Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
The other men are watching with darkened expressions, and eyes filled with lust. Xander told me he liked his women willing, but he seems perfectly content to watch me be forced into sexual acts with other men. My insides burn with hatred for him. He deserves to die.
They don’t stop until Nova cries, but I’m still holding back my sobs as the flogger finally leaves my reddened skin.
“Now, girls,” Xander goes on with a wicked smile. “I’ve been promised a show, and I fucking want one. You got that?”
“Yes, Don Xander,” Nova whispers while I shake my head.
“Very well,” Xander responds, ignoring me. “Give me what I paid for then and show me you’re worthy of the money I spent on you.”
My skin crawls as Nova picks herself up. The guard undoes her shackles and forces her to kneel next to me. She doesn’t look at me before kissing my body. I resist. I don’t want her. But it’s no use, not when I’m cuffed and tied down, unable to move.
At least she doesn’t want this either. I don’t know whether that makes it better or worse. But when Nova’s eyes meet mine for a split second, I see a flash of anger in them that mirrors my own. She hates being their servant, too.
I remind myself I need to keep fighting. I will never give in like the other girl. To me, it’s a sign of defeat, and I need to do everything in my power to keep going up against the men who are doing this to me.
But all those thoughts are soon forgotten as Nova’s lips find my inner thighs. I let out an involuntary whimper through my panty gag as she kisses my pussy, making the men smirk at me. I bet they’re fucking loving this, the sick bastards.
Now that I can’t speak, it’s even harder to express how much I hate this. All I can do is shut my eyes and pretend this isn’t happening. But Nova’s expert touch and tongue make it impossible to ignore the way she’s licking my pussy.
She wants me to come. And if she keeps going like this, I might.
Fear and anger soar inside me, threatening to make me explode from the intensity of both emotions. I want to tell her to stop, that she doesn’t have my permission to touch me like this. But it’s all useless. We’re both at their mercy, and the men seem to have a grand old time, watching us with hungry eyes and their hands on their cocks.
“See, Adelina,” Xander begins. “There are so many fucking ways for me to hurt you. And I look forward to exploring every one of them.”
I snarl out an insult, but the panties muffle it, making the men roar with laughter. I flush with shame as Nova pushes her fingers inside my dripping wetness. I fucking hate this.
“Nova, make her come,” one man suggests. This seems to encourage the girl even more, and she uses three fingers besides her tongue.
I’m burning up with rage but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve been reduced to an unwilling participant in another sick cartel game. My whole life has been the same—being a captive of my status. For a moment, it makes me wonder if I’d be better off just telling the men who I am. Maybe if they found out I was a Castellamare girl, they’d treat me differently.
Or maybe they’d fuck me themselves. For now, it still seems Xander has some limits to what he’ll do to me. The men haven’t touched me save for tying me in place and hitting me. This is more about my humiliation than about them getting off.
But it’s hard to accept that fact, feeling as helpless as I do. And as the first orgasm is ripped from my body against my will, I scream into the gag until I know I’ve lost my voice. The men merely laugh, as if this is the best party they’ve ever been to.
“We could make them do so much more,” one of them suggests. “This is fun. We should keep going. Another one?”
They all turn to Xander, signifying he’s the one in charge here, just like I thought. He gives a curt nod, and Nova returns to her sweet torture, giving me another release that feels more like a slap in the face.
This keeps going for what feels like hours, and with every unwilling orgasm I have, my hate for them deepens. I force myself to think of how I’ll get back to these men, but it’s not much use. After all, they easily overpower me and even fantasizing about Heath rescuing me now won’t change what they’ve already put me through.
Juan’s broken body comes back to my mind and I cry, showing my weakness for the first time. I can’t hold back any longer. I can’t pretend like I’m not hurting. It must be written all over my face.