Fierce King by Ivy Mason

Four

When I opened my eyes,I was alone.

I jerked myself upward, leaping off the bed in one jump, my mind racing.

No. No. No.This couldn't be happening. Not again. I raced towards the door, noting that it was a dark oak, and looked thick and strong. I grabbed the silver handle and, twisting it, tried yanking it open.

It didn't budge.

My heart beat faster. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. My mind whirled, my breaths coming in and out so fast that I grew dizzy. I yanked, again and again. Trying to wretch the thing open.

When it didn't move an inch, I swirled on my feet and took in the room. The walls were painted a pale lavender. The color was soft and should be comforting, but it only seemed to squeeze the nerves in my stomach tighter. There was a bed and a desk, with a rolling chair.

I remembered now.

The Kings had taken me.

I clasped my hands to my chest, heaving great big breaths, knowing that I had to do whatever I could to get out of this situation. The Kings didn’t release their prisoners alive. My fingers twisted in the material and I suddenly realized that my white dress was gone. In its place was a fitted black shirt.

Panic made me yelp, and I scrambled to yank the shirt over my head and to the floor. I quickly backed away, hitting my back against the wall. My fingers brushed against lace and I looked down, realizing with a wave of relief that I still had my bra and underwear on.

For some reason, the sight of my own underwear, my white lace panties and bra, gave me comfort.

It was a ridiculous notion, that if they'd raped me they would've discarded my underwear, but it was a possibility. Also, it wasn’t sore between my legs.

I eyed the shirt suspiciously, trying to decide if I should put it back on or not.

My eyes drifted upwards and I suddenly realized there was a window in the room. The bright light filtering into the room told me it was daytime. How long was I out?

By the ache in my stomach, it’d been at least several hours.

Peeling myself off the wall, I ran to the window and tried to open it. Again, the stupid thing didn't budge, and I screamed out, slamming my fists against it. When it didn’t break, my eyes scoured the edges, noting the screws that kept it bolted shut.

Grabbing the rolling chair from the desk, I stood on top of it, taking a few minutes to keep it from wobbling, and tried to twist the screws with my nails.

When Dimitri took me, my cowardly, dear old daddy hadn’t even bothered to call to tell me, or even to say goodbye. Men had just showed up at my apartment, threw a black bag over my head and dragged me, kicking and screaming out into the waiting car in the back parking lot. They threw me into the trunk, uncaring if they were seen or heard.

They didn’t pack any of my belongings or even let me say goodbye to any of my friends.

From then on, I belonged to Dimitri. I was to do and say and act exactly as he pleased, my new owner.

And now, as much as I hated him, I'd been snatched up once again, taken by the very men I despised and feared in equal measure.

I wasn't safe here. These men would kill me, or worse, rape me. Sell me off to the highest bidder to a man who wouldn't bother to make sure I'd achieved a happy ending before he shoved his dick inside me.

Rage coursed through me.

I had been so close to getting out of the life. Once I had my degree, I could’ve gone anywhere. Escaped this life. Have dreams. Possibly a family.

God, I was stupid. You never escaped the mafia, except at the end of a steel barrel.

Ugh! I slammed my fist against the window. This wasn't working!

Giving up on the screws, I jumped to the floor, then grabbed the chair and hurled it at the window, screaming.

I wouldn't let them take me. Wouldn't let them rape me.

I would never let them sell me.

I'd rather die first.

The chair bounced off the window, not even making a crack.

I tried it again, this time slamming it into the glass over and over. I was going to break this motherfucking window if it was the last thing I ever did.

I didn't care that I was making enough racket to wake the dead. My mind was consumed with one thought:

Break the window. Escape.

Break the window. Escape.

I was so overwhelmed with the idea, that I didn't hear the door open, or the steps that came towards me.

I jumped when strong arms wrapped around me. They tightened so harshly that I immediately dropped the chair.

My feet flew in the air as my captor jerked me off my feet. Legs flailing, I kicked out, wiggling my body, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Let me go! I won't let you rape me!"

A dark voice chuckled, rumbling against my back. The arms around me were a steel trap. Unmovable.

Fuck! I was sick of being so weak. If I ever got out of here I was going to take every self defense class I could find.

In fact, I was going to take Krav Maga or whatever badass karate class so that I could kick ass and take names.

But for now, I had to get out of Coulter’s grip.

I suddenly went slack, which surprised him so much that he fell forward. I raised my arms, easily sliding from his grasp and slithered onto the floor.

I didn't wait for him to recover from his surprise. I jumped to my feet and bolted towards the door. Jerking it open, I stuttered to a stop.

Two men stood outside it, facing me. They had no weapons in their hands but they were both large. Unusually strong looking.

These men weren’t the kind of strong that was formed in the gym but by running through the streets, fighting with other strong men. Possibly squeezing large necks through their strong fingers.

I dropped to the floor again, quickly crawling on my hands and knees. I hoped I could surprise them and squeeze in between them.

I didn’t even get close. They both reached me at the same time. One of them yanked me up by my arms and the other one grabbed my feet.

I kicked the one at my feet, aiming for his nuts. He easily side stepped me. “You won’t fool me again.”

So, it was the same goons from before.

