XI
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“P–please. . . I'm s–s–sorry. . . I–it hurts,” the brunette whimpered as hot tears chased each other down her face profusely but he didn't stop, his movements didn't waver one bit. He didn't care. He didn't want to care.
“I–I'm r–really so—”
“Shut the fuck up!” his stentorian voice thundered round the dark room, bouncing off the walls, leaving her to only let out whimpers of agony as her face grew paler with each of his merciless pounding movements inside her.
The agonising images passed through his subconscious, teasing him with their pernicious contents. He remembered everything.
He remembered how he had watched her strut into the club with her majestic yet refined gait which exuded confidence. He remembered how he had successfully yet painfully inhibited his strong urge to gouge out the eyes of the men that dared to let their gazes linger on his gemstone.
He remembered the ephemeral expression on her face that had been akin to anxiety as she walked to her table. He remembered how her tight-lipped smile had morphed into genuine hearts–stopping one when she finally saw who he had assumed to be her friends.
He remembered the grimace that had taken momentary control over her face as she sipped her drink, causing her friends to laugh at her reaction. He remembered how she had declined going to the dance floor with them, how she had massaged her temples, showing signs of palpable discomfort. At that moment, he had distinctly decided to approach her.
He couldn't take the stares the perverted men at the club had subjected his vixen to and if it had been up to him, that would have been the last thing those men would've ever gazed upon.
He had guzzled the remaining content his glass held and had proceeded to stand to his feet when he noticed a figure — precisely a male figure — approach his walking sex magnet.
His eyebrows had been so tautly furrowed that they had looked like they could've fallen right off his face. He watched as she groggily looked up at the figure, who was grinning broadly at her.
Seeming to have gone rigid with the anger that had circulated round his entire body, he took in the afflicting scene which played out before his eyes. He could feel his heartbeat speed up with pulsating pent up fury as he recalled every single thing that had happened.
As the glimpse of a memory threatened to flicker across his mind, he hurriedly pushed it back. He couldn't lose control. He couldn't. He was trying so fucking hard to regain the bridle he had lost on his rage which was threatening to break free but tonight, it appeared that he was way out of his element.
Tonight, his never froward body, mind and actions had been rendered ungovernable just at the thought of that siren. The recalcitrant memory finally slipped through the claws of restraint and appeared right before his eyes, making him see nothing . . .nothing but red.
Resultantly, his left hand moved from where he had been holding himself up on the wall to his unfortunate victim's dark brown, almost black hair, taking huge fists of it, causing her head to jerk back over her abnormally arched back; whimpers of anguish escaping through her thinned lips, as though the pain of the anal creampie he had subjected her to was not enough.
The brunette beneath him bit harshly on her bottom lip, just hard enough to draw blood as she tried to muffle her screams, feeling the consequential effect of her earlier action spread from the source — a busted lip — to the rest of her mouth and deep down to her core.
It wasn't supposed to hurt that much but the unwanted torment that was already being inflicted on her by this devilishly unforgiving hunk of beast was too much to bear.
She had herself to blame. It was as though all the good luck and eupeptic chi she had woken up with had been sucked out of her, leaving her bone dry with nothing but misery.
Her luck had begun running out when she had been stationed to man the bar in Leroy's stead. She had thought nothing of it and had actually considered it a part of her good fortune that she didn't have to strain her legs with having to deliver drinks to the patrons but she had had no teensy intuition that that had been the path to her adversity.
Furthermore, she had made the mistake of approaching the two handsome looking men seated alone at the bar; completely disregarding the harbinger that had been the rigid and tense stance of one of the two men.
She had seen his bunched shoulders and tightly fisted hands but she had thought nothing of it and had approached them, asking what they would like to have. The seated man — who she later discovered was the Keelan Mars — had then turned around quickly to shake his head vehemently as if passing her a warning but it had been too late when suddenly, the tauten man turned around.
Her eyes had widened in fear and realisation when she had met his wild and monstrously black eyes which held untamed rage begging to be released, to be freed from their hellbound immurement.
