by Ally Vance
“We're going to lock you away and do unspeakable things to your body. You won't be able to stop us. You're so sexy when you fight back…just like the other night when I had you up against that wall and at my mercy. Tracking you down, and taking what I wanted for myself had me so fucking hard,” Quinlan growls, using his body to pin her against the door she was so desperately trying to escape through.
When he turns to look at me, his usually pale eyes are dark with hunger, and my hand itches to grab him by the throat. I frown at the implication of his words. I have no idea what he’s talking about, and I make a mental note to interrogate him later. If he’s acted without informing me and taken liberties with her, I’ll make sure he suffers as a consequence.
“Let her go,” I order, and I'm pleased to see him obey. He backs away from us and watches silently.
Esme looks at me as though I'm her saviour. Relief is written all over her face as I slowly rake my eyes over her dishevelled state. Her top is twisted in disarray, offering tantalisingly tempting peeks at her skin beneath, and her cheeks are flushed with fear. Regardless of what Quinlan was doing to her, I’m sure she enjoyed my hands and mouth on her. But I'm not the hero in her story, and I look forward to shattering that tiny ray of hope.
I stand there staring intensely at Esme, taking in her appearance, and I see her expression gradually change from relief to fear as my bad intentions are revealed. When I start to prowl towards her, she lets loose a terrified scream and tries to run, but I'm too fast. I cage her in before she can take more than a single step away from me.
“I'm not your saviour, sweetheart. I'd raise hell just to make you mine,” I tell her, relishing the way her breath catches, and her gorgeous, emerald eyes are locked on mine, fear swirling in their depths.
This beautiful temptress has lured us both in, and neither of us have good intentions. We’re two predators closing in on our prey, but only one of us will get to feast on the delicious flesh of the woman now standing in front of us.
It’s going to be me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Quinlan
I didn’t expect my uncle to be so committed. He wants her more than I thought, which could cause this to go one of two ways, and either I’ll benefit or be double-crossed. It doesn’t really matter, though. I’ll come out on top in the end, and Esme will be with me if she can’t be with the both of us. She fears Frollo too much to ever fully submit to him. She doesn’t want to want me and denies the attraction she feels, but I saw how she reacted to my compliments and felt how she responded to my touch. There’s a spark there I’m more than eager to help fan into a passionate inferno.
I move to stand directly behind Frollo, and placing a hand on his shoulder, I whisper in his ear, “Uncle Frollo, how old is this building?”
Until I spoke, Esme’s terrified eyes had been flickering back and forth between mine and my uncle’s, but now they lock solely with mine.
“As old as the town, at least. Why?” he replies, inclining his head to look at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Is there a cellar, or crypt, or somewhere we can hide her?” I ask, smirking at Esme, who whimpers and resumes her struggles against him.
Distracted, my uncle turns back to face her, moving forward and crushing her to the door with his body. “Don’t think for one minute you’ll be escaping from us.”
“Let me go! You can’t just lock me away! Someone will notice I’m missing!” she shrieks, her terrified voice rising several octaves and echoing around us.
“Who’ll notice you’re missing, Esme?” I snort, and she blanches at the rhetorical question. “You said it yourself; you’re an outsider who doesn’t fit in. Who in this town will care?”
I ignore the prickle of guilt that niggles at my conscience for enjoying seeing her flinch at my last words. I shouldn’t be revelling in her fear as much as I do, but it’s clear to me I’m not the only one here who’s feeling that way.
“Uncle?” I prompt.
“Yes, there is,” he says slowly as he manacles Esme’s wrists with his hands, and then stepping backwards, drags her away from the door.
“Stop. Fucking, stop! Why are you doing this? Quinlan?” she pleads angrily, growling as she desperately tries to free herself. Frollo hesitates, and sensing this, she refocuses her attention on him. “Pastor, you can’t do this. It isn’t right. Please. I won’t tell anyone. Who’d believe me anyway?”