He caught my flailing legs and shoved his large body in between them. His large hands grasped my thighs tight. My struggle was useless.

Oh God. This was it.

They easily carried me to where Coulter was waiting for me.

He was fully dressed in a dark black suit, pants, and a starched white button up shirt. The pants still had creases in the legs and the shirt didn’t have a wrinkle in it, as if it was made to withstand helpless, struggling maidens every day.

His tie was silver, and somehow it brought out those damn golden eyes that I loved-hated so much. The knot was loosened. Not from the struggle with me, but it looked like he’d pulled it down after a long day of being a dick, then coming home, hoping to find a compliant kidnapped woman in his room.

My eyes fell to his sleeves that were rolled up, where I could see a gorgeous display of tattoos on one arm.

I bit down on my exhale, loving the sight.

God, they were sexy, just like him.

The Golden Boy.

His hair was a halo of gold-brown, mussed up just enough to look sexy, with golden brown skin, and those stupid gold eyes.

He looked like he was born under a golden sunset, with piles of golden coins surrounding him.

I hated him. Hated how my body reacted to him, my breath hitching and my heart pounding faster. My fingers itched to run through his hair, to muss it up even more just so he would have something imperfect about him.

It was too much for me, and I had to look away from his shine, cursing myself.

I should've lived out my college days eating bon bons and getting fat so every single man would blanch at the sight of me.

My thoughts came into a sharp focus as Coulter moved towards me, a glint in his eyes. He walked with the confidence of a man who had everything he ever wanted handed to him on a silver platter. Money, power, prestige.

His predatory gaze told me that he knew he had all the leverage in this situation, and that if I wanted to keep my life, I'd keep my mouth shut, except to form the words, ‘yes, master’.

That's what Dimitri wanted anyways.

Yah, that wasn’t happening. This stupid, sexy, asshole was going to find out really quickly that I wasn't going to be his docile little lamb any time soon.

He was going to have to break me first, and that was never happening. I would kill myself before I let a man do that to me.

"You look better with the ski mask on." I twisted my lips up in a smirk, exuding confidence I didn’t feel, still being held by the two goons. In reality, I felt ridiculous and helpless, just hanging here like a spent piñata.

He paused for a second, and the lips of his mouth pressed into a firm line. But it didn’t seem like he was suppressing his anger.

Instead, it appeared as if he was trying to keep from laughing. It only made me angrier, how my being kidnapped and held against my will was entertaining to him.

I gave him an angry, disgusted look and he came towards me again, this time with a more determined look on his face.

He walked like a predator now, his focus solely on me. My throat was suddenly dry. I knew that I was his prey, caught in his trap, and, just like with Dimitri, there was no escaping.

When Coulter was by my side, he didn't speak, just lazily took me in, his eyes roaming shamelessly down my body. They lingered on my neck. Really? My neck? Then on my breasts.

Now that was more like it. I was a good ‘C’ cup.

I gulped. Not that I wanted him to like them.

They didn’t linger there long, but roamed from my lacy bra to my panties, then down my legs.

I'd never felt so exposed in all my life, not even after I'd undressed in front of my first boyfriend back in the eleventh grade, a secret I'd kept from my father.

I wiggled uncomfortably. "Put me down."

Coulter's goons only tightened their hold and Coulter’s hand went to my legs, his fingers brushing softly over the skin of my thighs.

It sent a jolt of electricity burning between them, right into the center of my being, and suddenly my whole body was on fire.

I was burning from the inside out, all with one simple touch from this man.

I suddenly wanted to know what his lips tasted like. Would they be soft and sweet, or hard and demanding?

I glanced at his lips. They were the perfect fullness. Of course. I wanted to nibble on them before I sucked them into my mouth.

My eyes moved to his eyes and I jolted even more when I saw the fire in his gaze.

Was it possible he felt the same way I did?

Was his body burning with a need to touch me? To feel my body pressed against his? To know what my kisses tasted like?

To know what it would be like to feel me come undone under him?

Because I certainly wasn't wondering those things.

I struggled even harder. "Let me down. I swear I won't try to run."

“It wouldn't matter if you did.” He grinned and even his teeth were perfect, except his smile was predatory. A shoulder came up and the heat left his gaze in an instant, replaced by a cold wall of indifference. "You can’t escape me, Rose." He leaned over, his hand pulling a strand of my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. My skin burned from where he'd traced it across my skin. “The sooner you come to accept that, the easier your life will be."

“Wow, you really seem concerned with making my life easier.”

He smirked, but didn’t answer. Straightening, he motioned to his men to let me down.

I felt better as soon as I was steady on my feet. More in control, even though it was a stupid thought. I didn't have any more control now than when I was hanging there.

I straightened and stared into his eyes, giving him my most intense gaze. “So what’s next? Got a poisoned apple for me? Going to lock me up in a tower without a door?”

Again, he looked amused and I clenched my fingers into a fist. God, it would feel satisfying to punch him in the face right now.

Except, hitting your captors only made things worse for you. I understood that all too well now. Men who kidnapped women had no qualms about hitting them back.

When he didn’t answer, I leaned into him, my spittle flying in his face as I demanded. “Well? You’re the one who took me. What do you want with me?"

His face was suddenly hard, and he sneered at me as he responded. "Absolutely nothing."