NEFARIOUS: B723 SERIES BOOK THREE, page 14
With the help of the small basement window behind me, my vision attunes to the blackness and the outline of his frame sitting on the ground.
“What can I do for you?” Unlike my current state, his tone is unruffled, but I refuse to let him see me nervous because if he does, he’ll talk me right out of this.
And I’ll listen this time.
“You can shut up,” I answer honestly.
His immediate dark chuckle runs up the side of my arms, and I steel my spine against it. I can’t think about him as a person but a thing. Just something I need to do. How my sisters would know if I have my way with him or not is beyond me, but they obviously have connections if they can so-call frame Laurent.
I’m really in no position to call their bluff or even chance it.
I haunch over what I think is his body and over his legs, ignoring the fact that I’m touching someone who doesn’t want to be touched.
“Did you grow a conscious?” I almost sniff at that because he has no idea.
“No.”
“Ah,” he says softly. “You came down for round two.” I clamp down on my teeth and reach for his jeans, finding his naked upper thigh, and I jerk back. “Your sisters make sure I’m good and ready when they come down.”
I’m. Going. To. Throw. Up. Everywhere.
Cowering over a tad, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. My clenched fists hold steady on my knees, and I’m doubting everything my sisters said, along with the already known fact about doing this.
The lights to the basement suddenly turn on, and my eyes widen in surprise and sheer panic that I have to look this man in the eye as I screw him.
Mills looks absolutely exhausted.
There is caked blood along the corner of his lips and underneath his nose from getting hit. Purple and yellow shades still lining his cheeks from along the stubble of his face.
But those grayish-blue eyes are as bright as the first day I saw him.
“Did you come down here just to stare at me, Rus?”
Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I lock my jaw, making it appear that I’m aggravated that he’s speaking to me. “And if I did?”
He holds my gaze when he says, “Then I’d say you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
My nostrils flare as I shove back a sob.
I can’t do this.
“It looks like you already have those,” I whisper, pointing to the colorful markings underneath his beautiful irises.
Then I see scratch marks down the left side of his face.
From one or both of my fucking sisters.
Get this over with, so you can leave and call Laurent.
“Yeah,” he surmises. “But they don’t feel so bad when they got something nice to look at.”
“Stop complimenting me,” I snap, my teeth drawn together. “It’ll do nothing.”
“Never said it would.”
I glance down to the army green boxer briefs he’s wearing and wish I had a damn condom. Who the hell knows where my sisters’ cunts have been?
We can all just share the same miserable STD because we’re all going to hell together for this.
“You’re not going to do it again.” My focus trails back up to him, and I expect anger but only receive calmness. “You said you were sorry, right?”
“I did.” The overhanging lights flick on once, then twice. They can either hear me, or they’re psyching me out.
“Your sisters getting you down here to do this?”
Smart man.
“In a way,” I reply. “I see they’ve been down here a few times.” He remains quiet, and I avert my focus because I can’t stand to look at him like this. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?” he mutters.
Five minutes and we’re out of here. Do it, and then we’re getting him out of here.
Trailing my attention back to his badly beaten face, I put on the most stuck-up expression I can. Mirroring my eldest sister, who I wanted to be like a long ass time ago.
“I want you to call me Odette when I fuck you.”
“I want you to call me Odette when I fuck you.” My eyes narrow in sheer confusion at what the adorable woman hovering over my lap just said.
She’s in gray shorts that show off her tan legs and a pink tank top. Her hair is messy as if she just woke out of a dead sleep to come down here and say those words to me.
At first, she looked nervous, and I appreciated it because it meant she had a regard for what was happening to me.
However, I’m not looking at that anymore.
She may appear a little nervous, but those green eyes that stare back at me are full of irritability and rage.
“And why would I do that?” I retort, twisting my features at where the hell she’s going with this. I’m so fucking tired that even this conversation is wasting every bit of energy I have left. Still, the moment I recognized it being her in the basement, my brain cranked all the way back on.
I’m not lying when I say she’s a sight for sore eyes. She’s the most attractive, the sister with the smallest mouth and urge to come down here.
Except, right now, I think I may have played her out wrong again.
No, I have.
I’m losing focus. My brain is lagging behind itself. There’s nothing different about her other than the fact that I’d gladly fuck her the most out of all three of them.
“I’ve always wanted to be her,” Amirah confesses. “Her self-confidence, the way she carries herself in conversations and throughout society. She can get any man to eat out of the palm of her hand.”
“So? What does that have to do with me calling you that bitch?”
“Because when I fuck you,” she growls out, balling her hands tightly into fists “I want you to call me her. I want to be her.”
What in the actual fuck?
“Are you high?”
Amirah glares at me. “Are you stupid?”
I scoff. “Yeah.”
For thinking you’re beautiful and different.
I’ve been down here too long, growing somewhat accustomed to having my dick used as a pogo stick. I think my brain has taken the off-ramp to denial and disassociating myself with this whole situation.
