Page 7 of Stolen
The first thing his hands went for was my hair. He gently rubbed the bright red strands between his thumb and fingers before placing them behind my shoulders with the rest of my tangled mane.
“Is this your natural hair color?” he asked me as he stood to my right.
“Does it matter?” I asked in annoyance.
“Wrong answer.”
I then felt his hand grip the roots of my hair and jerk my head back, sending jolts of pain through my scalp and causing my stomach to roil into more knots. My breath left my lungs as I resisted him, but his thundering voice made me want to abandon my resolve.
“Did we not just discuss my one and only rule?” he growled into my ear. I winced as he tightened his grip on my hair but kept my breathing even.
“Yes, it’s my natural hair color,” I bit out.
“Good girl,” he said and released my hair roughly.
At that moment, a thousand different attacks came to mind as I fantasized about killing him. Maybe taking his head and forcing it into my knee a hundred times until his nose caved into his brain. Or kicking him in the balls until they were nothing but broken stones on the floor, or striking him in the neck with a punch straight to his Adam’s apple, cutting off his air supply while I kicked his knee caps in. So many ideas that I wanted to turn into realities, but with my hands behind my back and three guards in the background, my chances of making those wishes come true were pretty slim.
“You have some ink,” he commented, bringing me back to my nightmare and tracing his thumb on the side of my rib cage. I had a breeze of black feathers with overlapping watercolors flowing from my rib cage and curving up to my back. It was my tattoo for myself, for my belief in being free to be yourself and to always find color in thedark. How ironic that was now. “And here.” He bent down, noticing the large navy-blue anchor on my left ankle. It was for my father, the anchor of my life before cancer finally took him from me four years ago.
The owner finally came full circle and stopped in front of me. “You have an amazing body,” he said to me. “One I can honestly respect and appreciate. I can tell you sport a lot of pride for your obvious hard work.”
I nodded. I worked my ass off for my physique. It might not help in the intimidation department, but it served me pretty damn well when it came to taking hits as well as returning them.
“But you really are a tiny little fuck, aren’t you?” He smirked, continuing his uncomfortable analysis of me.
My shoulders slumped a little at his acknowledgment, and my breath came out heavy in annoyance through my nose. I almost rolled my eyes at him, but I thought better of it. Hearing that from someone of his size made me feel even smaller, and I wanted to show him exactly how much size didn’t matter when it came to my abilities. He chuckled at my body’s response.
“This must be tough for someone like you to accept. You have the determination, that’s clear, but you lack the size to advocate it.”
“Size isn’t everything,” I said stubbornly, looking up into his eyes. No fear.
A cold smile formed across his lips as he stepped closer to me, forcing my toes to grip the floor to prevent my body from moving away.
“Keep thinking like that, little girl, and you’ll quickly discover all the ways size does matter. We could start with the size of your ego.”
I scoffed, undeterred. “You don’t know shit about me.”
When I felt the air suddenly shift around him, I regretted my decision to open my mouth, but it was too late. His hand quickly reached out and grabbed my jaw, tilting my head up to look at him. Instinctively, I tried to pull away, but he wasn’t giving me an inch to move. His stare penetrated me all over again and my gut wrenched inside as panic raced through me.
“Wrong again,” he drawled smoothly before bringing his lips to my ear. “I see right. Fucking. Through you.”
Chills erupted down my spine to settle in the pit of my stomach. Subtle or not, there was no ignoring the threat behind those dark words. Releasing my jaw, he grasped my shoulders and slowly progressed down my arms, feeling my skin and leaving behind annoying little goose bumps.
Moving with predator-like grace, he continued to circle me, running his fingertips lightly down the back of my shoulder. Never in my life had I administered such self-control to remain still and not flinch. No one touched me without my permission, and those who did were met with unkind reciprocation.
But something strange happened as his skin came into contact with mine. Just the simple feel of his fingers trailing down my bare back was enough to send my brain into a frenzy of emotions. Fear, rage, and uncertainty breached my mind until all I could focus on was this very moment—right here, right now.
The electric current passing through my body hummed something fierce…and I didn’t like it. He continued to trace his fingers across my ribs and over my abdomen, a slight smirk in the corner of his lips. Just when I finally considered breaking his fingers in half, they lightly skimmed over my freshly waxed pussy.
“You keep it trimmed,” he commented. “I like that.”
It was bikini season. Of course, I kept it trimmed.
Finally releasing me, he took a few steps back, thankfully severing whatever electrical wires connected us. But that didn’t stop his eyes from continuing their observation until a big evil grin appeared on his lips.
“How much you guys think she weighs?” he asked the guards behind him, cocking his head to the side. I narrowed my eyes in confusion. What an odd question.
Just as they all started to laugh, I saw it coming before I could properly react, barely able to take one small step back before the owner swiftly turned his body and threw a reverse sidekick right into my chest. The impact of his kick sent me crashing several feet away, falling back against the wall until I collapsed on the floor.