Distilled Duplicity

by Louise Furley

  He growled with a stinging smack, “You want me to lift that skirt and yank those panties down and wail on your naked behind for all the world to see? Just test me, lamb,” he hissed, “just test me.”

  He was crude and menacing, Kiri believed he would carry out his threat, she forced herself to hang limply over his shoulder.

  When they reached his vehicle, she could hear more male chuckling and realized his friends were there waiting for him. They spoke in their own language, she couldn’t understand what they were saying. But judging by the tone of their laugher it was ribald. Of course, he had forced her onto his lap, and she was now hanging over his caveman’s shoulder like fresh kill, a chauvinist joke to him and his barbaric friends. Kiri cringed with mortification.

  She heard a car door open, and Naithon let her slide to her feet. Breathless, she pushed at him and turned to run. “Uh huh,” he remonstrated. The door was open on the right back passenger side. Grabbing her arms, he forced her into the limo.

  As he climbed in after her, she caught a glimpse of his friends grinning foolishly at them. Naithon gave her a shove to move over for him. When she did and he slid inside, a man in a black uniform shut the door. She felt the limo rock as he climbed in front, the driver’s car door slammed shut and the engine roared to life.

  At least the other males weren’t coming with them. Imagining gang rape about froze her mind with horror. Kiri didn’t dare look at Naithon. He terrified her. Huge and aggressively strong, foreign and relentlessly angry. Her brothers had told her how ruthless, how bone chillingly vicious he was. Even while in the wheelchair he killed men by either breaking their necks, or garroting them with one hand.

  Her gaze lowered to his hands, her stomach clinched. He had huge hands. Everything on him was big, including his manhood that he had shoved at her like a rutting beast when he’d had her pinned to the ground. Fearful of what he was going to do to her next, she quickly looked away and tucked herself as tightly into the corner as she could, facing the side window.

  When they had travelled in silence for some time, she dared a peek at him. He had a computer on his lap, the keys clicked away under his broad fingers. He was calmly working while she sat there in abject terror. What a hideous beast.

  He’d taken her as a mean joke, to provoke her father and now he could care less about her. But, she would take that as a blessing. Surely he’d let her go soon.

  An hour passed and Kiri was strung taut with nerves. Finally she took the chance and asked in a small voice, “Why have you taken me? What do you plan to do to me?” She watched his fingers pause.

  Then, he powered the computer down, closed the lid with a click and set it on the floor, and turned to her. Maybe he was just going to keep her locked in a room for a couple of days to make his point of superiority to her father then send her home.

  Odd onyx eyes gleamed at her under those perpetually hooded lids. She felt like the duck swimming by the gator. He didn’t move, but his weird demon’s eyes trailed all over her as if she was nude. She felt her skin tingle with fright, her pulse raced. She curled into the corner of the left side of the limo seat from him as far away as she could get. He was clear at the opposite end of the long bench seat.

  His voice cool, low, he asked in a quiet, coarse accent, “You want to know what I want to do to you?”

  Kiri held her breath, no, she didn’t want to know. Green eyes wide, mouth firmed with fright, she shook her head.

  “Ah.” His smile more profane than pleasant. “But you asked. So I will tell you. No,” the smile turned licentious, “I will show you. I want this,” he lunged across the seat at her.

  “No!” she shrieked and held her hands up to stop him. As he came at her, she grabbed for the door handle and frantically tried to jerk it up, open it, she was going to jump out. It was locked. She wrenched at the secured lock but couldn’t engage it.

  “You stupid girl,” Naithon snarled from halfway across the long seat. “The car is going at least 60 miles an hour, you would never survive the fall. What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “It would be better than being here with you!” Kiri shrieked as he stalked to her, she thrust her hands out to stop him.

  His body leaning into hers, Naithon brushed her hands aside and clamped his palms under her ribs. He lowered his head; his gaze dropped to the plush lips then rose back up to her frightened greens.

  He growled, gaze flickering up and down her body, over her face. “I did not come today for the truce talk, little lamb,” he said, “I came for you.” His fingers were hard, like steel, he gripped her waist then shoved his hands up and grabbed her breasts.

