Hell by J.L. Beck
5
Rowan
Here I am again.And I still have no idea what the hell I’m getting into.
He didn’t tell me how to dress this time, something I didn’t realize until after I got home. After I sat in a hot bathtub long enough that my fingers pruned, and the water went cold. And still, I sat there, knees drawn up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them. I didn’t keep track of time. It could’ve been hours, for all I know.
Even after all that, I didn’t feel clean when I got out.
That guy with the knife, whatever his name is, didn’t hurt me as badly as he could have. I know that. The cut on my chest is shallow, hardly anything, really. Just enough to draw blood. I’ve had worse from a pissed-off cat. That cut wasn’t the scary part. It was the possibility of what could have happened. It was me being utterly helpless. Even more helpless than I had been with Eric. It was the look in that guy’s eyes.
Something tells me he wasn’t taking pity on me, that psycho. He was only warming up, testing my reaction. I hope he got what he wanted. And I can’t help but wonder who he ended up going to after me, who Lucian sent him to. What’s that girl’s story? How did she end up in Hell, and did she make it back out in one piece?
The name makes me snicker darkly as I walk to the door. Whoever was in charge of naming the levels in the club knew what they were doing because I got a glimpse of hell last night. Not my first glimpse, and probably not my last.
I hope the more modest dress I chose for tonight is okay. I get the feeling that if it mattered, Lucian would’ve said something. It’s not like we spent a lot of time together, so I haven’t gotten a total read on him yet, but he strikes me as somebody who controls everything he possibly can. Everything that matters, anyway.
If he didn’t mention it, I doubt it matters.
Besides, something tells me I won’t be wearing clothes for long. It was one thing to wear what I wore last night so he could get an idea of how I look and whether I was worth the asking price.
Now? He’s seen every inch of me. I shudder at the memory of that table, being strapped down and completely helpless. Maybe it’s the fact that he didn’t touch me. Maybe that’s why I came back tonight. He didn’t take advantage of me when I was right there—his for the taking.
Not that I have much of a choice. I had to come back, especially since ten thousand bucks magically appeared in my checking account this morning when I checked online. How it got there so quickly, I have no idea. I only know it’s there, so he’s fulfilled his part of the bargain. That means it’s time for me to fulfill my part.
I could’ve tried to run away. Ten grand can put a lot of distance between a girl and the shit she wants to get away from. But if the man could afford to wire me that much money on a whim, something tells me he could find me if he felt like it.
Nobody is waiting for me outside tonight. I open the door and let myself in, peering through the near darkness. I’m early, and it looks like only one or two customers have come in before me. A pair of men are sitting at the bar in the room beyond the entrance, and a few mostly naked girls walk around.
“Can I help you?”
I have to keep myself from jumping in surprise at the sudden voice coming from beside me. The girl is beautiful, with glowing ebony skin, wearing only a see-through bra and thong. I feel like yesterday’s leftovers all of a sudden, which is ridiculous since I’m not even trying to compete with her or any of the girls who work here.
“I think so? Um, I’m here to see Lucian. He asked me to come back tonight.”
“He’s right there.” She nods toward the bar, and now I realize what I missed before. One of the men sitting at the bar, sipping on something in a rocks glass, is Lucian. I didn’t imagine he would ever socialize with his customers, but then who knows if the guy’s actually a customer? It’s not my business, anyway.
And I don’t really care, either—it’s a defense mechanism, trying to distract myself by fixing my attention on random things. Trying to make sense of them so I don’t have to make sense of the nightmare running through my head.
It’s something I’ve had a lot of practice with.
I walk slowly from the reception area, my head held high. I won’t let him break me down—as it is, I’m ashamed of how I acted last night. How I whimpered and begged him.
Though deep down, I think it turned him on. It makes me wonder for maybe the millionth time since he told me to come back just what his kink is. He never did say. I really wish he had now.
What if it’s the same as what happened to me last night? I don’t know if I could live through that again without losing my mind.
He sees me and finishes his drink before murmuring something to the man sitting beside him. I can’t get a read on that one, and now I hope he’s not going to be a part of what happens tonight. I didn’t sign on for a gang bang. Then again, I don’t know what I signed on for. I just want to get it over with.
