Page 22 of Clover

Braxton’s pace quickens behind me. His grip around my hips tightening, fingers pressing in so hard I know they’ll bruise. His desire growing angry and rough. Pushing him harder, deeper, faster.

Time is a fluid concept, and I have no idea how long he’s been at it. It could have been two minutes, could have been two hours. Drugs will do that to you. They steal reality and replace it with magical butterflies.

Tremors start to shake Braxton’s body behind me. He’s close and going to come soon. That means it’s almost over.

“Take it all, Clover. Fuck, you feel fantastic. I bet Nix hasn’t even felt your sweet ass yet. I’m gonna come so hard in your tight ass.” Another groan resonates from his throat. His pounding is frantic and hard, causing me to wince. His balls slapping at my pussy, causing more unwanted pleasure. I swear to fucking Christ if he makes me come from this, I’m going to break his dick off with my ass. Forcing myself to not enjoy it. But it’s hard with the Harley amplifying the sensations. I want more and it sickens me.

Smooth large hands slide around my hips and across my lower stomach, fingers stretching and reaching towards my core. Making contact and placing just the right amount of pressure on that overly sensitive spot. His finger circling and sending rippling waves of nauseating arousal through me.

“That’s it sweet thing. Let it out. Give in. You know you want it. I can tell by your slick heat between my fingers. You’re going to come for me little pet, and it’s going to be better than anythinghecould make you feel. You’re going to like it so much you’ll be dreaming about the next time I’m going to touch you.” His words are labored moans inbetween his continued thrusts and now torturous touch.

Forcing my eyes shut I try to forget who he is and what he’s doing because if I don’t, my heart might stop beating in my chest. Especially when the pressure builds to an unyielding unavoidable crishendo pulling from me a massive forceful orgasm that rocks my body and pulses between my legs.

Seaking something to hold on to and squeeze. Finding nothing, but still pulsing all the same. It’s a pleasure that I hoped I would never experience. Forced from me and pulled out of me, leaving me shaking, biting down on the sheets to smother any noise. Braxton may have brought me to climax but I will not give him the satisfaction of hearing how it has affected me. However I cannot hide the evidence of his accomplishment. My traitorous body rocks and sways momentarily in the aftershocks. Wanting more.

After my orgasm it takes him mere seconds until he stills seeding himself to the base as his cock pulses out his release in my anus. It sickens me that I can feel his release hard and hot inside me. Once the pulsing subsides, he slowly slides himself out of me. I can feel his thick sticky cum trickle down my inner thigh, and I shake with unyielding hatred for this man. Thismonster.

“Nix is going to kill you,” I speak into the damp blankets under my face. Slick from my sweat and silent tears. My voice is shaky, and my resolve is starting to crumble. I still mean every word.

Either he’s ignoring me or doesn’t give a shit about my halfhearted threat. The mattress shifts as he moves and steps off. After a moment, he returns, removes the shackles, and unhooks the leash but leaves the collar. My body relaxes, and I curl onto my side. Not caring if I smear blood and cum all over his bed, I pull a blanket over me. Defeated and unwilling to fight anymore today.

“Thanks for the good fuck. Next time it’ll be that sweet pussy of yours. And you’re gonna like it. I’ll even make you come with my dick.” He says that like he’s doing me a favor, promising pleasure. Even the thought of orgasming because of his royal douchebaggery curdles my stomach. He will never be able to bring me real pleasure. Only drug-induced forced physical stimulation.

“When he finds you, he’ll do to you ten-fold whatever you do to me. If I were you, I would think very carefully about touching me again.” my grumbled threat is almost muffled by the blanket wrapped around me. Braxton hears it all the same.

“You’d have to be alive when he finds you for him to know what I did to you. Remember that before you try to threaten me again.” He says as he runs his finger across my forehead and brushes back a strand of hair. His threat is spoken sweet and soft like a lover seducing his mistress. With that, he leaves me to wallow in regret and self-loathing.

I brought this upon myself with all my arrogance. Nix was right. Once again, I find myself sitting on the floor of the shower letting the scolding heat burn off his touch and his cum. Washing away the remnants of this encounter. It won’t always work. The scolding water can’t wash away everything. Sinking under my skin is the pain and anxiety inside my heart at the loss of my sanity, the loss of control. At the loss of hope and losing Nix. Because right now, I have lost him. I am lost to him. Until he comes for me. With every passing minute of every passing hour, that becomes less and less likely.