“It was J.K,” her entire system had screamed in terror before abandoning her, rendering her completely immobile.
His captivating gaze had held her in confinement but his eyes were glazed over. He was looking right into her eyes, leaving her soul bare to be devoured by him but he wasn't even seeing her.
Unknown to her, her face had been serving as a projector, showcasing the reiterative images of his gemstone being cuddled by another man. Her face had been replaying the facsimile of the scene where the unknown man had grabbed his sex goddess's face and had rubbed their noses together.
He had watched as her lips had spread into an even wider grin as the man kissed all over her face before settling a lingering kiss right on the tip of her nose.
The intense urge to break every bone in his body, to rip and grind every tendon and ligament of his into smithereens had slammed right into him and to prevent all hell from breaking loose, he had walked out of the club, heading up the stairs towards his isolated penthouse while dragging his victim of the night by her hair.
At that moment she had seen him take steps towards her, warning bells, alarms and gongs had been set off in her head, warning her to do just one thing — Run! But she couldn't. His eyes had chained her; they had held her in bondage.
Only when she had heard the distinct slam of a door, did her senses awaken, making her realise what was to come as her scalp shrieked painfully.
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Hearing the shower turn on moments after the slamming of what she assumed was the bathroom door, she let the burning tears of grief stream down her face as she felt her dam of restraint tumbling down in ruins.
Her body shook uncontrollably as the sobs she had been trying so damn hard to contain raked through her body. Her usually rosy face had gone sickeningly pale as though all traces of colour had evaporated from her soul.
She shivered as she held her legs tightly to her chest, propping up her chin with her knees as the tears ran endlessly down her cheeks and onto her legs, leaving behind an oddly ticking effect. The cold night breeze blew into the dark room through the Prussian blue, almost black curtains, which were slightly pulled open. The chilly and starless night made the already dark room appear even gloomier, giving it an eerily stygian aura.
She heard the shower go off and with dread gnawing at her insides, her eyes went wide with horror. She ought to have left the room, he wouldn't be pleased to see her still here. She had not an idea what he would again do to her and certainly, she didn't want to be around to find out.
With faltering determination and debilitated energy, she attempted to salvage the remains of her work uniform, which had been ripped apart in the hands of the beast that was about to come out of the sanctuary that currently shielded her from him.
As she struggled to crawl to her feet or at least make it safely to the door, the bathroom door suddenly burst open, revealing the devil himself.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear and in all his half naked, drool worthy glory, might I add!
The thoughts of escaping completely flew out the window as she shamelessly gawked at his sinisterly sculpted body. His bold tattoos were on maximum projection, all for her unworthy eyes to soak in.
She gulped, attempting to stifle the tightening knot that was starting to form in the depths of her stomach. She was a thousand and one percent sure that her panties were beginning to pool with immense wetness at the sight before her.
She couldn't believe that she could still have such shameless thoughts after what this beast had done to her. She couldn't believe that she could direly wish for him to take her again — rock hard and fast but right in her pussy this time around.
Completely submerged in her sensual thoughts on how he would most definitely make her squirm underneath him while squirting prodigious amounts of pussy juice, he suddenly turned towards her, his cold eyes going even colder and harder.
She shivered under his gaze as though they had thrown her all the way to the North Pole in only her panties and bra, her clothes mercilessly ripped apart.
“You're still here?” he asked in his sexily husky yet nipping voice; not only his eyes were cold. Her face fell as she stayed frozen in her position, kneeling on all fours — something akin to a doggy style pose.
Before she could open her mouth to reply, the door was pushed open and in walked a frantic and worried looking Keelan Mars.
Spotting his friend, Jordan, his tensed posture visibly relaxed as he shot his friend a harsh glare, earning himself nothing but a bleak expression. His gaze scanned the entire room before stopping on the pale looking brunette whose clothes were now more like rags.
Sighing in exhaustion, he walked over to the bed and grabbed the clean white comforter before walking to her. He crouched down beside her and wrapped the fabric around her, securing the material safely in her palms.
