The sock chokes my protests, but fury burns in my eyes. He rears his fist back and punches me. His hand makes contact with my cheek as a burst of pain explodes across my face. Stars burstbehind my vision, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth as it mixes with the sock's grime. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. To give him any satisfaction.
The hit has me so dazed I barely register his hands on my shirt, yanking the fabric up roughly over my chest. The material bunches under my armpits and with a swift tug, he pulls my bra down, popping my breasts free. The cool air hits my exposed skin, nipples hardening against my will from the sudden chill hitting them. He stares, licking his lips, one hand groping roughly at my hardened peaks, squeezing until I whimper into the gag. No doubt confusing my body’s natural reaction to the cold as desire for him.
He reaches up with his other hand, fumbling with the restraint on my right wrist. It loosens just enough for him to free my hand. My numb arm tingles, the sensation feels like a million pin pricks at once as blood rushes back. Before I can pull away or fight, he grabs my hand, forcing it open as he wraps my fingers around his cock. His skin is slick with pre-cum, as he forces my hand to move, stroking up and down his shaft. He lets go of my breast and leans back supporting his body on his arm as he bucks his hips upward.
I want to vomit. Each time I try to pull my hand away he tightens his grip.
“Yeah baby, just like that,” his voice thick with lust.
Does he seriously think I’m into this? That, in any way of my own volition, am I jacking him off?
“I want to see you cry, you little slut. Do you feel how hard you make me? My cock's gonna feel so good when I finally ram it into your tight hole.” He pumps faster, using my hand like it’s his very own pocket pussy, his grip bruising my skin at how hard he’s holding me. With each pass of his length sliding through my palm, he groans, his eyes locked on my face, searching for tears, for any hint that he’s breaking me.
He won’t find it. I refuse to give it to him. But I refuse to look away. I stare back, blank and unyielding, my mind retreating to safer places. The men who know I'm gone, to my friends. They will come. They have to. They’re going to burst through the door and drag this monster away. I focus on that, on the rescue that's coming, blocking out the sounds of what he’s doing.
His breaths become ragged, his face contorting in that way it does when someone’s about to orgasm. “Fuck, yes, you little slut. I’m gonna shoot my cum all over your pretty hand.”
With a final grunt, he shudders, as hot spurts of cum erupt from his cock, coating my fingers and palm in sticky ropes. It drips down my skin, warm and degrading. The sharp musky scent makes my stomach churn.
He’s still panting as he loosens his grip on my wrist and pulls my hand away from his cock. But he doesn’t let go. He ties my wrist back tight; the rope cutting into my raw skin, leaving his cum leaking down my hand and arm like a mark of ownership.
“I can’t wait until Dad gets you pregnant so I can fuck your sweet pussy. That ass too. But until then I have your mouth.” He gives me a wink as he stands up, quickly reaching down, recovering his clothes from the floor.
The fucker takes his time, pulling on his pants with an arrogant grin as he glares at me. After he pulls his shirt over his head, he leans down, his face just inches from mine, the sock still gagging me.
“Don’t worry, slut. Father won’t keep me waiting long. And if he does, then he’s had a good life. Death wouldn’t be a bad thing for him,” he murmurs, tapping his still half-hard bulge. “Accidents do happen.”
He straightens, smirking one last time before turning toward the door, leaving me bound and gagged. I close my eyes again, willing for sleep to pull me under, away from the nightmare that just happened.
I need to hold on to the fragile hope that rescue is coming and stay strong.
I need to keep fighting.
Chapter 32
Luke
Enginescutonebyone, the early morning air swallowing the sound. Dawn’s just starting to bleed into the sky, the pale gray washing over the trees. We parked our bikes and van at an abandoned house Bash found just around the corner. All we need is some fucking Karen calling the cops on us. Not that we wouldn’t be able to handle them. We have people in our back pockets who wouldn’t want some of their more suspicious activities to be known.
That was the plan.
Hit every location right as the sun comes up. Catch them sleeping. Catch them with their pants down. When they wouldn’t be able to react as quickly.
But something’s off. Maybe we were wrong when we thought she’d be here. It just seems too easy that he would hold her captive here. Fuck, I should’ve spoken up earlier when the plan was being made. But we only had these locations to go off of.
The house is quiet when we arrive, watching just out of sight from the woods across the street. But quiet wasn’t what I was expecting. It’s too quiet.
The windows are boarded up and exterior paint is chipping. Hell, non-existent is more like it. At first glance it looks abandoned, like someone packed their bags one day and left. But we know that’s not the case. There’s electricity on, services registered to Jack Davis, Hiram’s son.
So someone is inside. And that person may be the one to tell us where my woman is.
I step up beside Luca, leaves crunching beneath my boots. The rest of the guys spread out behind us, eyes on the house, weapons ready but low.
“You sure this is the place?” Nic mutters. “There’s no one around. Who’s guarding the place?”
“Maybe he’s just fuckin’ dumb,” Ryker says nonchalantly, smiling at something on his phone.
“It would be, if he spent all this time watching her, then planned on taking her in the parkin’ lot to not leave a trace,” Doc adds. A quick glance at his face tells me he feels the same as me. Not having control of the situation. That our woman was being stalked right under our noses and neither of us knew.
