Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
A rough cry of pain ripped from my throat, muffled by the gag, as he roughly bit my nipple. “You like that, don’t you? Dirty bitches like you always enjoy pain,” he rambled.
I glared at him, my chest heaving. I had to get loose.
My hands were itching to break his fucking neck.
He pulled a knife out of his pocket. A plan quickly formed in my mind. If I could get somewhat loose, I could gain the upper hand.
Using the knife, he cut my leg restraints, which was his first mistake. As soon as my legs were loose, I kicked him in the face, sending my chair flying backward with the force I put behind it. He sprawled backward across the floor, roaring out in pain, blood spurting from his nose. I crashed roughly down on my arm again.
He yanked me off the chair and threw me onto the floor, my arms still bound behind my back. My head roughly slammed against the cement floor beneath me, and black spots danced in my vision. I rapidly blinked, trying to fight past the darkness threatening to swarm my vision.
He climbed on top of me, and before I could kick him again, he sat on top of my legs, pinning me down as he turned his body to yank my boots off my feet. I bucked my hips under him, trying to get him off me, but he was too heavy. The only thing moving beneath him seemed to do was make him harder.
Disgust crawled through my veins.
He yanked my jeans apart with sheer, drunken strength, and ripped my underwear off. I fought harder, but I was fucked—royally fucked. I wasn’t getting out of this situation. There was no fucking hope for me. Even when he slid off my legs, he just held them down with his hands so I couldn’t move them.
I glared up at the ceiling, gritting my teeth, so much rage pulsing through me that it made it hard to fucking think—to breathe.
I was going to be raped.
Right as he was about to push into me, someone yanked him off of me. I heard a fist hit skin, but I didn’t turn to look. I curled into a ball, trying to hide the most important parts of my body.
The olive-skinned guy from earlier dragged a now dead, bloody man towards the other side of the room. The ringleader knelt in front of me a moment later, his dark eyes intent on my face. I tilted my chin up at him, refusing to be worn down.
A small smile tilted his lips.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. I wanted to scoff. I was kidnapped, and he wanted me to trust him when he said he wasn’t going to hurt me? “You’re safe with me.” He slowly extended his hand out to me. I just gritted my teeth, staring between him and his hand. When he saw I wasn’t going to freak out, he reached forward with his other hand to untie the gag.
I worked my jaw around, loving the freedom I had to move it now. Soreness rang through my jaw, but I pushed it down. Pain was weakness, and I would not be weak in this situation.
I went back to watching him. I didn’t trust this man at all. I saw how he had acted earlier, and I didn’t need him lashing out at me unexpectedly. Right now, I still knew that submission was going to be more useful than my bravery.
“My name is Travis,” he told me. “What’s yours?”
I continued watching him for another moment before I answered, “Katie.”
He nodded, acknowledging my name. “I’m going to untie your wrists and take you upstairs. You can get a shower, and I’ll have Grace make you something to eat.”
I didn’t say anything—just nodded my head at him. He untied my wrists, then proceeded to take his shirt off. I barely kept myself from licking my lips at the sight of all those muscles and tattoos on display. Sure, he had a lanky build, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. His upper body flexed with every move he made to pull his shirt over his head.
And he a damn V that was sure to drive me fucking wild.
He handed me his shirt with a smirk when he caught me running my eyes over him. I just evenly met his gaze as I took his shirt from him and slipped it over my head, almost moaning at the smell of it. It smelled like a very expensive cologne mixed with the smell of pure man.
It was almost orgasm-inducing.
He held his hand out to me when I got ready to push myself off the floor, but I ignored it, standing up on my own. His shirt was enough help. Everything came with a price. Even small shit that a normal person wouldn’t think twice about, there was always some kind of price tag involved in it.