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King’s Captive: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance by Piper Stone – Sample

Chapter One


“Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice.”

Samuel Johnson


I wasn’t a just man. In fact, the majority of those who knew me considered me evil, a monster, commanding the streets of New Orleans with an iron fist. I controlled by ensuring an understanding of my family’s power, using threats to handle business so violence was rarely needed.

Unfortunately, there were those who’d crossed a line, something that could no longer be tolerated.

I took a deep breath, enjoying the unexpected freedom, prepared to retake my command of the King fortune. However, there were actions that required consequences, and I would provide them. I dragged my tongue across my lips, hungry to move forward, the future brighter than ever.

Even if blood flowed in the streets.

Power was something that I excelled in creating for my family, even though the way we’d garnered such significant influence was considered… controversial. I laughed at the notion. The King family reeked of power as well as wealth, our kingdom built decades before.

However, our gilded crowns had become tarnished. That would no longer be tolerated.

I was heir to a throne, first-born son of Sylvester King, a man feared by every person living within the city of New Orleans as well as beyond. Considered one of the most notorious crime syndicates in the United States, our kingdom had allowed us good fortune over our decades of maintaining tight reins.

There were some who said that wealth had a requirement of hard work. With regard to our family, the reality was a product of certain unsavory practices, ones considered monstrous by most people. Building an empire was something else entirely.

That had taken stamina and fortitude, often paying a hefty price for living behind a steel-plated shield.

I’d allowed a crack in the armor, and paid the price, but at least I’d protected my family.

Now there would be hell to pay for my penance.

The humidity was thick, enough so that even taking a deep breath felt suffocating, yet a smirk crossed my face as I adjusted the cuffs on my sleeves. I continued to stare into the sky, enjoying the string of vibrant colors dancing across the horizon. A storm was brewing, the tumultuous clouds creating an ominous setting over the dilapidated parking lot, the brisk breeze shifting the stench of garbage over the parade of reporters who’d ventured all the way to the Louisiana State Penitentiary.

I chuckled as several of them coughed, still pressing closer in order to obtain the perfect picture, perhaps a caption on the nightly news.

“Mr. King. What’s it like to be out of prison?”

“Mr. King. What are your plans now that you’re released?”

“Mr. King. What do you have to say to the family of the man you murdered in cold blood?”

“Cristiano. What do you have to say regarding the accusations that your early release was due to money exchanging hands? Given there was a mistrial, do you expect to be tried again?” The male reporter had a smirk on his face, the familial name meant to goad me into doing something stupid.

I walked close enough that I was able to look him directly in the eyes, remaining unblinking.

Ubiraysya proch’ prisoski,” Dimitri growled, my Capo shifting into his protective mode. He issued a series of actual barks after tossing out the nasty sentiment. Then he lurched in front of me, flexing his muscles, his six foot four inch two hundred plus pound frame terrifying at least half the crowd.

Three of the reporters glared at the oppressive, dangerous-looking tattooed blond with fear in their eyes; however, the asshole male wasn’t one of them. I’d be curious to find out his name.

I pushed Dimitri back casually, giving him a heated look, keeping my voice low. “While I want the freaking lot of them to get the fuck away as well, I don’t think calling them cocksuckers will help in that endeavor.”

“Yeah? Well, the motherfuckers deserve worse. We need to get you the fuck out of here,” Dimitri growled, his gruff voice exactly as I’d remembered. He knew better than to attempt to maneuver me in any manner, his years of training in handling my mood swings allowing him a position of authority.

And tonight, I was pissed as fuck.

I shot a cold stare to the closest female reporter, allowing her to catch the stark look of rage only shown in my eyes. She seemed startled, her hands shaking and her lovely mouth twisting. When she slowly lowered her microphone, taking a step back, I resisted the urge to smile.

Toying with them wasn’t in my best interest, but I’d never been a man to follow anyone’s rules, including the staunch requirements laid out by my father years before. After all, I was a brutal man, a ruthless killer, at least according to the very reporters standing in front of me like lambs awaiting their slaughter.

I gave the reporter a lust-filled look, allowing my gaze to travel all the way down to her patent leather pumps, chuckling under my breath as I dragged my tongue across my lips. The ragged breath escaping her mouth was a delicious reward, although only slightly enticing the hunger that had been placed on lockdown for far too long.

“Yeah. I’m ready for a stiff drink and a hot shower.” I was sure my father wouldn’t be impressed with the photographs that would appear on the front page of the local news.