Chapter 11

Phoenix

Raven and I have been at Blake’s apartment for the last couple of hours as he scours through hours and hours of security videos from every possible location Braxton may have taken Clover. So far, he hasn’t found any traces of her on any of the videos. He did find Braxton entering and then leaving the building that houses his penthouse and then arriving at the Jewelry Box. We watched every second of the video that had Braxton on it since then. Watching him enter and leave a number of establishments. A few of which were after we had made our way through them. Probably cleaning up what we left behind for him. We weren’t subtle or very respectful of his property and may or may not have broken a few doors and the ribs and noses of a few uneducated security guards.

While I’ve been sitting here watching the billion security videos I checked in with Griff, he hasn’t been able to find anything either. None of his feelers have felt out anything. The others are either waiting for us to return to my house or checking in with their own feelers. Other than that, I’ve just been sitting here on this couch. Which isn’t necessarily a good thing. All this quiet time allows my mind to think way too much. Everything is so reminiscent of the aftermath of Robin’s death. The hectic scramble to find who did it, the long hours of waiting for someone to call with info on their location. Sitting around and waiting for something to happen. The difference is they didn’t take Robin. They just killed her without a second thought. I’m not sure which is worse, knowing or not knowing.

At least when I found out Robin was dead, it was immediate. We were all able to mourn and grieve her loss. Drawing it out, not knowing how I should feel, causing me to swing widely and rapidly from extremely hopeful and optimistic then plummeting down to crippling anxiety and misery has my brain swirling like a blender on puree. I don’t know what I should be feeling, and if we don’t find her soon, I’m going to snap and just torture it out of Braxton.

Glancing up at Blake's screens, I can see him working frantically, searching everything and everywhere. His fingers are graceful as a pianist playing a concerto flying across his keyboards. Eyes glued to the screens, not even looking at the keys. He doesn’t need to. He does this so much his fingers muscle memory driving their movements.

“I’m still searching through all the security feeds, but I’m also trying to tap into traffic cameras to see if I can find them leaving Nix’s house after taking Clover and where they went. But that’s going to take a little longer. So, I thought I would check into every building title with the Shaw’s name attached. Found a few interesting shell companies that I’m digging deeper into.”

Blake has been chatting with Raven the entire time he’s been searching. She pulled up a chair next to him and has been watching over his shoulder. Seeming generally interested in what he’s showing her, but I did notice her glancing at him with more than general interest a few times, and vice versa. Hmmm. Don’t know if I approve of this pairing. Gonna have to keep a close eye on Blake. Although getting involved with someone already invested in our way of life makes it easier, it can also get very messy. Especially if they break up. Or things could turn out like they did with Braxton and Falcon with Griffon and me beating Blake within an inch of his life. Then we would be on bad terms with two of the head families. Not exactly ideal, but if it has to be done, so be it.

It’s during one of the moments that Raven is sneaking a longing glare at Blake that he asks the question that shakes me out of my plans to hurt him without killing him if he ever hurts Raven.

“Hey, do either of your guys know a Hillary Jones?”

“Who?”

“Hillary Jones. I ran Clover’s picture and name through an algorithm I wrote to find any credit cards, driver’s license, cellphones, etc., and all the Clover Jones’s I found weren’t her, but this Hillary Jones looks just like her.” Blake points at his screen that has a picture of Clover on a Nebraska state license. I stand and cross the living room to watch over Blake's opposite shoulder from Raven.

He types out a few things on his keyboard and brings up more information on Hillary Jones. Born in Pasco, Washington, to Hannah Jones, no father listed on the birth certificate. No siblings listed either.

“All the info matches what she’s told me. She never mentioned having a different name, though. I’m gonna call Beau and ask him.” Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I do just that. Beau explains to me that yes, Clover is Hillary. Apparently, that was her name when they met, and she didn’t like it, so they chose a new one for her. She just hasn’t changed it legally yet. It was part of her new start in life, I guess.

Informing Blake that yes, Hillary is Clover, he uses that name and ID as well to search for more information on how we might find her. Hillary Jones doesn’t have anything more than Clover does. No credit cards or registrations. There’re a few school records for elementary and high school, then the few semesters she spent in art school before dropping out mid-semester a few years back. That’s probably when her mother got sick, and she needed to take care of her. Hannah. She also had never told me her mother’s name. She did mention her father was never in the picture, but he’s not even listed on her birth certificate. Unless her mother told her before she died, or she does a twenty-three, and me Clover may never know who her father is. The polar opposite of my family. We have our generations mapped out in a family tree going back almost two hundred years, back to when our family’s ancestors immigrated here, mainly from Italy, Great Britain, and France.

---