Page 27 of Sinner's Ransom: Taken
Killough’s eyes dipped, and he ran his gaze over the length of Stone’s body, analyzing him. “No. I’ve learned many things in my line of business, Nick, and one of those lessons is not to trust anyone, especially not business partners. Human beings have a habit of betraying each other.”
“So how do you know Ardan won’t betray you? He could take your money and run.” Stone glanced at the man in question.
Ardan didn’t so much as blink at him. The man stared back, his hazel eyes unfaltering in their intensity, although his fingers did twitch, as though if he could, he would have flipped the bird at Stone.
Killough laughed. “Because Ardan has proved time and again that he’s loyal.” He took a step toward Stone. He was about an inch or so taller, and even though it wasn’t much, it pissed Stone off. “Don’t irritate him, Nick. He might be small, but he’s deadly.”
Stone nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Killough waved his hand toward Ardan and the man turned, heading for the kitchen, probably to get Montgomery.
“Let’s get this done. I have a plane to catch.”
Montgomery approached them a few minutes later. While he didn’t look much cleaner than he had before, he didn’t smell as bad either. Stone wouldn’t put it past him to wash himself in the kitchen sink, not that Stone blamed him. He still wore his boxer briefs, the white on them dirty from their fun out near the river. His chest looked the same, with dirt smeared across his pecs and stomach. The bruise on his eye and cheek had darkened, leaving his skin a purplish-blue.
Conall followed close behind. When his gaze found Killough, he smiled and cozied up to his master’s side.
“Did you have a nice chat?” Killough asked, brushing Conall’s hair off his forehead and kissing him gently.
“Mhmm. He’s twisted.”
Montgomery snorted and smiled smugly in Conall’s direction. “Like you can talk,pet.”
Killough shot him a dark look that would make any man’s knees weak in fear, and Stone stiffened, readying himself in case he needed to interfere.
“Do not call him that. I’m the only one who can.” Killough’s voice was low, tight, but it left no room for argument. Only a fool would argue with him anyway.
Montgomery swallowed, his Adam’s apple bouncing. He lowered his gaze and shifted his weight between his feet.
Stone mentally pleaded for Montgomery not to say anything stupid, to just shut his mouth and go along with it.
“Yes, sir.”
He inwardly sighed. Stepping closer to Montgomery, he touched his shoulder. “How good are you at acting?”
Montgomery cringed. “I got a D in drama class.”
“Then we’ll have to make this as real as we can,” Stone said.
He looked at Stone, excitement dancing in the beautiful gems of his eyes. “Are you going to hurt me?”
Stone’s chest ached from a mere look. How did he come to crave this spoiled brat so much? “Yes. A lot.”
Conall chuckled, but Stone ignored him. He stepped even closer to Montgomery, raising his hand. Montgomery watched it, as though he expected Stone to caress his face, touch him, but Stone grabbed a fistful of his hair instead, holding tightly. Montgomery let out a cry of pain as Stone dragged him toward the wooden chair in the middle of the room, right in front of the camera. He threw him into it.
Montgomery barely managed to catch himself on the seat, but he grabbed the arm with his tied-up hands and fell into it. He grumbled something about being so rough, but Stone merely grinned and raised the hood of his jacket. With the mask in place, he stared down at Montgomery.
His beautiful captive stared back, eyes wide, as his gaze roamed over Stone’s masked face and his body, stopping level with his dick area.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Montgomery whimpered, holding his hands up toward Stone. It almost sounded convincing.
Stone hoped the camera was rolling. He grabbed Montgomery’s hair again, his leather-gloved fingers twisting into the longish strands and tugging on it, earning another sob of agony. Stone ripped the ropes off his hands a little too hard. Montgomery’s wrists were already close to bleeding from how tightly the length had been wound around them, but now the rope burn did make blood well from the cuts on his skin.
He yanked Montgomery’s hand, tying his wrist to one of the chair’s arms, and did the same to the other, Montgomery pretending to struggle the entire time. There was no real strength to it, though.
“Struggle more, kid. You’re not even trying,” George said from somewhere behind them.
Montgomery frowned up at Stone. “Isn’t this live?”
