Hell by J.L. Beck
15
Rowan
Lucian is relentlessly fucking my face while Alexei is using my pussy for his pleasure. The butt plug vibrates in my ass and is shoved deeper each time Alexei thrusts into me.
I can’t breathe. Panic claws its way through me as I desperately try to suck in some air, but there is no room. Lucian has his cock so deep down my throat that my windpipe is constricted.
Struggling against my restraints, I say a silent prayer, hoping that he was joking. He has to let me breathe. He has to.
“Come, slut. Come for us,” Lucian growls, his voice barely his own. He sounds primal as though he is barely holding on to his sanity.
My vision goes black, stars dance before my eyes from the lack of air. I’m certain I’m about to pass out. Then it happens. I come. I come so fucking hard I forget where I am. It’s like an out-of-body experience. I’m floating in nothingness, wrapped up in pure ecstasy.
I’m vaguely aware of Lucian coming in my mouth; the salty taste of his cum lingers on my tongue as he pulls out.
My entire body goes slack, every muscle in my body is depleted, and I feel boneless. Alexei keeps rutting me from behind while Lucian frees me from the gag. My jaw aches as I try to close it, and Lucian massages my cheeks as I’m still trying to come down from whatever high I just experienced.
“I think she can come one more time, milk my cock dry as I fill you up,” Alexei grunts behind me.
“No,” I whimper, shaking my head. “I can’t.”
“I think you can.” Lucian lets go of my head, and I let it fall onto the bench, my cheek pressed against the leather.
He moves to my side, and his fingers find my oversensitive clit, no matter how much I protest and try to squirm away. My whole body spasms with each touch, and all I want is for this to stop.
It’s a nightmare, but I can’t wake up. Having no control and nobody caring about what I want or need. I’ve had dreams like this before, but nothing as real, as painful, or as completely hopeless as this.
It’s all too much, and I can’t take it anymore. I’m sobbing, begging, feeling like my body is going to rip apart if they don’t stop soon.
It doesn’t matter. It’s like I’m here, but I’m not. Like I don’t matter. They could kill me, and it wouldn’t matter so long as they get off.
The worst part is, I can feel another orgasm coming on, and I don’t want it. It hurts; everything hurts. I’m too sensitive, so the slightest touch feels like an electric shock.
“Please!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “It hurts! Stop!” But then anything else I might’ve screamed gets pulled away when another orgasm shoots through me, making every muscle tighten, making me spasm uncontrollably. It’s torture—that word keeps running through my head as my body shakes from the force of my release.
Somewhere in the background, I hear their laughter. They’re proud of themselves for breaking me, for forcing me to come, for humiliating me.
But it still wasn’t enough for them. They’re not going to stop. They’re never going to stop. All I can do is weep, too tired to fight back. Too tired to scream anymore. I’m broken. The little trust I had in Lucian is broken.
That must be what they were going for since they finally stop after the last orgasm. The room goes quiet. The tears that fall from my eyes now are those of relief because it’s finally over. I’m so weak I can’t even raise my head. I can’t move a muscle. Then suddenly, gentle hands untie me and lift me off the bench.
I’m cradled against Lucian’s chest as he murmurs sweet nothings in my ear. I don’t want his kindness now. I don’t want anything from him anymore. My lips part, and I want to tell him to leave me be, to go away, but my eyelids flutter closed, and I fall into the abyss of darkness before I get the chance.
The last thing I see is Lucian’s stupidly handsome face looming above mine.
* * *
Where are they?That’s the first thought that goes through my head when I open my eyes, what has to be hours later. My body tenses in preparation for what’s to come. As it turns out, there’s no need for that because I’m back in my bed.
I shake my head. No, not mine. In Lucian’s house. I have to stop thinking of it as mine—especially after last night. It feels like it happened to somebody else, not to me. No way could I have lived through something like that. The humiliation, the pain, the helplessness. The sense of being completely ignored and disregarded. I trusted Lucian, and I was stupid to do that.
I look down at my body, almost expecting to find it dirty and bruised. Instead, I’m dressed. I’m guessing Lucian cleaned me up and put my pajamas on me. He even tucked me in like he did back at my place. Like he got tired of playing with his toy and put it back for safekeeping. Did he kiss my forehead this time? I run the back of my hand over it, disgusted.
My eyes land upon a note on the nightstand: Three down, one to go. Bile threatens to race up into my throat, and I crumple the note in my fist.
Funny how the note I got with the dress and shoes excited me a little. It made my heart beat faster, made me bite my lip in anticipation. I can’t pretend I haven’t enjoyed our time together so far—at least, that was the case until last night. Last night was a totally different situation, and I don’t think I can go through that again.