“Don’t blame you. Shithole of a place.”

My Capo had been incarcerated in his native homeland for three years, the time spent doing hard labor. While the penitentiary I’d been forced to endure was considered maximum security, it was a posh hotel in comparison to the hell he’d been forced to face. They say prison hardened a man. He was like stone, ice running through his veins. That’s why we got along so well.

Turning sharply, I walked toward the SUV, the driver scrambling to open the rear door. As I settled inside, I took one last look at the electrified barbed wire fence surrounding the prison, remaining quiet as Dimitri settled into the seat beside me. Tonight would be just the beginning of a new chapter of the King family.

But first, I would exact my vengeance.

“We’ll be back in New Orleans in a couple hours,” Dimitri said quietly before handing me a satchel.

I didn’t need to bother peering inside, the hefty weight of the duffle indicating a variety of weapons. Dimitri knew exactly what I preferred, including my favorite Beretta.

“I made certain your house was in order. I had the cleaning staff pick up a few things as well. They damn well better have gotten everything you preferred or there will hell to pay,” he added.

“I assume you brought the information I requested,” I stated as I poured a tumbler of scotch, lifting the crystal glass into the dim light, prepared to savor the rich flavor. Dimitri knew better than to cross me, my ruthless Russian Capo one of the few men I trusted with my life. He also had an innate understanding of my tastes.

He slid a file across the seat, not bothering to glance in my direction.

I’d spent eight months wallowing in a prison cell, treated like a fucking animal. The time had allowed me reflection, especially with regard to the assholes who’d betrayed me.

I took a sip of my drink before even glancing at the file. Only when I’d settled back into my seat did I bother to inspect the contents. The information was exactly as I’d suspected, details highlighting the little prick who’d sold me out to the Feds.

“I assume you know where Ricardo lives, his current place of employment,” I said casually as I swirled the glass, studying the snitch’s scarred face, my grip tightening around the glass.

“Of course. Shithole down in the French Quarter. Some greasy Italian joint,” Dimitri stated, grumbling under his breath. “I should have taken the motherfucker out when I had the chance.”

“And deny me of the pleasure?” I chortled.

“Yeah, well, he’s been enjoying a damn good life,” he railed.

That was about to change. Sighing, I took another sip, filtering through the remaining information. The asshole would soon face my wrath. “And the other item I asked you to look into?”

When he remained silent, I slowly turned my head in his direction.

After a few seconds, Dimitri jerked another file into his hands, his grip firm. “Are you certain you want to do this? I know it’s not my place to ask, but you know the Feds are likely expecting retaliation. I mean, this is a federal witness.”

As if I gave a shit.

I resisted the rage that had remained pooling deep inside me since the ridiculous hoax of a trial. Even though his tone reeked of insolence, I was also aware of his well-conditioned concern. Someone had used me as a scapegoat and that someone was going to face the barrel of my gun. While the asshole witnessing my handling of business wasn’t out of the ordinary, the fact I’d even been arrested meant there was a breakdown in our affairs of state.

The King family owned at least half the police department, and a good number of attorneys and judges. They’d remained loyal through the years and in return, we offered them not only protection when needed but a certain portion of our wealth for their extended… favors. The fact we’d been betrayed meant someone was prepared to enter into our kingdom, attempting to take us down.

My family believed they knew the identity of the assholes behind the ploy. I remained uncertain and refused to start a war based on innuendoes.

The members of the Azzurri crime syndicate, a second mafia family who’d taken residence in our city only twenty years before, were ruthless bastards. However, they’d never attempted something this intricate, their soldiers little more than barbarians who’d eat their young if necessary. This had been something entirely different. I found it difficult to believe they’d dare come after us in such an egregious manner.

However, I would find out.

My arrest and subsequent incarceration had tarnished the King family, hindering not only our business activities but also my family’s way of life. I’d been kept apprised of the situation even while behind bars, but there’d been no overtures made by anyone in our family. They’d been too concerned my life would be threatened.

And it had been more than once.

Various enemies had managed to take advantages given our family’s tainted reputation. That would never happen again, retaliation necessary. However, to my knowledge, the Azzurris had remained under the radar.

He sighed then slid the file across the seat, appearing more uncomfortable than before. I pulled it into my hands, fingering the edge before turning the flap, a glossy photograph positioned on top. The picture was a surprise, the face peering back at me completely unexpected.

