Page 14 of Stolen

“What the hell are you doing?” I practically screeched, my voice wrecked from the horrific rawness of my throat.

He looked down over me, and a sort of softness came to his face as he reached down to push a wet strand of hair from my cheek with the stroke of his thumb. An easy smile fell over his mouth, the tender gestures disarming me completely as I returned his gaze with hope in my eyes—hope that he would not defile me further. But that hope was crushed in a single word.

“Finishing,” he answered and then moved away out of my direct sight.

My world instantly plummeted. Panic ricocheted throughout my body like a pinball bouncing off everything until it hit me square in the gut. I couldn’t let him do this to me. I couldn’t let him take it this far. I could take on any other beating he wanted to give me, but this was not something I could lie down and live with. With nothing but fumes of energy left, I pushed my head up and tried to fight against my restraints as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over me.

Ever so gently, his fingertips traced along the edges of my back, searing my skin as if he were branding me.

“Your skin bruises beautifully,” he commented as he admired his work. “A perfect canvas.”

I chose not to indulge him, hopeful that my silence might dissuade him and he take pity on me. But those were the thoughts of a foolish little girl. The sound of his zipper confirmed nothing else.

“There’s no honor in this.” I don’t know why I said it, why I thought that would have made any bit of difference. He was clearly a criminal. What good was honor to a criminal?

I held my breath as he moved over me, his hands grazing up my sides, causing me to hiss as I winced from his touch. His warm breath tickled along my neck before I felt his mouth against my ear.

“The prettiest flowers earn their honor in the ugliest dirt,” he said.

My heart sank, crushed into the pit of my stomach where it flatlined completely. I had been talking about his honor, but he was only concerned with my own.

As if he were responding to my downfall, his fingers laced through my hair to gently tuck it back behind my ear, confusing me with an innocent gesture. But terror tore me apart as he positioned himself between the V of my spread legs, barely able to swallow at the sound of him ripping open the condom packet.

“I want you to know,” he said softly, his voice dark and velvety, “this could have been avoided, but since you clearly love to fight so much, I’m going to indulge every time you do. Consider yourself lucky if you can fucking walk straight by the time I’mfinished.”

My hands curled into fists so tight I thought my knuckles would burst through my skin. But I couldn’t stop the words that would likely make the situation so much worse.

“And I want you to know,” I began through gritted teeth, my rage and fear molding into a new kind of energy, “that when the time finally comes and I kill you, I want you to remember this very moment when I warned you.”

A soft chuckle escaped his throat, permeating the air with patronizing amusement. It only made me see red, made my blood rush faster in my veins as I sought to correct his doubt in my promise.

I had no business making any such threats in the first place. I had no idea who this guy was or what he was capable of. But what I did know was that if I ever saw him again, I would fucking destroy him.

With my final act of defiance, he speared into me, slamming against my cervix and filling every square inch of me. I grunted aloud at his violent invasion but refused to give him anything further than that. I felt him lean down to my ear again, grasping my hair and jerking it back in a painful grip.

“Welcome to your new reality,” he growled. The cruelty in his voice sent shivers up my spine as silent tears rolled down my cheeks. He was enjoying this, enjoying my pain and swallowing it up like a man starving for it.

When his stamina became too great, I couldn’t stop my attempt to pull away. He responded by slapping my ass so hard I could barely suppress the scream, only allowing a loud gasp to escape. As his hand returned to my hip, he thrust even faster, finally finishing with an animalistic grunt that echoed in my ears. Leaning down over my back, he pressed his hands into my sore and scorching skin and lowered his mouth to my ear.

“If I have to fuck you into submission every day to remind you of your place here, then I will gladly do so. Your compliance is non-negotiable; remember that. If you act out again, your punishment will be much more severe than this. Do you understand, or do you need more emphasis?”

He increased the pressure at my back when I didn’t speak fast enough.

“I understand,” I answered, my words barely audible.

“Good girl,” he said, getting off me then. “The next time I see you, I expect a dramatic change in your behavior.”

That was the last thing I remembered before hurling myself into the darkness, hoping that when I woke up, this would all just be some fucked up nightmare.

4

Aftermath

* * *

After I had dressed, I opened the door back to my office and stopped in the doorway. I looked back at the girl who had passed out on the bed. Her body had finally given out from the abuse it had taken from me, and I had to admit she held out better than I thought she would. But it made me want to give her more just to see how far I could take her.

It disturbed me how damn amazing she’d felt under me as if her body was made just for me. She fit like a fucking glove, each stroke better than the last until I couldn’t hold back anymore. Even delivering her strikes set me ablaze, watching her body twitch and writhe in pain, fear drenching her face in the form of tears. Her skin had bruised beautifully, the deep colors contrasting with her paleness to create the perfect image of pain and beauty. I realized I could have stood there all day just watching her sleep off our little encounter.

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