The only problem is, will he care? I don’t even know if I have the guts to say it out loud. What will he do? How will he react? I’ve seen his temper. I’ve seen that look in his eyes that makes me think he’s going to kill somebody.
I don’t want him to look at me that way, God knows. But I also know I can’t go through it again. My body, my soul, it’s too much to handle.
And I’ll hate myself if I don’t at least speak up. I have to. I owe myself that much. Even if it pisses him off. I at least have to remind him that I’m a human being. I’m not just a few holes that can be filled whenever.
Screw the bath today. I’m not in the mood for a long, luxurious soak. Showering takes effort—even after sleeping for hours, hours in which I don’t think I moved once—because I’m ridiculously sore all over. It takes longer than it should to wash and shampoo my hair. Even keeping my arms over my head takes effort. It’s as though I’ve just been through a strenuous workout.
The items in the vanity don’t strike me as nice or thoughtful anymore. They were always tinged with uncertainty, anyway, seeing as how they must’ve come my way after somebody broke into and went through my apartment. Now I can’t bring myself to touch them. All of this is like some big, gorgeous wedding cake full of poison.
Once I’m dressed, I make it my mission to find one of the guards. They’re so sneaky, all of them. None of them is exactly a small guy, either, which makes it even stranger to me that I rarely see or hear any of them. I only feel myself being watched.
I finally run into one of them outside, where it looks like he’s waxing one of Lucian’s many cars. “I need to see Lucian.”
It’s not so easy to stand up straight and tall with my chin raised when he looks at me. I might as well be a bug he wants to squash under his shoe. “What?” he grunts.
“I said, I need to see Lucian. I need to get in touch with him. Can you take me to him?”
He finally stops what he’s doing long enough to look me up and down. One of his eyebrows arches. “You know what you’re asking me?”
“Of course, I do. I need to talk to him. Can you take me to him?” I then look to the right and left at the other cars waiting to be waxed. “Or I could take one of these myself. I do know how to drive, even if my car isn’t here.”
“No, that’s not gonna happen.” He folds his massive arms over an equally massive chest. “I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”
“Thank you. Please, tell him it’s very important. I have to see him right away.” I can only hope he does what I ask, that he doesn’t treat this like it’s some kind of game. I can see how it would be easy to do that—to pat me on the head and send me on my way, knowing my word means nothing around here. Lucian is the one calling the shots. I might as well be a toddler who can scream and kick all she wants but who’s never going to be treated as equal.
I spend an hour waiting in the library, flipping through the pages of a book without really reading any of it. I can’t focus my thoughts on anything but whether or not he’s going to come. And if he does, what will happen. I’m sure he doesn’t like being interrupted.
What’s the alternative, though? Waiting a week? Or maybe even longer this time. There’s no guarantee when he’s going to decide he wants me again.
And the thing is, I might not know he wants me until it’s too late. He might spring out of nowhere and pin me down, and by then, it will be too late to tell him I don’t want him to ever, ever do to me again what he did last night.
I’m actually starting to doze off a little when the door opens. I jump, startled, my heart in my throat, looking up in time to see Lucian striding into the room. I can’t read his face. Is he pissed off? Concerned? Hell, for all he knows, he might’ve seriously injured me last night. That might be what I’m calling him here for.
He comes to a stop in the middle of the room, arms spread. “Well? Now that you interrupted me, why don’t you tell me what’s so incredibly important?”
The fact that he can stand there and talk to me that way tells me he still doesn’t see me as a person. He can’t, not after what he’s put me through. And it doesn’t matter that he tucked me into bed like last time. Eric was also nice to me after he beat the shit out of me. It’s like I exchanged one of them for another just like him.
“I’m not doing this anymore.”
I didn’t even mean to say it that way, but now I’m pissed off, too. And something is satisfying about the way his face falls. I finally figured out a way to knock him off balance.
“Excuse me?” he finally sputters. “Not doing what, exactly? Living in my house? Having free run of the place? Or maybe it’s the clothing you’re wearing. Maybe that’s what you don’t want anymore.”
“I never asked for any of this. I’ll happily give it back to you right now if you want.” I stand, unbuttoning my jeans.
“Stop it. You’re being childish.”
“No, I’m not. I’m standing up for myself. There’s a difference.” And now that I’ve gotten started, it feels damn good. I could get used to this. “And I mean what I say. I can’t do this anymore. Last night was too much. I’m going back to my place.”
He looks at me like he can’t believe what I’m saying. “There was nothing in our agreement—”
“I understand that. But I don’t think it’s exactly fair. I had no idea what I signed up for, and you know it. How can I walk into a situation knowing my voice doesn’t matter? You could end up killing me for all you know.”