“You are well aware of what’s at stake, Dimitri. No one will ever attempt to destroy my family again. No one. This is just the start.” As I stared at the photograph Dimitri had captured, I was thrown, a rapid fire of electricity shooting through my veins. Every nerve stood on end, my cock twitching, my balls tightening. Surprised at my body’s reaction, I took another gulp of scotch as I traced my finger across the witness’s face.

For a few seconds, I was shoved into a vacuum, the face appearing far too angelic and surreal. How the hell was this even possible? The find didn’t smell right.

Hunger reared its ugly head, the kind of blatant and sadistic desire that tossed my mind into the vilest places. I took a deep breath as I read over the limited information, finally smiling as various delicious but filthy thoughts filtered into my mind.

Yes, the discovery of the mystery witness changed my course of plans. Perhaps I would enjoy this even more.

While my mother would voice the phrase, ‘vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,’ I would have my revenge in every manner that I desired.

After closing the file, I took a deep breath. “A change in the schedule for tonight, Dimitri.” As I thought about what I was about to do, my cock stirred for the first time in months, desire racing into every cell.

The darkness swelling within me refused to be denied.

I was in the mood to go hunting.

Soon the beautiful witness would learn that every action had a consequence, especially when crossing a member of the King family.

I would capture her.

Keep her.

Punish her.

Use her.

Then break her.

And that was just the beginning.

Chapter Two


“Innocence is the weakest defense. Innocence has a single voice that can only say over and over again, I didn’t do it. Guilt has a thousand voices, all of them lies.”

Leonard F. Peltier

Exhaustion settled into every muscle, hovering over me like a thick blanket. I could still hear the rumble of thunder as a backdrop of the torrent of rain pummeling against the roof.

I shivered as I stepped into the shower, wishing the blaring television had the ability to drown out the noise. I’d grown to loathe storms, especially when they happened at night.

I closed the shower curtain, leaning against the tile as the stream of hot water cascaded over my aching body. It had been one hell of a week, the sixty-plus hours feeling more like a hundred. Shuddering, I remained chilled to the bone even though the stickiness of the recent heatwave challenged the aging air-conditioning unit. Thank God I had the weekend off, in which I planned doing nothing more than hunkering down on the couch, watching every rom-com in my movie collection.

And maybe indulging in copious amounts of wine.

A ragged chuckle left my mouth as I reached for the soap. My bestie’s ugly words regarding getting a life remaining in my mind. While I knew she was right, I wasn’t into the bar scene or even catching dinner with friends, at least not like a woman of my age should be. I blamed it on my work schedule but deep down inside, I knew the truth.


When I heard the sound of my cellphone ringing, I groaned. If my boss was asking me to work tomorrow, I was determined to tell him no.

Like you’ve done the dozen times before?

I yanked the scrubby ball from the hook, squeezing a huge amount of soap onto the netting. After a few seconds, the phone stopped ringing. Whoever was on the other end could leave me a message. Maybe I’d turn the phone off for the entire two days. Finally, a smile crossed my face.

I tried to hum, jumping when I heard another boom of thunder. Jesus.

“Goddamn it.” The phone was ringing again. What the hell? It had to be Friday night telemarketers.

When the second call turned into a third, I’d had enough, prepared to say a few nasty words to whoever was on the other end of the line. I yanked a towel from the bar, leaving the water running then yanking the phone from the counter.



My bestie was going to nag me about going out. Again. “Stop it. I can’t go out tonight. Okay? I’m too tired.”

“No. That’s not it,” Julia huffed, her voice shaking. “Didn’t the prosecuting attorney call you?”

“No. Why? What’s wrong?” I struggled to secure the towel around my body as I juggled with the phone.

“You gotta… Fuck. Fuck! Do you have your television on?”

“Yeah, but only in the background. Why?” I’d never heard her this way.

“I’m sorry, Em, I really am. Oh, God.”

The tone in her voice was enough to fill my stomach with butterflies. “What are you talking about?”

“Go look at your television. Just go. Now.”

I hesitated before turning off the water and walking into my darkened bedroom. As I stared at the screen, the horror of what was unfolding sent a wave of terror skating down my spine.

“I need to go,” I managed, my body swaying.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to come over?”

“Na… No,” I whispered. “I’ll call you later.” I ended the call and almost dropped the phone before I was able to slide it onto my dresser. My vision was foggy, my heart racing. How could this kind of thing happen?

Danger. Danger. Danger.

“No.” It wasn’t possible. There had to be a mistake. He was supposed to remain behind bars for at least ten years. Ten.