Silently, I watch him carefully to gauge his response. My heart pounds heavily in my chest while we wait for him to decide her fate. His eyes flare for an instant with remorse before the look is extinguished, and his expression darkens. I smile broadly, and Esme wails when he proceeds to haul her down the central aisle. She kicks out as they move past me, and I catch hold of her legs. Lifting her off her feet with my hands gripping her calves, I help Frollo carry our lovely captive through the church.
My uncle’s plan becomes clear when we draw closer to a door behind the altar. I remember that it leads to the clock tower, and as if it approves of our scheme, the church timepiece contained within tolls the hour. A melodic tune rings out followed by a slow dong-dong-dong-dong-dong of the bell.
“Why are you doing this?” Esme screams, thrashing about as much as she can.
I tighten my hold until my fingers are pinching her bare legs. She winces and sends a death-stare my way. In response I lift her legs to my waist height, exposing inches of delicious skin when her skirt slides up her thighs. Her cheeks redden when she realises that if I were to shift her ever so slightly, I’d have the perfect view all the way up to her underwear, which hides what I most want to see.
“Try me, Esme. I’ll expose your pussy to us. Behave yourself or you’ll spend the next hour on your knees on these cold flagstones while I turn your arse the same colour as your face is now,” I threaten.
“Come quietly, or come screaming. It’s your choice,” Frollo interjects, surprising me with the darkness in his words as he lowers her to the floor while he fumbles with the key to unlock the door.
I don’t put her down, and she squeals when her skirt travels farther up her thighs, revealing her underwear. I’m tempted to take advantage of her vulnerability right now; it’s not like she could escape. My cock is achingly hard, and I move in closer between her thighs until her legs are wrapped around my waist and I’m pressed up against her panty-clad pussy. I grind against her as a warning, then bite back the groan elicited from the friction between her and my dick.
Forgetting the predicament of her skirt, Esme scrabbles to twist away from me, but she fails to find purchase with her hands on the smooth stone slabs paving the floor of the church.
“Really, Quinlan?” Uncle Frollo scolds, raising an eyebrow at me when he turns back to see the compromising position I have Esme in.
“You’re just jealous,” I tease.
I’m filled with satisfaction at the accuracy of my statement when his eyes darken with desire as they travel along the length of her body, pausing at where our pelvises are currently aligned.
“It’s not like I won’t get my chance to be right where you are now.” He shrugs with amusement flooding his tone. Then grabbing her wrists, he lifts her again.
Between the two of us we manage to successfully carry her through the door and along the short stone corridor to the room at the bottom of the clock tower.
“I’ll go mad and deaf if you leave me in here!” she cries as my uncle unlocks and unbolts the door, and we carry her into the room.
“It’s not as loud as you might think in here. Your hearing won’t suffer,” I assure her, slowly lowering her to the floor before running my hands down her legs.
Esme heaves a sigh of relief when my hands leave her skin and I back away from her. Frollo also releases his hold, and she slumps down, watching and waiting to see what we’ll do next. I glance at him, and we share a silent look. He nods at me, and we hasten to leave the room before she can stand up.
“Wait!” she screams, hurriedly ge
tting to her feet and hurtling after us.
Just as she begins to pound on the heavy wooden door, Frollo slams it shut and shoots the bolt home.
“You can’t leave me here!” she protests, angrily banging her fists in a useless attempt to get through. Her yells and pleas are muffled by the solid wood separating us.
“We’ll be back in a little while,” Frollo informs her, raising his voice so he can be heard over the cacophony she's creating.
“You know we can’t keep her here indefinitely,” I point out.“We’ll have to find somewhere better unless she promises to cooperate with us.”
“Yes, I know,” he snaps, storming ahead of me while I saunter back down the corridor and out into the main body of the church.
It’s time to plan our next move.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Esme
I’ve been locked away in a damn clock tower by a crazy pastor and his stalker nephew. How I’m going to get out of this hell, I've no idea. Sinister thoughts prickle at my consciousness, and although I do my best to ignore them, my captors’ threats to take me for themselves frighten me even more than my newfound captivity.