The moment I feel fingertips brushing the side of my semi-hard cock, I jerk away from Amirah’s grabby touch. Some part of my brain is still here, fighting off the wicked sisters of the rich and the desperate while needing to get out of here is still strong as ever.
“Think about this,” I warn through my teeth, watching her rise to stand. “I don’t like being fondled unless I ask for it.”
“Then ask,” she retorts, running her thumb underneath the waistband of her shorts and pulling them down. My fucking cock twitches in response, and I bite down on the tip of my tongue.
I will not be sexually attracted to one of my captors. This isn’t some Dateline episode.
I might be a victim, but I’m not going to break from this. This is just another form of torture that we weren’t trained on.
“Fat fucking chance that’s going to happen, Rus,” I snarl, watching her lacy black panties come down next. “For every time you touch me, I will touch you back.”
“It’s Odette.”
“It’s Rus,” I shoot back. “Fucking Rusty. Rus, Amirah.”
“Stop.”
“Or what?” I lean forward, expecting her to counter my action, but she stays exactly where she is. My eyes flick down her naked half, and she squirms under my heavy gaze.
If she wants to violate me, I will do the same in any way I can to make her feel uncomfortable.
“Don’t think I’m going to be here forever, sweetheart,” I put forth, and she lowers herself again over me. “I’m not just some random asshole you guys picked up drunk off the street.”
She answers me by seizing my cock right through my boxers and squeezes. A shrill of lust hitting my balls and down to the tip of my toes, and, fuck me, I want to screw this bitch into the cement wall behind me.
I want to break her into a million fucking pieces. I crave to do what I said before and fuck her ass and her mouth so hard that it leaves her aching for days before I come back for more.
Amirah Van Doren just signed her war against me.
And she’s not even on my dick yet.
“Your threats are getting boring.”
“I can promise you they’ll be anything but,” I retort to no avail. Nothing I say is going to get through to any of them. But I think it’s more for me than for them. Putting up some sort of fight so I can feel a little competent in this.
Amirah slides her fingers inside the front pocket of my boxers and helps free my cock.
I don’t say another word. They’re all used up.
She falls onto her knees, and I feel the tip of my dick run along her opening and clit. The sudden holding of breath from her body.
And dare I say, she’s hesitating.
“I’ll fuck you willingly,” I emit through a mutter. “If you let me go, Amirah.”
“What makes you think I want you willingly?” I open my mouth to tell her that she doesn’t vibe me as so unsympathetic—again, my denial brain must be kicking in again—when she slides down on me, and all the air in my lungs expels from my chest.
Her tightness wraps firmly and deliciously around me, and I groan.
Yeah.
I fucking groan like a damn caveman that hasn’t been deprived of pussy over the last few days.
Amirah lifts her weight then drops back down, the palms of her hands resting on the cement wall on either side of my head. Her breasts are in my face, and I’m battling with biting one of them. I’ve already gotten my ass handed to me twice; I’m really not in the mood to have it done again.
But the rising temper that is boiling inside me, that I’m going to release pretty soon here.
“Feel good, Amirah?”
“Odette,” she breathes, driving herself up and down…with her eyes closed.
“Let me see those greens.” She shakes her head and drops her chin, solely centered on what she’s doing.
I try to ignore how amazing she feels. How, again, in any other circumstance, I would devour this woman until I couldn’t move anymore.
But we’re not there; I’m here. She’s got the upper hand and is using it to her advantage.
“What’s the matter, Rus?” I taunt. “You don’t like looking at your victims. I’d say it’s one of the best parts.” Those greens fly open at my vague admission. “There we go. Now, if you wanna do this right, you hold my gaze to show me how you’re in control, and I’m below you.”
“Shut up,” she seizes out. “I didn’t ask for you to talk.”
“I’m just coaching.” Her lips part again to probably tell me to shove it when she must hit a spot she likes because a soft and sexy moan escapes those plush pinks. “Good, you’re enjoying it.”
She growls, and I answer it by thrusting upward off the floor, giving her a taste of what she and I would be if I wasn’t like this.
And she wasn’t the bitch that she obviously is.
“Oh my God,” Amirah mutters under her breath, and I bang my head a little against the wall to keep me focused on the here and now.
The situation.
The chains wrapped around my wrists.
The throbbing of my body from getting my ass kicked. This form of torture is brutal to the mind. It’d be even worse if it was Odette and Solange.
But with Amirah, all I want to do is fuck her myself then ruin her because no form of beauty or hesitation on her part is going to get me to go easy on her. I will slowly rip everything from her like clothing until there is nothing left and her fate rests at my will and hands.
However, I can’t keep my body from buzzing and my brain from forming some sick inclination that it’s enjoying this.
I hurl on my chains, making them rattle loudly against my thoughts.
Amirah jerks back but doesn’t stop. Instead, she gives me a dose of what I was just trying to shove down her throat.
“Mad?”
My nostrils flare against her cocky question. “Pissed.”
“You wanna stop?”
“Bitch, I will fucking end you.”
“End me, what?” She slams her pussy around my cock, right to the hilt, sending a flutter of carnal need to my balls. “Odette?”