  Pressed hard into the corner, Kiri screamed and hit his arms, pushed at him. He groped her breasts, kneading them hard, roughly over her blouse, she whimpered at his ferocity.

  He muttered thickly, “Wanted this, all of it, since that day at the fucking banquet. You were too young then, still a child, and then Ignacio spirited you away. But I couldn’t get those green eyes out of my damned mind. Over the years every fucking time I saw you I couldn’t get near you, you ran from me.”

  Her struggles were in vain, he was too strong, too big. His lips a breath from her mouth, he murmured, “And here you are, all grown up. And exquisitely perfect. I want to possess every damned part of you, outside...and in.” His left hand released a breast and he moved it up, shoving his fingers into the back of her hair. He moved his other hand to grip her chin.

  He yanked on her hair, forcing her head back, her mouth opened in protest, and he slapped his mouth over it. His kiss was forceful, brutal, just like him. He slanted his head and ate at her with a raging fever of hunger and desire. The rumbling sounds deep in his chest, an animal devouring its catch.

  Kiri screamed into his mouth. Why wasn’t the chauffer helping her? Of course the little door between the front and the back was closed. He wouldn’t help her even if he did hear her cries for help.

  His grip on her hair and jaw was so tight it hurt. His mouth tore at hers, he tasted, sucked, shoved his tongue down her throat and tasted her innocence and it enflamed him more. Gripping her harder, Naithon climbed on Kiri, he released her chin and shoved his hand up her skirt. He grabbed the top of her panties, wrapped his fist in them and started to tear them off.

  “Sir,” a tinny voice came through the intercom. “We’re about there.”

  He didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t stop, he won’t stop. Blood rushed in Naithon’s head, he couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, he had to have her, now, right now. He’d waited the years, her father had freely handed her over, she was his, he can take her now. Ignoring her futile flailing and pushing at him, his mouth still consuming hers, he pulled her panties.

  “Sir, we’re heading up the drive,” the tinny voice informed.

  “Fuck,” Naithon muttered curses in English and Romanian. It was the toughest thing he’d ever had to do, except for learn to walk again, but he slowly, gingerly removed his hands from Kiri’s body.

  Shifting off her, he tugged on his shirtsleeves to straighten his cuffs. Panting slightly, his eyes glassy and dazed never moved from her as he fixed his tie, his shirt, and pulled at his slacks to rearrange himself. Smoothed his hair with both palms.

  Kiri was plastered against the corner of the seat and the door. Bosom heaving, her breaths fast and shallow, her arms rigid, hands planted on the back seat cushion. Those eyes that had done him in the first second he’d seen her at her father’s banquet, now bulged in terrified hysteria at him. He grunted, clearly she didn’t share his lust for her. Didn’t matter, he had enough for both of them.

  Naithon’s gaze rolled down the front of her. If they hadn’t arrived, he’d be inside her right now, pounding away, at his property. His. Snorting his contempt, fool Ignacio Delducci. He was keeping her for a night, ja, every night for the rest of their lives. She was his now, he owned her. Collateral, her nasty sister had called it.

  Whatever, he was never giving her back so that redheaded fu
ck could destroy her. It had taken an enormous effort to keep himself from going at the stocky man and breaking his arms before cutting off his dick for touching Kiri so intimately. She had always been Naithon’s, it had only been a matter of time.

  Her chest still rapidly rising and falling with frantic breaths, she watched him stare at her, his dark eyes inscrutable. She couldn’t read them, probably was a good thing. When his gaze stroked over her again, pausing on her breasts, then lower, she gasped and fixed her blouse. He’d pulled it out in his frenzied attack, she smoothed her skirt back down. She covered her mouth with her hand, he’d been tearing at her panties like a demented ravenous wolf.

  The limo came to a stop, the engine shut off. The chauffer’s footsteps on asphalt came along the back of the car, he opened the door then stood aside for them to exit. He held a hand to Kiri to help her out. She glared at it, then with Naithon pressing at her back, she set her trembling palm in it and allowed him to assist her to her shaking feet. The chauffer leaned in to speak to Naithon, and she ran.

