Read Raw, A Dark Romance Online

Authors: Tawny Taylor

Raw, A Dark Romance (5 page)

“When I give you an order, you will obey.” He released me, and I crumbled to the floor, eyes tearing. I gasped and coughed and cried, thoughts and questions bouncing around in my head. There’d been a terrible, horrible mistake. Instead of being sent on a blind date, maybe for dinner or a yacht ride, I’d been sent to a sadistic monster who enjoyed torturing women for sport.

How had this happened? How would I survive five days of hell?

How would I survive one day?

You’ve done it before. You can do it again.

Minute by minute.
That was how a girl survived hell. And if that was too much to take, second by second.

My gaze met his again. This time, I saw the dark thrill swirling in his eyes. The monster loved the fight. It fed off my fury like a leech engorging itself on blood. My fear, my terror, my anger, that was what it thirsted for.

Focus. Think. You’ve got to keep your head until you can get in touch with Sid. She’ll help. Help is on the way.

Oh god, how would I do this? How? I didn’t know anything about being a bondage slave. I didn’t want to know anything about being a slave. Not now. Not ever.

But I did know about being afraid.

And I did know about pain.

I felt a tear burn down one of my cheeks.

Was this karma?

Be silent. Be obedient. Don’t fight. Don’t cry.
That was what she’d always told me. If only I’d been able to do that.

“On your feet,” he commanded.

Fighting the urge to vomit, I pushed to my feet. Thanks to the adrenaline raging through my system, my legs felt like overcooked noodles. I could barely stand. They felt like they would give out at any moment. And my stomach was convulsing, threatening to empty what little was in it. I secretly thanked God for the fact that I hadn’t eaten yet. The man glowering at me would probably be furious if I threw up all over him or his ugly bondage room. I didn’t want to find out how he might punish me. So I swallowed, over and over, forcing the bile back down.

“Undress,” he commanded.

Oh God, he was going to rape me.

My vow, to have no man touch me but my husband, was about to be broken. And not because of a choice I made.

This is bullshit! He has no right! It’s all I have to give. It’s all I have left.

A fresh blaze of fury swept through me.

His eyes narrowed. His jaw tensed.

The beast could sense my anger, even when I didn’t speak. Shit! What could I do?

If I was obedient and complied, I might not be choked or beat. But I would be raped.

Beaten? Raped? Which was worse?

Rape. Most definitely.

Was there any way to avoid both? My gaze jerked around the room.

Four walls. Solid walls. Big, heavy wooden furnishings. No windows. One door.

One locked door.

Fuck.

Even though I knew it was pointless, I broke into a sprint, dashing as fast as I could across the room.

He didn’t follow. No, he stood right where he was, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk curling his lips. This was fun for him. A fucking game for the beast lurking inside of that Hollywood-perfect body.

But if I stopped fighting, if I gave up, I would lose the only thing I had of value to anyone. The only thing that gave me some hope of marrying a man from the right side of the tracks. I knew a girl with no money didn’t have much hope of marrying a rich man if she wasn’t a virgin. Sid told me that. All the time. So had my mom, ages ago, before she’d died. And she would know. She’d married my dad. A girl from the wrong side of the tracks, marrying a man worth millions.

Fuckety-fuck.

I did a complete lap of the room before stopping by the door. “If you don’t let me go now, I’ll file kidnapping and rape charges,” I yelled.

“Rape?” His brows quirked. “Rape? I haven’t touched you. How will you claim I raped you?”

“You haven’t touched me
yet
. But you plan on it. Why else would you tell me to undress?”

“I told you to take off your clothes so I can see your body. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you.”

Did he really think I was that stupid? “Riiiight.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m growing impatient. Take off your clothes,” he demanded.

“No.”

“You saw me earlier, on the beach. You were watching me. You know what I’m capable of. You know I’m stronger and faster than you.” He took one step, two steps closer. “Do you really want to irritate me with your stubbornness?”

No, I didn’t want to irritate him. One look at his face and I knew I was in for trouble. But I still couldn’t give up. Too much was at stake for me.

I backed away from him, one step, two. “Please. I’m a virgin. And I need to stay that way. I have no money. I’m not educated. My parents are dead. My purity is the one thing, the only thing, I have to offer a husband. Please don’t take that away from me.”

Staring at me with obsidian eyes, cold and hard, he shook his head. “Your pleas land on deaf ears,
esclavo
. I could care less what you have to offer a husband. I only care that I’ve paid good money for you and I intend to get what I paid for.”

My head spun. I staggered back another step. “You paid money to fuck me?”

“I paid money to do whatever I like to you. For one week. And we’re wasting time.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. My head spun. Thoughts whipped through it, jumbled. “How much money? Maybe I can return your money?”

One brow quirked. “Do you have two million dollars, esclavo? You said you had nothing.”

I gasped. Then, because for some reason the oxygen I’d gulped didn’t make it to my lungs, I gasped a second time. “Two million? Two million U.S. dollars?” My legs wobbled. “Two million?”

“Two million.” Once again, he closed the distance between us. “So you see, esclavo, I will get whatever I want. I’ve paid a great price for the right.”

“But…but…I’m not for sale!”

“You were.” He prowled closer, evil smile in place, eyes glittering. “And I was the highest bidder.”

This couldn’t be happening. Had Sid’s boss sold me like a common whore? My stomach convulsed, and I fell to my knees. I heaved but nothing came up.

Something hard and tight clamped around my arm and within a split second I was pulled across the room. With every inch I was dragged my terror swelled. And so did my fury. I fought. I kicked. I writhed and screamed until I was breathless and heaving and trembling all over. Stopping in front of the big wooden X bolted to the back wall, he hauled me to my feet then jerked one of my arms up.