The bastard even has the nerve to scoff. “You were perfectly safe at all times.”
“That’s not how it felt. You have no idea how it felt. But what made it worse was being ignored. Like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.” I put a hand on my chest, and it’s only when my voice cracks a little that I realize how deeply he affected me. How hurt I am on a level much deeper than anything physical.
There I was, thinking I meant something to him, and then he turned around and did that. Completely disregarded me because he was having too much fun to stop.
“I want to leave. I want to go back to my apartment.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You didn’t tell me I was going to be a prisoner when you brought me here!” I’m practically shouting now, but I don’t care if anybody hears. Let them hear. Let them know how much I don’t want this. “Thank you for what you’ve done for me, really. But for one, I didn’t ask for any of it. And two, this can’t go on forever. I have to get back to my own life, get a job and rebuild everything I’ve lost.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. I don’t know if that’s because he’s trying to control his anger or because I’ve completely blindsided him. I doubt he’s used to people standing up to him, telling him what they want. Denying him.
He’d better get used to it.
When he does speak, there’s a dangerous note in his voice. It’s too flat, too even. “May I remind you of our agreement? The terms of it?”
“The terms didn’t include me staying here under lock and key.”
He inclines his head. “You’re right about that.”
“So I should at least be able to go home. Have a little bit of control over my life, you know?”
“And what about the threat to your life? Has that suddenly ceased to be a concern?”
“I’ll do what I have to. I’ll move someplace else.”
“I’m afraid that will be impossible. You still owe me an encounter, and if you skip town without making good on that, I’m afraid I’ll have to send my men looking for you. Trust me. They’re very good at finding people.”
Him and his fucking encounters. “Fine. If that’s what it comes to, you can have the money back. I haven’t spent any of it. So long as my debt is cleared, we’re even. I don’t owe you anything.”
No, I don’t want to do that. But it’s my last hope. If I don’t owe him anything, he has no claim over me. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to draw that card, but he’s not exactly giving me any choice.
I can see the wheels turning in his head. What’s he thinking? I’m almost afraid to find out. But at least I’m standing my ground. At least I can say that much.
He shakes his head. “I can’t allow that.”
My heart sinks. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I was sort of hoping. “Why not? That would make us even, right?”
“This isn’t a matter of being even, Rowan. It’s a matter of fulfilling your obligation. You have an obligation to me, and you agreed to certain terms. What did I tell you the night we first met?”
“But you bent the rules, didn’t you?” His brows knit together, and I know he knows what I mean. I jump on it, taking advantage. “You can bend the rules when you feel like it. Like you did when you told that guy to stop cutting me. Can’t you bend the rules now? It went too far last night. I can’t let myself go through that again. I’ve already spent too much of my life letting other people push me around and tell me what to do. I’m not going through that again.” I lift my chin a little. “I would think after seeing for yourself what I’ve gone through, you would be able to respect that a little.”
“Do not compare what I did to you to what your limp dick of an ex did. We made you come three times. We made you come so hard you passed out. I took care of you after. Washed and dressed you, tucked you into a bed, and covered you with a three thousand count thread Egyptian cotton sheet. You act like I beat you and threw you into some dungeon.”
I huff, frustrated that he doesn’t understand why I’m upset. “I know you didn’t hurt me like he did, but you hurt me in a different way, and you treat me—”
“I think you fail to see something important,” Lucian cuts in before I can finish. “The way I treat you when we have sex and the way I treat you at any other time is not the same. I have very specific tastes when it comes to sex, and you agreed to fulfill them. So all you have to do is keep those two separate.”
I look at him dumbfounded. How in the world was I going to keep it separate?
“How about this.” He slides his hands into his pockets, which I guess is better than tightening them into fists. “You stay and fulfill your end of our agreement, and we’ll use a safe word this last time. That way, when you use it, I’ll know it’s time to stop.”
It’s tempting. I don’t want to give up the money, so this might be a way around that. If I at least have a word I can use to bring everything to a stop, I’ll have a little bit of power in the situation. That’s better than nothing. “And you promise that if I use that word, you’ll stop? No questions asked?”
“No questions asked.”
“Okay. I can live with that.”
He smiles, satisfied. “What would you like the word to be?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Red?”
“Fine. Red it is. You say that word, and the fun stops.” He raises an eyebrow. “Anything else? Or can I go back to my day?”
He always has to have the last word, doesn’t he? “No, that’s it. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule.” That might’ve come out a little sarcastic, and maybe I shouldn’t have done it. But there’s a bit of a smile at the corners of his mouth when he turns away, so I have to wonder if he minds all that much.