“You came.” There’s no surprise in his voice. In fact, there’s not much of anything. He’s stating the facts, that’s all.
“Did I have a choice?”
The corner of his mouth slides upward. “No. You didn’t.” He gestures with his hand, waving me on without saying another word.
We walk more slowly this time, so I can get a better look at the main floor. “This is really beautiful.” And it is. I’m not just saying that to kiss up to him or convince him to take it easier on me. This isn’t what I would’ve imagined a sex club looking like. It’s very sleek, luxurious, and I guess it should be considering how much people probably pay to live out their fantasies here.
I wonder how much that sadistic bastard from last night pays. Definitely enough to help afford the top-shelf liquor at the bar.
If Lucian heard me compliment his establishment, he chooses not to respond. So is this the game we’re playing? That’s fine. I can play the quiet game.
We come to the stairs. One set leads up, one leads down.
Now fear starts to trace a cold line up my spine. Are we going to Heaven or to Hell? Did I sign up for more of what I’ve already gone through? Please, please, go upstairs. Go upstairs.
I practically have to lean against the wall for support when Lucian does, thank god, go up the stairs. If it’s happening in Heaven, I can handle it. Or so I want to believe, anyway.
“This way.” He takes me past the hall on our right, the one leading to his office, and leads me deeper down the main hall extending in front of us and cutting down the center of the floor. Some of the rooms are open, without even any doors, so people passing by can look inside and watch the festivities. I hear soft moaning coming from one of the rooms, and curiosity makes me sneak a look from the corner of my eye.
“Do you like that?” I realize Lucian fell in step beside me rather than walking ahead of me, and he’s been watching my reaction.
“I didn’t really get a good look,” I confess, and I’m glad the few sconces on the walls don’t give off much light. So he can’t see the heated flush on my cheeks.
“By all means. They wouldn’t perform in the open if they didn’t want to be watched.” He gestures toward the doorway, and I get the feeling I shouldn’t say no.
There are three people in there: a man lying on his back across a leather-covered bench, dressed in a shiny rubber suit from head to toe. A leather-clad woman is playing with his dick, smacking it around while he moans from behind his mask. A second man watches from the corner, stroking himself while instructing the woman to be rougher.
“Do you like what you see?” Lucian’s breath is hot on the back of my neck, yet it makes me shiver. I can’t say I do, but I nod anyway. I’ve never understood shaming or hurting somebody to get off, but I know there are people who want nothing more than to be abused.
Maybe that’s his kink. Or maybe he likes to watch and identifies with the guy in the corner. I could handle that. Is that why he wanted me to stop here, to watch for a minute? Is he introducing me to what he wants for tonight?
No, as it turns out. “This way.” He continues down the hall and opens the door to one of the other rooms.
I can’t stop shaking. I walk with my arms wrapped around myself, afraid of what I’ll find. Another table with restraints? Something worse than that?
All I find is what looks like any ordinary bedroom: a double bed with lots of pillows, soft lighting from lamps on either side. Off to the left is another room, its door open—just a bathroom, plain and simple. I keep waiting for something or somebody to jump out at me. But it doesn’t happen. Lucian closes the door, sealing off any noise traveling from those open rooms.
I can hear my heart pounding as I turned to him. “What do you want from me?”
He looks just as impeccable as he did last night, but there’s something different about him, just the same. A light in his eyes, the tensing of his jaw as he looks me up and down. The slight flaring of his nostrils. I got very good at reading body language, thanks to Eric.
And everything about Lucian tells me something is simmering below the surface.
“Tonight, you’re all mine.” He begins unbuttoning his suit jacket, his eyes on me as he slides it from his shoulders. The tie comes next, and I wonder if he will use it as a blindfold or a restraint. “I want you to fight me.”
For one brief, insane moment, I imagine us sparring with gloves. But, something tells me that’s not what he means. “Fight you?” I whisper.
“Yes. Pretend you don’t want this.”