Oh God. If he tied me up I wouldn’t be able to fight. He would be able to do anything he wanted to me. Anything at all.

Sid was a zillion miles away.

And Tonya…? Where was she?

Shit, I was alone. There was no one here to help me. He could kill me.

I fought even harder. I fought with everything I had. My rage pummeled my system, and I used it to drive me to keep fighting, even when he had one wrist bound. I swung with the other one and kicked with both feet until he’d secured both wrists and ankles in cuffs.

I’d fought. I’d lost.

But I wasn’t giving up.

I was chained to a big x, my back facing my captor. But I was still a virgin. For now.

But for how much longer?

My muscles were so tense they cramped. My nerves were jangling so badly I shook from head to toe. My senses were hyper-alert. I heard him moving behind me. I felt the slightest gust of air when he came closer. His cologne filled my nostrils.

His heat burned my back, even though I was still wearing my clothes.

The hairs on my nape stood on end.

“I enjoy your fire,
esclavo. Now, let me see if you enjoy mine.”

What did that mean?

My insides twisted.

Heat gushed to my core.

What the fuck?

Shocked by my body’s reaction to the menace in his voice, I let my head fall forward until my forehead rested on the structure to which I was bound. “Go to hell.” Since when did the threat of rape turn me on? Since when did a bastard who didn’t give a fuck about me make me cream my panties?

I was sick. Sick!

I deserved to go to hell too.

Confused and disgusted with myself, I smacked my head against the wood and curled my fingers so tightly my fingernails dug into my palms. A sob ripped up my throat.

Behind me, he said, “Now, it is time to see what I have paid for.”

I felt a tug at the back of my shirt and then the sound of rending fabric echoed through the tense silence. My spine arched and I jerked in a desperate (but pointless) attempt at escape. A breeze chilled my back as the torn pieces of my sweater and tank top fell aside and my skin prickled with goose bumps. My bathing suit strap snapped and my breasts fell out of the cups. My nipples hardened almost instantly. And another blast of heat pulsed to my center.

I was fucked up.

“Stop it,” I yelled. “Stop it now.”

“Ah,
esclavo, keep screaming. Keep shouting. Your pretty little voice makes my cock hard.”

My skirt was next, cut, torn, I couldn’t tell which. The material slid down my right leg, catching on a cuff at my ankle. My bathing suit bottoms would be next. Oh God.

My pussy clenched. Hot, sticky cream coated my folds, dampening the lining.

He audibly inhaled. “I can smell your cream. Intoxicating.”

“Fuck you.”

“As you wish.”

I felt the tug at the waistband and panic gripped me. I writhed, fighting the chains holding my ankles and wrists in place. But there was no hope, no use. I was bound tight, unable to resist. Fingers slid down my lycra-covered crack. I trembled. Tears coursed down my cheeks, even as more heat pounded to my pussy. I was shocked and ashamed by my body’s response. I despised this man. I didn’t want him to touch me. Not my back. Not my ass. And…oh God…not
down there
.

“No,” I said on a whimper. “No, no, no.”

His fingers grazed over my sensitive flesh. No man had ever touched my pussy. It felt so good. Good but wrong. Wrong but thrilling.

“Please stop,” I begged.

“Do you know what the scent of your cream does to me? Esclavo, you are so wet. I want to cram my cock into that slick, tight heat and make you scream until you can’t scream anymore.” My thighs tensed. My feet slid wider apart, as far as the chains would allow, opening my center for his probing digits.

What the hell was I doing, welcoming his invasion?

My breathing quickened. My heartbeat thumped through my body, sending wave upon wave of lust burning through my core. My pussy was empty and clenching, so wet and hot I ached. Instinct told me to open wider, surrender to him, even as my brain told me to resist, to fight, to beg for mercy.

I couldn’t let him take what was mine.

But even as that thought blazed through my mind, I quivered with need. His fingers slipped into the leg of my bottoms, fingernails grazing my labia. My insides pulsed, and the air filled with the sweet scent of my need.

I was shameless. I was a whore. A whore who didn’t just want his touch to delve deeper, I
needed
his touch to delve deeper.

Closing my eyes, I waited, my breath in my throat. My blood was like lava, burning through my body. Every nerve in my skin was electrified. His touch awakened a part of myself I hadn’t realized existed. The feral self who didn’t give a damn about shoulds and should nots.

“This is mine. My cunt.” When his finger slipped between my nether lips, I whimpered. I quaked. I bit my lip and dug my fingernails into my palms. Deeper. I wanted his touch to go deeper. To thrust inside, stretch me wide.

Instead, it slid out.

“You surrender so quickly, esclavo. Where did that fire go?” He walked away, leaving me standing there, barely able to hold myself up. My legs were as soft as molten gelatin. Knees wobbly. Pulse pounding in my ears. Arms practically numb from lack of blood supply. And the evidence of my need dripping from my pussy.

Was he done?

The door’s hinges creaked. His footsteps echoed. He was out in the hallway.

I pulled in a deep breath. Was I safe? Where was he going? How long would he be gone?

For now my virginity was still intact. But my pride…that was long gone. With just a few strokes he’d tamed me. I’d gone from kicking and screaming to protect myself to spreading my legs and practically begging him to take me.

And this was just the first day. The first hour of the first day.

If he kept to his word (and that was a big if, in my book), and would release me at the end of the week, there were still many hours of this torture ahead of me yet.

How would I survive?

 

 

 

 

What was this feeling? This nagging curiosity. This frustrating desire to watch her? To touch her? This irritating need to…protect her? --Kace R.

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