Page 31 of Savage Kingdom
“Do you know more about Beto?”
She licked her lips. My cock twitched.
“He was part of the old Sinaloa cartel before they were betrayed. He stayed here with a few other ex-members—at least that’s what I gathered from listening to what Yoro and his men talked about.”
I took the information in, not saying a word, my mind going over all possible scenarios. When I was by her side of the bed, Daphne held her breath. It was small, barely there, but it was her tell she was preparing for the worst.
This was nothing. How I was treating her was fucking heaven, but if she betrayed the trust I so precariously gave her, hell would be tame to what I would do to her.
“Are you scared, Petal?” I mocked as I grabbed the chain that held her wrists together. She glared at me, and the sight of her gray eyes glowing with loathing was becoming addicting. Dare I say, it was more alluring than watching stars shine at night.
Instead of unchaining one of her wrists, I brought her arms up, resting just below the headboard, the chain right at the top. I grabbed a knife and stabbed it to the wood right between one of the holes of the chain, holding it in place.
Some would say playing on her fears was a low blow, but in this job, nothing was personal. She was just another sob story. More than half a million of people were trafficked a year; seventy percent were female, and about fifty were children. Almost always they forced them into sex slavery.
When I straddled her, the vein on her neck started to strum. She might be used to it, being taken against her will, but I bet it was a feeling that you never looked forward to.
“You lie to me, love, you won’t like what happens to you,” I warned.
“Are you going to punish me with your cock?” She raised an eyebrow defiantly.
My dick got hard—fast.
Couldn’t help it. My dick was a crowd-pleaser, and it wanted to pound into Daphne like there was no tomorrow. Make her choke on her words, have her pleas die in her throat while tears fell from those pretty eyes.
I ignored my dick, and she pretended like hardness wasn’t trying to poke through her stomach. I pulled my lock kit from my back pocket and uncuffed one of her arms, leaving the other arm raised. She wasn’t comfortable, but hey, at least she wasn’t getting raped.
“Eat up, buttercup,” I said as I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me, my head bent low, our breaths mixing. Her breathing was labored but stable. She was trying hard not to be rattled, but it was coming out forced. “When we fuck…” Her eyes grew wide at my statement. “You’re not going to only be willing, but you’re going to be the one—” I got so close to her lips she was frozen. Maybe in fear or shock. My lips touched her briefly. “—fucking me.”
“Get off me before I fucking kill you.” She seethed, and I smiled.
“If it’s death by pussy, Petal, count me in,” I mocked as I got off her.
* * *
The days passedin a blur despite being stuck in the penthouse babysitting. My intel came back. Daphne was a ghost. We couldn’t find anything on her, not a trace. I didn’t think she was a Russian spy. Something told me she wasn’t SVR—Yoro had a lot of pull, and the Russian government tended to leave him alone. I guess we wouldn’t be switching Interpol IDs anytime soon.
All the other information she gave me on Beto, the club, and cartel members all checked out. I mean, there was the possibility that she was just a pawn. Someone at the wrong place and time. First getting trafficked and now in my possession. Some people just had shitty luck.
I liked to think of myself as a humanitarian. I kept Daphne hydrated, fed her some food, and I sanitized her foot. That was just the kind of stand-up guy I was. I had just finished my workout when I made my way to her room.
Anything sex-related made Daphne uncomfortable, so naturally, I used it against her. I walked in the room with my shorts riding low on my hips, a hint of my happy trail peeking out. She would never admit it, but she loved me in all my sweaty after-workout glory. I could tell by the way her eyes would roam my body.
See, I was a nice guy coming to her right after my workout so her eyes could feast on the male specimen I was.
“Mornin’, Petal.”
She didn’t answer; she rarely did. I was sure what I told her about her fucking me messed with her head. This time I didn’t go for the bandages to change her wound. Instead, I went for the shower, turning the water on and adjusting it so it was lukewarm.
Daphne still had that cold, elusive look on her face. I grinned because what I was about to do was going to make her a spitfire. God, was she a beauty when she got pissed.
“Shower time, gorgeous,” I singsonged as I went to the side of the bed where her hand was cuffed.
“Tomorrow is Saturday. Why not then?”
This bitch. This was the first shower I was letting her have, and she wasn’t even complaining for the right reasons.
“Because we need to go out, and you need not look like a homeless porn star. Figured this way, I can test your leash.” I winked at her as I removed the cuffs for the first time in days.