Pretend? I don’t think that will be too hard since there won’t be any pretending about it. Maybe if this was a different situation and we had met someplace else, it would be different. There’s no denying how hot he is, how handsome and sexy. His whole aura is sexual, sensual, but also confident and commanding. It’s a brutal combination that might melt me otherwise.
But I’m not in this situation because I want to be.
“And that’s it?” I can’t help but ask. My voice is so small, and I wish I didn’t sound so scared. Though something tells me he gets off on that, too. Or else he wouldn’t want to pretend to force himself on me.
“It will be, so long as you do what I ask.” He takes a step closer, then another, extending one hand. “Come here.” It’s not an invitation. It’s an order. Still, there’s enough honey in his voice to make me think this might not be so bad. Definitely better than being tied down and cut to pieces.
So I take his hand, noticing how small it is compared to his. He engulfs me, closing his fingers around mine, and a slight tug leads me to the foot of the bed. The duvet is sumptuous, silk, and I have to resist the impulse to run my hands over it as I sit.
He stands in front of me, parting my legs with one knee and positioning himself between them. I look up at him and have to remind myself to breathe as my heart picks up speed again.
He strokes my hair, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. “You’re perfect.”
Before I can thank him for the compliment, his gentle hand turns into a fist, wrapping my hair around it and pulling my head forward. I can’t even take a breath before my face is pressed against his crotch through his pants.
“You’re going to feel this cock inside you.” He moves his hips, grinding himself against my face. “In your mouth. Your cunt. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
I’m supposed to fight, so I try to pull my face away. When his grip only tightens, I yank on his wrist while trying to push him away with the other hand.
He chuckles, pulling me in harder. “Come on. You can do more than that, can’t you?” Since I can’t say anything, I beat at his hand and try like hell to turn my face away from his growing bulge.
He pulls my hair, tipping my head back. I can breathe now, and I gulp down as much air as possible while he unzips his pants with his other hand. He’s breathing heavy, looking down at me with his eyes half-lidded.
The next thing I know, he pulls me in again, and this time he guides himself into my mouth and plunges deep with one solid thrust.
Immediately, I gag when he hits the back of my throat, but he only pushes in even farther. I don’t have to remind myself to fight as I’m afraid I’ll choke to death if I don’t. I try to push him away, beating my fists against his thighs, and he chuckles darkly before pulling back and slamming himself into me again.
My nose is against his pubic bone, and I can’t breathe. He’s suffocating me, fucking my face so hard his balls slap my chin, and tears roll down my cheeks. I can barely pull in any air, and I can feel myself getting light-headed as he drives into me over and over.
I don’t have to tell myself to fight. Reflex is doing that for me, my body taking over, fighting to make sure it stays alive. It’s not working, though. He’s not letting up—if anything, he takes me harder, his thrusts sharper.
When he finally yanks my head back, I could cry with relief, even though the hand in my hair hurts like hell. I’m sweating and tearstained and gasping for air.
He smiles—nasty, cold, pleased, before pushing me back onto the bed.
Reflex takes over again, and I try to slap his hands away as he reaches under my dress. “That’s right,” he grunts. “Try to stop me. See what good it does.” He clamps his hands around my wrists and pulls my arms over my head, then pins them down with one hand while fishing under my dress again.
I wriggle back and forth, grunting and whimpering and panting for air, genuinely trying to escape this. He’s enormous—my mouth and throat hurt from taking him—and I’ve never put anything that big inside me before.
I barely hear the tearing of my panties over the blood rushing in my ears. There’s no closing my legs to him, not when he’s already wedging himself between my thighs. He presses against my entrance for a split second before shoving his dick inside me.
I bite my lip against the cry of discomfort-bordering-on-pain as he stretches me beyond what I’ve felt before. “So tight.” I look up in time to see him close his eyes, his mouth an O-shape.
He lets go of my wrists and straightens up so he can take off his shirt. I almost forget I’m supposed to be fighting, too busy staring at his chiseled chest and torso, his thick arms and shoulders. His hips don’t let up, pumping, taking me hard.
And oh, my god. There’s warmth down there, in my core, at the place where our bodies are connected. Heat. I’m getting wet. This is making me wet. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I broken or something?
I only know that if this keeps going much longer, I’m going to come.
