so loudly I can hear it. “How much do you want for her?”
Wow. I guess he has some balls, after all. I step away from him and slip my hands into my pockets. To anyone else, I might appear to be considering his offer. Only Soo and my men would know it’s keeping me from wrapping my fingers around the fucker’s throat, until he can’t breathe. Until I squeeze his worthless life from its worthless shell.
I stare him down unflinchingly. “You, who owe me millions already, want to pay me to take back the woman you gave me as payment? Is that correct? Because that sounds like the only person making out good on that deal is you.”
Marco drags his eyes from me to Soo and back again. No doubt, just now realizing he won’t be able to charm his way out of this garage, and certainly not with his requests fulfilled.
As expected, he gives us both a lazy smile. “Guys, listen. If I don’t marry her, my parents are going to pawn me off on this other woman who is a fucking cow. I wouldn’t even be able to take her out in public. Know what I mean?”
Soo shrugs and glances at me. “I don’t know what he is talking about. I like girls with a little meat. Something juicy to grab onto.”
It’s all a game, an act to put Marco at ease before one or both of us strikes.
Marco steps closer, thinking he’s finally breaking through. I, however, am imagining how his brains will look splattered all over the concrete. “She’s cute enough, don’t get me wrong, she’s just not my type.”
The smile slips for a second, but then returns. “What can I offer you?” Marco asks, his good ol’ boy smile back on his face. “There has to be something you want. Another son or daughter of the five families? I know them all. Hell, grandkids, aunts, uncles. Everyone trusts me. I can bring you anyone you want. Tell me what or who you want, and I’ll get it for you.”
Seconds drag on, and when I don’t answer, Marcos’ lips thin out, his patience no doubt worn. What did he think? I’d show up here and roll over for him? The impunity alone means he’s getting shot before I walk away. He just hasn’t realized it yet.
“I already have what I want.” I shrug. “I’m not sorry to say, Celia is off the market. She won’t be any good to you anyway. But you should know, the little sounds she made when I slid into her were heavenly. She whimpered and screamed my name over and over again until I made her come.”
His face contorts and flushes red. Even his ears are tinged with his anger. “You… you… fucked her?”
I can’t bite back the smile that pulls at my lips. “What did you think I was going to do with her, stuff her, and put her over my mantle?”
Soo nudges my chest with the back of his hand. “You stuffed her, all right.”
We share a chuckle between us and then focus our attention back on Marco. His fists are curled tight at his side, and I give him about three more seconds before he pops and says something I can truly pummel him for. Not that I need a reason. It just makes sending body parts home in a bag a little more explainable.
“You still want her?” I ask, all mirth stripped from my voice now. “Say I do entertain this stupid idea of yours, what happens if I’m not done with her?”
“Done with her?” he whispers. As if only now considering the dark and depraved acts a man like me might inflict on a woman.
“How about if she’s filled up with cum and has been passed around by my men? Would you still want her back then? Would you even be able to look her in the eyes when you stand at that altar and promise to protect her?” I lean in until I can whisper into Marco’s ear, “Because, me, I don’t think you’d have the balls. Especially if I let it slip how she got into my hands in the first place.”
Soo chimes in, “How are you going to sell that to her, I wonder? Or better, how are you going to sell that to her parents?”
He swallows and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I thought you were joking. I guess you really did it…” he trails off, mulling over what he is going to do next. “What the fuck good is she now that she’s ridden who knows how many dicks? No, I don’t want that little slut. Keep her and good riddance. I’ll figure out a solution to my problem another way.” He shakes his head, and his eyes lift to mine. The anger in them radiates outward. “You know I fucked
her first.”
I might have believed him had I not felt the awe and surprise in her body when I slid between her thighs earlier. And it wasn’t just because she expected me to do more to her. She’d been so close to her own orgasm, I could have nudged her over with the tiniest pressure. Not to mention how tight her little body squeezed my fingers when I tested her myself.
No, Marco wishes he had her, but the dumb fuck hasn’t touched her. If I’m right, which I am, I bet he hasn’t even copped a feel.
I shrug. “She said she was a virgin. I’m inclined to believe the lady.”
“Lady?” Marco spits, his anger barely controlled now. “That whore is lying. She’s been all over my cock since the first night we met. I’ve been in every hole she’s got. Plus, a couple of my boys wanted a little taste too. So, if you think you can sell her for a hefty price tag, I’ll make sure everyone knows she’s nothing but a whore.”
Strangely, he’s struck a nerve. A nerve I didn’t even know existed. I step forward, the distance between us almost eliminated. This fucker has no idea how close he is to death. “The whore you were going to marry? What, today, wasn’t it?”
Marco narrows his eyes.
I’m so close to him, I can see the red veins cutting through the dingy white of his eyeballs. Not only does the man have no self-preservation instincts, but he’s also shown up drunk or high, or both.
“If I have to marry someone, it might as well be someone I can at least touch. And I wanted to make sure she’d be open to some of my tastes after we married.”
“Like your taste for poverty?” Soo interjects.
I snort and continue my stare down with Marco.
“Oh,” I tell Soo. “No, it’s the money Celia would have brought him when they married. Her trust fund. That’s what Gardello is missing, not her pretty little pussy.”
Soo inclines his head in response.
The chill in the garage is turning my fingers to ice. I push the cold to the back of my mind. I won’t show weakness in front of this dipshit. Not while he’s digging his own grave, and so sweetly. The scent of liquor wafting off Marco is finally reaching me. I’m ready to go home.