Passing her an apologetic and pitiful gaze, he again looked towards the door where a really huge and buff yet good looking man with swarthy skin stood, clad in a black business suit. They seemed to have a conversation with their eyes because the next thing she knew, two other men were walking into the room and helping her to her feet as Keelan stepped back.
In panic, she pushed back from the two men, causing her to stumble on her still wobbly and unstable feet. Shaking her head and hands vigorously, she asked with wide eyes,
“Where are you taking me? Are you going to kill me?” her voice trembled as her eyes silently pleaded for mercy.
“No, of course not,” Keelan once again stepped towards her, adjusting the comforter that had ridden down her shoulders due to her abrupt movement.
“I instructed them to take you to a hospital to get you checked up and don't worry about the bills,” he muttered softly but her eyes still held that doubt and fear in them.
“I'm really sorry about what you experienced tonight, Miss. You will be amply compensated for this. I give you my word,” she could see the sincerity in his eyes and she couldn't help but trust him, so in reply, she heaved a sigh, her shoulders sagging in approval.
“Make sure she's safe and comfortable,” he finally commanded as he watched Miles and Ambrose help out the frail looking woman that had fallen victim to Jordan's unpredictable mood swings.
Hell, he had more mood swings than an enceinte or PMSing woman!
“What is the matter again, J?” Keelan inquired as he watched his friend roam through the cloth racks in the moderate sized closet stocked with emergency clothes just in case he stayed the night at his club's penthouse or for situations like what had just occurred.
Keelan had been watching his friend but as usual, he had been carrying his signature stoic face, so out of boredom, he had played a bit with his phone, answering a few texts and emails but due to the noise, he had been too distracted to focus.
Consequently, he had let his eyes wander for a bit until they had stumbled upon a redhead who looked like she had no care in the world. She was alone on the dance floor with no partner whatsoever but seemingly zoning out the world, she hadn't seemed to care one bit and had even danced better than most people who were there with their friends or flings.
Keelan was impossibly drawn to the lively and playful aura surrounding her. From where he was seated, he couldn't have seen her eyes but he could've guessed that the same glint was reflecting in her eyes.
He didn't know how long he stared at the svelte yet perfectly curvy woman for. Her outfit — an ecru brown coloured jacket type gown, stopping something ways above her knees — had successfully accentuated her ravishing curves.
He had finally managed to take in his surroundings when he noticed two other people — a really beautiful and enchanting woman with rather more curvaceous features than the redhead and a blonde dude with good yet sinewy build — joining the redhead on the dance floor but his eyes had frantically skimmed through the people for his friend until after about half an hour.
He finally found him but it was too late, the damage had already been done. He could only be grateful for the fact that it hadn't escalated to the point where he would've met a pool of fresh blood on the tiled marble floor.
“What has got you in a sour mood tonight? I called you here to come chillax and not to do whatever it is you just did,” he was met with silence and the tattooed back of his friend.
He maintained a safe distance away from him to prepare himself just in case their conversation would proliferate into a tumultuous debacle. Jordan catching him off guard could turn out deadly.
“Dude, I'm talking to—”
“Skull,” Jordan finally spoke, turning around as he held the clean shirt half way up his arms. His neck turned towards the door, where his trusted man, Owen Skull stood, ready to heed to his boss's beck and call.
“Yes, boss?” Owen's gruff voice replied as he walked into the room to stand before Jordan.
“Get me all the information there is on Emerald Pearce. I want answers as soon as possible,” the slithering snake tattoo resting just at the nape of his neck glimmered in the moonlight shining through the windows before he wore his shirt, covering it up and leaving only his arm muscles and inklings on display.
“Yes sir,” Skull bowed as Jordan walked past him and out of the room, completely disregarding Keelan who only sighed annoyedly before slumping into the soft megawatt bed behind him, laying all sprawled out on top.
“Home,” Jordan commanded his driver as soon as he got into the car. His mind reeled in the events that had taken place tonight and he concluded with irrepressible tenacity that he would surely find out who this Emerald Pearce really was and the guy who was with her.
He would get to the bottom of it. . . No matter the cost.
