Page 54 of Sinister Promise

I didn't know what would be worse—being killed and left like trash on the side of the road, or being sold into sexual slavery.

Tears soaked the hood's fabric as my body betrayed meby tightening around him, my arousal coating his fingers, making them slick and their intrusion so much easier.

He said something. The rumble of his voice pressed into my breast before his teeth pressed into my skin. I had no idea what he said. A part of me was desperate to know.

Did he call me his good girl again? Did he say something about the way I took his punishment? Or did he like the way my pussy was pulsing around his fingers? Had he figured out that his gun was the first thing that had ever penetrated me?

Why did this damn hood have to be so thick?

With a shaky, hard-won breath, I shut those questions down and tried to distance myself from all of this. There was nothing I could do yet. I needed to save my strength.

I tried to think about anything else. The dancers had told me how they survived working in the club, doing the shit the vampires paid extra for by not really being there.

One girl said that while she was on her knees, in her head she was on a beach in the Caribbean sipping on a pina colada. Another said she was at home, in her bed, her kid in their own room, safe and asleep. They let their bodies go on autopilot while their minds were somewhere else, anywhere else.

I tried to dissociate.

I tried to think about being anywhere else, to let my mind roam free, but every time I pictured myself somewhere, he was there, too.

He was there, one hand holding a belt, the other between my thighs with three fingers buried deep inside of me, his mouth licking at my breast.

No matter where I tried to be in my mind, Pavel followed me.

I couldn't believe this was happening. How did I end up here, and was there even a single hope of escape?

The car stopped.

Warm fabric was draped around my body, and I was lifted out of the car and thrown over his shoulder again.

I had no idea where we were.

The hood muffled everything but there was no mistaking his arm wrapped around the backs of my thighs, holding me in place.

He stopped and turned around, and by the sudden g-force pressure that made my head swim, my stomach drop, and my ears pop, I assumed we were in an elevator.

His hand moved up higher on my thighs, sliding underneath the fabric he had wrapped me in.

I twisted my wrists, testing the bonds of the handcuffs. There was no escape.

His fingers toyed with the seam of my pussy, just petting the sensitive skin. Warmth and pleasure spread from his touch and shame filled my veins.

It was several minutes before he started walking again. We must have been really high up.

A skyscraper or really any kind of tower meant there were people around. A hotel? An apartment building? Hell, even an office building meant there were people. It was a Wednesday afternoon. There had to be people coming and going.

Right?

Maybe someone would hear me scream?

A kernel of hope blossomed in my chest as I tried topull enough air into my lungs to scream. I would only get one good one, so I had to make it count.

Pavel set me on my feet, and my head swam as I struggled to stay upright.

I knew better than to run.

I couldn't see and I had no idea where I was. Instead, I took another deep breath, preparing to let it all out in one horror movie-worthy scream that would shatter his eardrums, curdle the blood of anyone nearby, and call for help.

I had no idea if I could pull that off, but I had to try.

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