  There were woods, she headed towards them. Pedaling her feet as fast as they’d go, she raced to the cover of the trees. She could hide, she could-

  His arm circled her waist and he lifted her in the air.

  “No!” she screamed and thrashed at him. Naithon swung her around so her back was against his chest, wrapped his arm under her breasts and over her arms holding them down, he clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her screams. He held her so tightly against his torso she couldn’t move her head to shake his hand off.

  “Okay, little girl, we aren’t going on like this.” He jerked her hard to still her struggles. In her ear he said harshly, “I own you now, little lamb, you are my property and you will not run from me again, you will not fight me, you will do what I say without argument. Is that clear?”

  She held still for a second, then wrenched her body and tried to kick him. His arm squeezed across her so tightly, his hand pressed hard against her mouth, he crushed the breath out of her.

  He shook her. “Enough. I said stop. Do you wish to incur my wrath, darlin’? You won’t have ever seen anything like me, a junkyard dog with my rage unchained. I promise you won’t enjoy it.” He lowered his hand from her mouth to cup her chin, held the back of her head against his chest.

  “Wh- what,” she stuttered, angry and afraid, “are you going to punch me?”

  His chuckle stirred the hair at her ear. “Don’t be ridiculous. One hit from me and you’d be dead before you hit the ground, little delicate lamb. No. The way to handle wayward, disobedient females is to blister their asses until they can’t sit for a month of Sundays. I have no problem disciplining my woman.”

  “You’re- you’re,” she huffed, “I am not your woman! You have no right to take me from my home, assault me, spank me! You release me right now!”

  “Calm down, my small cattle, I’ve told you, I own you now and you will do as I say.”

  She paused, blinked, frowned. “You mean chattel, not cattle, you idiot!”

  “Oh, tomato, tomahto, whatever, now, you settle yourself down or over my knee you’ll go,” he shook her again. “Kiritina Delducci,” his voice hardened, “trust me, I would not hesitate to bare your ass and wail on it until you surrender to my will.”

  Kiri hadn’t eaten since the day before, she’d been in a constant turmoil about Rueford claiming her. Her brothers and cousins were being picked off one by one. Now this behemoth gangster threatening her. He molested her, her mind started spinning, he was squeezing her too hard, shaking her, her body fell limp.

  “Ah, finally, you capitulate, you will submit to my commands.” He went to set her on her feet, but her knees buckled. “What the hell-” he scooped her up in his arms. Her head lolled on his shoulder. “Hey,” he shook her, she moaned indicating she wasn’t unconscious.

  “What are you playing at now, woman? I am tired of this game.” He let her slide down his body to her toes, but she was still limp. “Kiritina?” Concern edged into his hard voice. Was she faking, going to make a run for it again, or was she ill? His fingers wrapped around her tiny waist to help steady her.

  Kiri clutched his arms to hold herself up. “I’m okay,” she murmured, her eyes closed. “Just tired, so tired, I cooked all night and day, scared, hungry. I…don’t want to be here, with you. I want to go home.”

  Relieved for a second that she was just light-headed, not ill, his lips pushed out in irritation. “Well, lamb, you are here with me, and you are not going home. Ever. Your home is with me now. Cooperate with me, give me what I want and your life will be easy and pleasant, I will buy you anything your heart desires.”

  Still clutching his arms, her neck arched tipping her head back so she could look blearily up at him. “What…do you want from me?” Her long wavy hair brushed over his hands, felt like corn silk feathering his rough skin.

  Naithon lowered his head, almost touched their lips, he breathed into her mouth, “I showed you in the car what I want. You. Me. Sex. Together. I plan to marry you to keep you from leaving me.”

  Auburn lashes flew up. “What? You’re not serious! Are you schizophrenic? You’re a nutcase!” Her little fingers dug into his arms. He smiled down at them.

  “Why?” she yelled. “You can have any woman you want! Piero told me you have strippers hanging all over you constantly. Melonie, she was more than willing to go with you. You don’t want me, you want to punish, what? My father? Humiliate him? Hah,” she snorted. “You saw him hand me over to you without a missed beat. He doesn’t care one whit about me. He plans to marry me off to Rueford Montoblanco.”