“This just into the newsroom. Cristiano King, son of the notorious mob boss, Sylvester King, has been released from the Louisiana State Penitentiary where he was serving a ten-year term for second degree murder and extortion. While the information is yet to be confirmed, our sources indicate his early release was due to mistakes made by the prosecution. While there is some question as to whether he will be retried, that will depend on the original judge in the case.”

As a photograph of Cristiano flashed across the screen, my heart rose into my throat. Everything about the man terrified me. His angular jaw. His powerful stance. The way he commanded a room when he entered. The gruffness of his seductive voice, the tone leaving me wet and hot all over. Even though I’d been lucky enough to testify behind a screen, his deep baritone had remained with me long after the trial.

But mostly his dark, cold stare, as if the man had no soul, was something I’d never forget. His gaze had penetrated my dreams almost every night.

His eyes were so deep blue that even from the picture, I could swear he was staring right through the screen, a predator hungry to feast on his prey.

The monster had been freed. Free to walk the streets. Free to return to his normal life. Free to put the past behind him.

And I’d live in the nightmare all over again.


Another rumble of thunder only added to the jitters, goosebumps trickling over every inch of skin.


When the television shut off, I yelped, backing away from the screen.

“Hello, Emily.” This time his voice was nothing more than a dark growl.

One of hunger.

One of rage.

And one of possession.


“What… How did you…” Unable to finish the sentence, I swallowed hard, trying to think about an escape route. I dared to look in his direction; the bathroom light created a slight glow over him. He’d reclined in the tattered chair I’d purchased from a thrift shop, the remote in his hand, but I could swear I was able to notice a glint of steel from a weapon. I was able to see the curve of his angular jaw, his voluptuous lips and his long fingers. He was gorgeous, dangerous, and the single man I feared.

“If you’re asking how I found out who you are, I assure you that there isn’t a form of law enforcement that can keep me from learning what I want to know.”

I folded my arms across my chest, shivering, the realization that even if I screamed, no one would be able to hear me creating a rapid wave of terror.

Leaning forward, he placed the remote on the bedside table before rising to his feet, his actions forcing a whimper to escape my mouth.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Emily, but you already know that, don’t you?” He crossed the room within seconds, gripping both my wrists and dragging me against the heat of his body. He was so strong and much taller than I’d envisioned, his chiseled cheekbones and high forehead only adding to his dangerous appearance.

“No. No! Let go of me.”

“Hmmm… Not until I’m finished with you. What you might not have realized, sweet, precious Emily, is that no one crosses either myself or my family without paying a significant price.”

The man was going to kill me for testifying against him. I’d been the reason he’d gone to prison. Neither his parade of expensive attorneys nor the threats he’d likely used against other witnesses had saved him from the prosecution’s best weapon. Me. The sole witness. The single person who’d given details regarding the vicious crime I’d seen, the wretched violence and blood remaining permanent images in the back of my mind.


The girl who’d been promised anonymity for the rest of her life.


The woman who’d fought against the devil and lost.

Now he was going to make me pay.

Inhaling, he tilted his head back and forth, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. My God, the scent of him reeked of exotic spices and cedar wood, the fragrance entirely too intoxicating. I was thrown by the haze forming around my eyes as I was forced to stare into his. The same frigid cold, soulless cavern peered back at me but this time, his gaze was filled with something else.

Burning desire.

“Your penance begins now.” Ripping my arms over my head, he positioned a single hand around both wrists before jerking the towel away.

I’d never felt so vulnerable, scared to death about what he was going to do. When he backed toward the bed, easing down and yanking me over his lap, my mind began to shut down. I was lost to the fear, my heart hammering to the point the thudding sounds echoed in my ears. Was he going to… no. No! I had to fight him. I refused to become another victim.

The second I began to struggle in his hold, he brought his hand down against my bottom with enough ferocity I was stunned. Pain skittered down the insides of my legs, creating a wave of nausea. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be possible.

Cristiano smashed his hand down again, delivering several brutal smacks in a row. My stomach twisted and I managed to pitch my body forward and backward, realizing in horror that his cock was hard as a rock. He was enjoying this. When I was almost able to roll my hips off his lap, he released my wrists, fisting my hair instead.

“That’s not very nice, Emily. I don’t think you want to cross me any further.”

I hated the way he said my name, the syllables far too seductive. He was spanking me. I was in some kind of shock, my tone turning into pleading. “Please, just let me go.”