I don’t have long to formulate an escape plan; they said they’d be returning soon. The only thing I can come up with is to barge past them when they open the door next. I try to ignore the little voice telling me they won’t be coming back, and they’re going to leave me here to starve.
I've barely had time to gather my thoughts before I hear the bolt sliding across and the key being turned in the lock. Shit! They were quicker than I expected. I scramble to get to my feet and prepare to flee. Quinlan enters first, followed closely by Pastor Frollo. I take a quick gulp of air, and hurtling across the room, I shove between them in my bid for freedom. Caught by surprise, Quinlan stumbles and falls, crashing into the door. The pastor shouts out as he lunges for me, and his fingers snag my arm.
“No!” I scream in frustration when he pulls me back, circling me with his arms and pinning both of mine against my body.
I kick out behind me, eliciting a grunt from him when my boot connects with his shin, but he doesn’t falter, and his grip around me tightens.
“Oh, I don’t think so, Esme. You’re not going anywhere,” he seethes while forcing me back into the room.
Quinlan has righted himself and is now back on his feet, glaring at me with his fists clenched at his sides. When the pastor kicks the door shut behind him, sealing us all in the room, the angry expression twists into a knowing smirk. My blood runs cold with terror, and I struggle harder to break free of the arms wrapped tight around my body.
At this moment, I’m not sure which one I’m more afraid of…Frollo or Quinlan? I can’t think of Frollo as anything more than a villain right now. He’s a holy man who’s strayed far from his righteous path. Both of them are experts at masking the devious souls lurking within them. I’ve no idea what they're capable of, but I have a terrible feeling I’m about to find out.
“Thought you could escape us, did you?” Quinlan scoffs, moving closer to us.
“Yes,” I reply with defiance, sounding stronger than I actually feel right now. Inside I’m shaking, and I’m almost certain Frollo can feel it.
Frollo presses his face into my hair, and I hear him inhale deeply before he chuckles into my ear and says, “I can feel you quivering. Are you frightened, Esme? Scared of what the big bad wolf is going to do to your sweet body? I’m going to eat you up and make you forget everything but my name while you scream and beg for mercy from the pleasure I’m going to force on you. I can’t wait to taste your skin and your lips once again.”
I turn my head away from him and close my eyes, hoping to block out his words, but I feel them, deep down in my soul. I know now I’m not going to get out of here unscathed and untouched. I can only hope I survive long enough to escape or maybe divert their focus away from me and onto each other by creating some friction between them.
Faced with two iniquitous men intent on being my ruin, what hope do I have? My heart is pounding a tattoo against my ribcage, and my breaths are sharp and shallow.
“Yes, I’m scared,” I whisper softly, as a tear tracks its way down my cheek.
“I can’t deny you look beautiful when you cry, but I don’t want your fear,” Frollo murmurs, brushing his lips over the tear.
Fingers gently grasp my chin and turn my head so I’m facing forward again, and when I open my eyes, I see Quinlan standing directly in front of us. His eyes are nearly black with lust; I can see myself reflected in the glasses that cover them, and he sears my skin with his elusive soft caress.
“Hold her still,” Quinlan directs his uncle, who bristles at the command.
Maybe turning them against each other won’t be as hard as I thought. The pastor adjusts his position, twisting us away from Quinlan, and as our bodies move, I catch a glimpse of his scowl.
“I've wanted her since the moment I met her, and I’ll be the first to own her sweet body,” Frollo snaps, shoving Quinlan away, and I let out a small whimper.
I’m not safe with either of these men, but the wild and dark vibes currently emanating from Quinlan are particularly frightening. He’s unpredictable and so much more disarming than his uncle; it’s a dangerous combination. I haven’t fallen completely for his charms, but I’m not as unsusceptible to them as I thought.