  “Ja, that prick with the red hair. No wonder he was all bent out of shape when I claimed you.” His weird eyes narrowed at her. “Hell, he’s got to be double your age, you can read sadistic letch all over his ugly mug. I heard he’s into heavy S and M, the kind where he gets off on seriously torturing and injuring his, and I understand, nonconsensual submissives. Hands bound behind their backs, he restrains them naked against cages, pulls their tits through the bars and binds them so tight they engorge to the point of rupture, clamps their nipples until they bleed. What was your da thinking?”

  Kiri cringed, sickened at his words, then sighed wearily and was unaware she laid her head on his chest. He was acutely aware of it. She said, “I don’t know what that S stuff is, but, Rueford owns prime land my father thinks he can get from him with our union.”

  “Hmm, I can understand that. But what does Montoblanco get out of-” he bit the words off. “Oh duh, he gets you.” Naithon could understand that too, he’d set up a false meeting so he could get his hands on her himself. His lip twisted in disgust. “He’s old enough to be your father. The prick’s a twisted pig. You see, you will be better off with me. Now you will eagerly do as I say.”

  “I will not. I will fight you every inch of the way until you tire of me and let me go,” her words were full of fire, but her voice was weak, small shoulders sagged, her knees wobbled.

  “Uh huh, sure my little lamb for slaughter. Your da wants to put you on a silver platter for men to,” he tipped his head down to look at her and growled, “devour.” One side of his mouth curled up. “Hmm, ja, I want lamb chops on my plate for dinner.”

  She didn’t get his innuendo, she was fatigued, her head was lowered still on his chest, he stared at the top of her head. The waning sunlight made her hair look like it had just been polished to brilliant cherry brown.

  “Okay, let’s go.” He bent his knees and lifted her in his arms.

  He carried her across the vast grounds, she’d run farther than she’d thought. When he reached the enormous house, like a castle, a fortified compound, he slowed, then stopped. A soldier opened one of the double front doors. The door was huge, heavy looking, Kiri doubted she could push it open herself.

  Naithon said, “Here we are, Kiritina, home. There are always people milling about. My soldiers, friends, guards, and as your sister mentioned, women. My men need to let off steam, I
allow the females to ‘hang out’ as you Americans call it. They are going to stare at you. Do you want me to set you on your feet so you can walk through the house with dignity and pride? Or shall I carry you?”

  She had no desire to see the criminals and fallen women that littered his home. Kiri gripped a handful of his shirt. His chuckle hummed against her breast. “Carry you is what it is then.”

  He traipsed up the steps, his boots thumping on brick.

  “Sir, shall I have one of the spare guest rooms made up?” A man was asking about her. Lord, help me, she prayed.

  “No,” Naithon responded, “I’m taking her to my suite.”

  She stiffened in his arms. “No, please,” she whispered.

  “Hush,” he said. “You will go where I put you.”

  Then she could hear voices murmuring. As he stepped across the threshold, the murmurings grew louder, some sounded curious, others astounded. Kiri twisted in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder. His chuckle rumbled amused at her childlike behavior. “Just because you can’t see them, lamb, doesn’t mean they can’t see you.”

  Voices surrounded her as he strode through the people that seemed to be gathering around them. Thank goodness she’d worn a long enough skirt to cover her bum.

  “He can fucking walk!” Boisterous confounded voices rolled over each other in loud dismay.

  “What the hell, who is he carrying?” A male voice asked.

  “Hoy shit,” a female shouted, “you can walk!” Then she grated angrily, “Yeah, who is she? Naithon, why are you carrying her?” Her voice grew fainter as he continued moving, she shouted, “Where are you going with her? You’re not taking that bitch to your room!” Her voice thinned strident and then louder as she trampled after them. “You never let a woman into your room! Naithon! Wait, I’m coming too!”

  Kiri burrowed her face into Naithon’s thick shoulder. It sounded like the woman was gearing up for a fight, oh dear, what does that mean for her?