He laughed, the sound subtle yet even more provocative. “That’s not going to happen.” He continued the spanking, bringing his hand down in rapid motions, moving from one side of my bottom to the other.

I bit back my whimpers, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of hearing me cry. The anguish was excruciating, and stars floated in front of my eyes, tears of frustration and fear not far behind. I’m going to die. The thought rolled through my mind as his actions became rougher, the sound of his palm striking against my ass cheeks floating into the room.

My imagination was getting the better of me, the graphic visions stealing my breath.

When he caressed my skin, rolling the tips of his fingers up and down my heated ass cheeks, I threw my arm behind me in some crazy attempt to stop him.

He wrenched it against my back, his fingers digging into my wrist.

“I can tell you’re going to need to be taught a much stricter lesson. All in good time.” He slid his fingers across my seared flesh then down the crack of my ass to my wetness.

“No!” I struggled as hard as I could, my actions only allowing me to grind against his legs and the bulge between them. My entire body ached, and I was shocked and humiliated that my nipples had hardened. Fuck. Fuck. I couldn’t be aroused.

As he dipped the tips of his fingers past my swollen folds, I let off a series of moans.

“You’re very wet, sweet Emily.”

“Fuck you.”

The spanking began again in earnest, the strikes long and hard. My pulse in my throat, all I could do was close my eyes and pray this would be over soon.

Cristiano pushed his hand between my legs again, this time rolling a single finger around my clit several times before thrusting it into my pussy. “You will learn respect as well as absolute obedience. I won’t accept anything less. Do you understand me?”

“You’re insane. You’re just going to kill me. Just get it over with.”

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already. Death would be too easy for your betrayal.”

My betrayal? Was the bastard kidding? I’d done my civic duty, keeping a monster off the streets.

“You’re a horrible person.” Tears finally flowed, blurring my vision and stinging my cheeks.

“You’re right in that account, but from here on out, I’m your master, the man who will determine your fate. But only if you learn to be a very good little girl.” He thrust several of his fingers deep inside, flexing them open as he drove them in hard and deep. Every touch was invasive, deliberate. With every plunge of his fingers, he dragged me toward a climax.

My breathing stopped short, my mind refusing to accept what was happening to me.

I was incensed by his words as well as the way my body responded to him. That was the only betrayal. I was sopping wet, aching for him to continue touching me, furious that I couldn’t control my reactions.

The bastard released the same damn chuckle, dark and devious yet ripped with the most intensely sultry tone I’d ever heard. I’d been warned about him by the prosecuting attorney, the police, and my best friend. Hell, even my boss had told me the asshole was brutal, capable of killing anyone who got in his way. He certainly wouldn’t care about adding someone who’d sent him to prison to the list. I might as well go out fighting.

Bucking hard, I managed to dump myself off his lap, immediately scrambling on my hands and knees in the darkness, trying to reach the safety of the bathroom. I heard his deep sigh seconds before he yanked me by my hair, jerking me against his massive chest. He held me in place for a few seconds before dragging me back to the bed and shoving me onto my hands and knees.

I was out of breath, paralyzed with fear. There was no way I was getting away from him.

“You’re a little fighter. I’m going to break you of that, but first things first.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I barked, although I knew exactly what his nasty intentions were. I looked over my shoulder, watching as he took his time removing a weapon, placing his gun carefully on the chairside table. As soon as he took two steps away, I lunged forward, almost managing to wrap my hand around the gun.

His hand was around my throat before my fingers were able to touch the cold steel, digging in as he slowly pulled me backward. “That wasn’t a good idea, Emily.”

Barely able to breathe, I blinked furiously, shivering to my core. He was going to snap my neck. When I was back in position, he removed his hand, patting my bottom then yanking me until my feet were dangling off the bed.

“To answer your question, I’m going to fuck you, sweet Emily, which is exactly what you desire. Isn’t it?”

“No. Hell, no!” I clawed at the comforter, using all my strength to kick him, finally able to connect my foot against his stomach.

“That’s going to cost you.” He brought his hand down several times against my bottom, only adding fuel to my rage.

The pull on my hair was just as painful as the spanking. Within seconds, I was exhausted, panting, aching all over as a wave of electricity shot straight into my core. He stroked his fingers along the seam of my pussy, every move utter perfection, arousing me even more. The man knew exactly what he was doing to me. When he thrust them inside again, I realized I was bucking against his hand involuntarily, driving the long digits as deep inside as possible.