“Please, don’t touch me,” I plead, attempting to deadweight in Frollo’s arms.
He doesn’t allow me to drop, though. His arms remain wrapped around me, keeping me upright.
“I don’t have the strength to stay away from you, Esme. And I’ll be honest with you, I no longer want to. I’ve been tested and found lacking, but I can’t bring myself to care in the least. My failure’s led us here, and now I have you, trapped, vulnerable, and about to be mine,” he says, before turning to his nephew and growling harshly, “Leave us and lock the door on the way out.”
With a deadly glare, Quinlan leaves without a word, slamming the door heavily behind him and securing the door from the outside.
“I tried to stay away and be a good man, but you could bring even the strongest of men to his knees. I’m not going to fight this, I’m going to take you for my own and there's nothing and no one who can stop me. Not you, not Quinlan, and not even my faith.”
I wriggle in his grip, but I’m no match for him as he wraps one of his arms more firmly around me, bringing my body flush against his. His arousal is evident, and he grinds his erection against my arse while he runs one of his hands over the front of my t-shirt, dipping his fingers through the slits in the material and softly brushing my skin on his journey down my body.
He explores my curves, his hand roaming over the swells of my breasts and venturing under my top to lightly pinch at each of my nipples, which harden at his touch. Fingertips tease at the little peaks, and I can’t hold back the soft moan or stop the traitorous rush of arousal flooding my body. What’s happening to me?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Frollo
I finally have Esme in my arms again, and this time she can’t run from me. I heard her response to my touch, and I’m elated to have garnered such a sweet sound from her without Quinlan’s presence or interference. He’s sure to be listening on the other side of the door, though, and I’m sickened by the thought that he’ll also want to stake his claim, just like I’m about to.
I pull my hand free from Esme’s top, and lowering it farther down her body, I slide it beneath the waistband of her skirt without hesitation and delve straight into her underwear. She whimpers and quivers, trying to close her legs, but I've already felt what she's attempting to hide from me.
“Have I made you wet?” I gloat, rubbing my swollen cock against her backside, seeking friction through our clothing.
“N-no,” she replies, her voice high and breathy.
I swirl my fingers through the arousal coating her pussy and sink two fingers inside her. Esme whimpers, and I let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t lie to me
, sweetheart. Your juices are coating my fingers, and very soon, they’ll be all over my cock. You’re going to be mine, and it’s well past time I staked my claim.”
I remove my hand and push her down onto her knees, so she's facing away from me. As I lift her skirt, she tries to crawl away, but my other arm is still keeping her in place.
“You’re trying to fight me because you’re afraid to admit you want me too. But your body doesn’t lie and neither did your mouth when you kissed me back. Admit it, and I’ll make this easy for you. Continue to fight me, and I’ll force the words from your lips after I've had them wrapped around my dick. I’ll choke the truth out of you. So which is it going to be?” I demand, and while part of me hopes she’ll give in, the bigger part of me wants her to fight.
“Fuck you,” she spits, kicking out at me but missing.
“Uh-uh. Well, just remember you brought this on yourself,” I hiss, and pushing her down, so she’s on all fours, I kneel behind her and use my knees to pin her legs in place.
I land a sharp spank on her arse, earning a squeal of pain and more fruitless wriggling from her. I drag her underwear down to the crook of her knees and use my free hand to caress the soft skin which is now exposed, taking a moment to admire the pink handprint blooming on the curved cheek. Fumbling one-handed, I undo my jeans and free my aching cock from the confines of my clothing where it stands proud and ready to sink into Esme’s glistening pussy.
I continue to tease the hole I’m about to stretch, fill, and claim with my fingers, spreading the juices over the lips of her pussy before moving lower and applying pressure to her clit. She fails to stifle her moans when I start to alternate between rhythmically rubbing her clit and plunging my fingers deep inside her. Esme’s breathing becomes more laboured. She’s panting and weak beneath me. I stop when I sense she's close to coming and savour the distressed wail that bursts from her lips.
