Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Are you okay?”
“It’s… you’re big.”
“Too big?”
“No, no,” she pants like she doesn’t want to disappoint me.
I try to push into her again, but she makes the same noise again. I pull away. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I growl.
“What do you want?” She spins on me quickly. “How can I help you? How?”
“Get on your fucking knees and get your tits out. Now.”
I’m unhinged, not thinking. She does as she’s told. Then I grab her head and bring my cock to her mouth. “Let me feel that tongue and play with your pussy.”
“Play… like this?”
She starts rubbing her wet slit as she opens her mouth wide. Stop, stop, but it’s too late. I push my thick shaft into her mouth, feeling her tongue, the back of her throat. Her eyes water a little. Fuck me. I’m a horrible man. She deserves so much better, but I’m like an animal.
I slide out of her mouth and back in frantically. Soon, the fire is rushing up my shaft.
“Swallow it,” I snarl.
I need my seed to be inside of her for some reason. It isn’t a conscious thought. It comes from a primal level, something deep inside. Her throat shifts as I come in her mouth, and then I stumble back, staring down at her. Some of my come is dripping down her chin. Her naked tits are red. Her legs are soaked.
Next, I do the worst thing possible and make the cruelest choice. Pulling up my pants and not saying a word, I rush from the storage room. I almost run from the hotel. Later, I tell Mike I had a work-related emergency. It’s not as if that is some unlikely thing. I don’t speak to anybody else after that.
I just left her there: my woman, my Emma. I left her with the taste of my come in her mouth and her thighs soaked with our betrayal.
CHAPTER ONE
RAFAEL
Six Months Later
Ihave to admit that I enjoy hurting people. There is something special about it. When I inflict pain on a person, it’s like part of their soul slithers into my heart. I own a piece of them by hurting them. That’s why this is so satisfying. I whip Jacob Jennings across his broad back. He’s tied to the ceiling by his wrists, blood weeping from his muscles: naked, alone, and afraid.
At least he should be afraid. But once the whipping ends and I walk around to his front, the big man just stares at me blankly, like he doesn’t feel anything. It took seven of our men, as well as a lot of luck, to even catch him. Jacob Jennings has always been a problem for men in my profession, but this past half year, it’s like a demon has possessed him.
“You will be dead soon,” I tell him. “Don’t you want to say something?”
“Why don’t you just let me know what sort of response you’d like,” he says, far more mouthy than he should be, considering all the whipping. “We can go from there.”
“So you’re that rare breed, then? A man unafraid of death?”
Several of my men are posted around the room with rifles and pistols. Even chained and beaten, people are scared of Jacob goddamn Jennings. The buzz from the whipping has already faded. There is little satisfaction when my partner refuses to cooperate.
“It’s got nothing to do with fear. I want you to do it.”
I laugh. “You want me to kill you?”
“It’ll make outrunning these demons easier.”
“Demons? Ah, I see. Your poor little heart bleeds for my product.”
He spits at me, a big globule of blood. Luckily, I see it coming and duck to the side. Even so, I have to dish out more punishment for this. We’re keeping his face clean for now—for hostage videos or ransom—but his body is fair game. I get him with a few punches and then step away. He’s breathing hard, but there’s too much fight in his eyes.
“Your product,” Jacob says, shaking his head, even letting out a grim laugh. “If I had a canister of gas, I’d light a fucking match in here. You deserve to burn as much as I do.”
“Oh, you deserve to burn, do you?”
“For my own reasons,” he grunts, “which, even if they’re fucked up, are not even close to yours, you sick bastard.”
I pull out my pistol and aim it at him. He stares with no response. It’s absolutely sick and disappointing. “You believe your own legend, Jacob. You’re some superman, aren’t you? Some badass? Some American hero?”
“I’m a bad man, Rafael, but I don’t steal and sell kids. Most men would die before they did something like that.”
“Steal, sell. Such coarse terms.”
“Shoot me. Cut off my head. Parade it around in front of your Cartel buddies. One of these days, we’re going to get you, and you know it, too.”