I was sick and embarrassed, horrified and breathless.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.” The guttural sounds from my throat were almost unrecognizable. This wasn’t me. This had to be a horrible nightmare.

But when I heard the sound of the bastard unzipping his expensive trousers, I sucked in and held my breath, another round of lights pulsing in front of my face.

“I can provide extreme anguish or exquisite ecstasy. The choice is entirely up to you. If you’re a good girl and obey me, you’ll get exactly what you crave. If you fight me on any level, then the punishment you receive is going to be something you remember for a very long time. Do I make myself clear?”

I couldn’t answer him. I had no words, no ability to make any additional sounds. I was lost in a surreal moment, wishing I’d never said a single word to the police, praying I could wake up on that dark and rainy night moments before I’d left the office in search of Italian food.

“Answer me, Emily,” he growled.

“Yes. I understand.” The perfunctory tone of my voice startled me.

“Good girl,” he said in a subdued voice, as if using the softer tone to try to comfort me, to sway me into thinking he wasn’t a monster.

But I knew better.

I’d heard all the stories about his family’s powerful hold on New Orleans, their wealth and influence just as dangerous as the weapons their soldiers wielded against their enemies. I knew what he was capable of, the horrors he’d inflicted. I also knew of his dark desires, a sadistic man refusing to take no for an answer.

He’d hunted his prey.

Now he was going to cage and use me for his personal pleasure.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

The moment I felt his cock slicing back and forth across my bruised bottom, I stiffened, fisting the covers.

“Relax, precious one. I’m giving you exactly what you need.” He purred the words, driving me into a state of desire unlike anything I’d ever known. I’d never been taken so forcefully, disciplined as if I was a bad little girl. The concept took my breath away, leaving me weak and anxious yet a sickening level of excitement continued to build. The scent of my arousal made me sick to my stomach.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. The words rolled in my mind over and over again, as if they had the ability to keep me sane.

He kicked my legs apart then pressed the tip of his cock against my slickened folds. “Relax and push back for me. Take my cock like a good little girl.”

Obey him. The thought was disgusting but the softness of his voice enveloped me like a blanket, soothing and enticing me into submitting. Maybe if I did, I could finally get away from him. Maybe.

No. No. No! He was never going to let me go.

As he pressed his cockhead past my swollen folds, my body acted entirely on its own, pushing against him. A warm, almost dizzying series of sensations washed over me, shooting straight into my aching pussy. Nothing was going to stop him from taking what he wanted.

He was huge, my muscles struggling to accept the thickness. I was stretched wide open, involuntary moans rushing up from my throat.

“Uh. Uh.” My pants were primal, my starved-for-attention body and mind yanking the brazen woman from the dark catacombs of my being.

He thrust the entire length inside, digging his fingers into my skin. His husky growls were cries of satisfaction, his breath just as ragged as mine. “You’re tight. So fucking tight.”

Every part of me was on fire, my hunger almost as desperate as his. I was crazed from what was happening, unable to process his actions.

Or my body’s intense explosion of sensations.

I could tell just how wet I was, my juice trickling down both legs. Horrified, I smacked at the bed, groaning like a crazed animal. When he pulled out, slamming into me again, I couldn’t fight the gasps coming from my throat.

“That’s it. Take all of me. Every fucking inch.” He pummeled into me, the force used rocking the bed. He kept his hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place, as if there was any possibility of escaping. I was his prisoner.

Time seemed to stand still as he fucked me, the monster growling as he ravaged my body. I did everything I could to shut down, but it was no use. Tingling all over, only seconds later, I could feel an orgasm threatening to make the final betrayal, taking me to a place of bliss.

I gasped for air, my moans scattered. And I lost it, the climax rushing up from my toes, slamming into my system with such ferocity I could no longer see.

“Oh. Oh. Oh!”

The same dark chuckle sounded behind me as he fucked me long and hard, filling me completely.

“Such a little tease,” he growled, finally releasing his hold on my hair, gripping my hips as he powered into me, yanking me back with every brutal stroke.

I dropped my head, my body nothing but a ragdoll as he thrust harder and faster. I wanted this over with. My muscles continued to clamp and release, another orgasm forcing me to throw my head back, the scream soundless, my body shaking violently.

“Fuck. Yes. Yes,” he roared.

As he erupted deep inside, filling me with his seed, another tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.

“Why? You really need to ask me?” He leaned over, curling his body around mine and whispering in my ear. “You fucked with the wrong man, Emily. You see, I take what I want. Now you belong to me.”

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