“Nah, Amirah,” I seethe. “I see you, baby. All of you. Right down to those perky tits and that tight ass pussy choking my cock.”
“You could’ve fooled me,” she whispers, leaning in closer. “It sounds like you’re enjoying this.”
“Only one way to find out.”
“How?”
“You can never hide feelings in a kiss, Rus.” I come closer. “Let’s see how much that holds true.”
“I don’t want to kiss you.”
“You just wanna fuck me, huh?” She bobs her head twice.
Lies.
I lick my bottom lip, and her eyes follow. Then I erase the space, pressing my lips against hers and creating another wave of hunger to my dick.
My tongue brushes against the seam of her lips, coaxing them to open wider for me. It takes zero effort after that to persuade her to follow along. She lapses mine, and another moan infiltrates into my mouth.
Then I bite down and taste the metallic tang of her blood on my tongue.
She yelps and flies back before getting to her feet. Her hand covers her mouth while my eyes trail down the length of her toned thighs and the dark center between them.
“I told you to keep your fucking hands off me, sweetheart,” I snarl out. “I bite.”
“You asshole,” she stammers, sticking out her tongue to examine the damage.
“You can send your men down here to beat my ass now.” I see the slight shake of her head before she rights herself. “Now, get the hell out of my sight.”
She doesn’t wait for another comment, pivoting on her feet and getting her ass back up the stairs.
Amirah’s mine now.
I got her blood within me, and that blood bond is nothing that anyone else can break.
I hear the door open and click shut. My body warning me to come to attention, but it remains seated on the floor, chin in my chest and a paralysis that won’t lift from my body.
Hope has already fleeted my soul. I feel the hollowness inside and the constant ache in my chest that makes me feel sick and desperate to just fall to sleep and never wake again.
My instincts again attempt to rise on high alert, but my brain shuts it down again. It battles with my will that we need to keep going. How can I face myself in the mirror when I can't save myself? How do I fall back into line with my job when it’s perpetually a keepsake that I was once a killer but became a victim.
“Well, the girls weren’t lying when they were hyping you up.”
I don’t recognize the voice.
However, it still pings at me to look up. I fall on the body of a woman in a silver gown that barely covers her pussy as she steps forward. The harsh click of each stride pricking at my nerves.
I blink back the blurriness of the room now being half lit, and when I do, I’m rendered fucking speechless.
Blue.
Long red hair.
Banging body.
Perfectly cut features on her face, and that sexy smirk that always dawns her expression.
“The fuck?” I grumble. It’s barely audible, but a higher lift of Blue’s lips confirms that she heard me.
Lowering herself onto her haunches, she moves a piece of hair out of my face. “How you doing, Mills? You look like shit.”
I stare at her, watching her study me quickly before letting out a disappointed sigh. “What?”
“I want him,” she yells out before a man comes in from behind her with a syringe in his hand.
My eyes flick to Blue’s in warning of what the hell she’s doing, but she remains stationary as the fucker approaches me.
I know what it means.
I know what comes afterward.
I know that I can’t do it anymore.
I want to know what the fuck Blue is doing here and how she’s here.
A slow uprise of betrayal begins to slither its way up my spine, setting my nerves rigid.
Why does she get to waltz in here without the crazy sisters taking her hostage as well?
Something like fury boils inside me for the first time in I don’t know how long. The familiar pinch of the needle feels like it’s entering my skin and calls my attention to focus.
“The hell are you doing?” I shrill, feeling the drugs that seem to get stronger each time they stick me.
My body hasn’t grown immune to it, causing me to believe it's something different each time. Whether it’s laced with something else, but each side effect is either stronger, weaker, or newer with the same result—I can’t fight back.
I’m a corpse of a body that the girls use for their amusement and pleasure. And even as Juliette promises me that it’ll stop, I was still involved in a gangbang with Odette and two of her fucking friends last night.
“I didn’t stick you, dummy. I pinched you.” My body is then drug from the wall, and before my skull can hit the cement floor, hands make sure it doesn’t.
Male voices speak lowly, and I compel my eyes to stay open. To not give in to the weakness that’s beginning to settle in.
“Now—“ A comfortable weight falls from to my hips, and Blue’s voice sounds closer. ”—don’t move.”
“Bl—“ Lips slam into mine, but they’re not forceful but soft. I still recoil from them because they aren’t what I want.
What in the actual fuck is happening in my head right now?
“I know you’re fucked up,” Blue whispers into my mouth. “But I need you to do what you normally do.”
“Get the fuck off me,” I snap automatically, trying to thrust my hips to remove her from my body.
“That works.” Her mouth travels over to my cheek. “I got you a way out of here.”
A way out of here.
Blue’s hands roam my sides, and I cringe outwardly.
“If you don’t get the hell off me,” I seethe. “I’m going to—“
“And you’re bossy too,” Blue muses loudly, chuckling like this is hilarious. She shifts her weight on top of me, and my body jerks, finding a loophole in the bullshit they gave me.
