Nearly Broken (34 page)

“What?” I
cried sharply. Hell to the no!

He waved the remote in
the air, reminding me of what he could do if I backed out of our
agreement. “She’ll do all the work but you’re the
one I want to see.” Coldly, he added, “Now climb on or
I’ll zap her until she’s fucking comatose.”

My mouth fell open and
my body froze in shock. I couldn’t move. What he wanted
absolutely horrified me. And unfortunately, I was close enough that
all he had to do was snatch my wrist and yank me towards him. Next
thing I knew I was forced to straddle him, my wrists kept prisoner
within his hands as their movement began around me.

Damn tears
.
Everything about this place, this man, made me cry. I wanted to kill
him for this. For humiliating me in a way no other had ever done. His
hands slid up my slip and dug roughly into my hips, forcing me to
move in sync with Veronica. He may not have been penetrating me, but
he was screwing me with those hazel eyes.
I
was the one he was
trying to ram harder and harder against his body.

I had to close my
eyes. I wanted nothing more than to shut out the world and think of
Nick, but there was no way to escape the sounds and movements around
me. The jerk had put me smack dab in the middle of their orgasm!

When they came, he
shooed Veronica out of the room but refused to let me out of his
grasp. He pulled me down, holding me flush against his chest, his
hands stroking my back roughly through the satin. He felt up my hips
and cupped my ass, still trying to rock my body against his, and I
immediately felt him stiffen between my legs. Denied panties since
the moment I woke up here, panic overtook me, and I tried to wiggle
off him, inadvertently rubbing myself against him even more.

“Anything I can
do for you, love?” he teased. He knew I was trying to break
free, but enjoyed the way my struggle rubbed his cock along the very
entrance I was trying to avoid.

“Let me up,”
I grunted, struggling against him.

“Don’t act
like you didn’t enjoy it.” One arm wrapped tightly around
my waist, keeping me grounded, as the other roughly squeezed my ass.

“There’s
no act.” I pushed up against my knees with all my might, but
all I got in return was his amusement.

He rolled us so fast I
couldn’t find my bearings, and I ended up flat on my back with
his weight pinning me down, his fingers pushing deep inside me. When
my legs kicked wildly, he prodded even farther. I gasped, screamed,
and probably even cried. I was helpless, trapped. There was no way I
could stop anything he wanted to do to me right now.

“Oh, yeah? Then
why are you soppin’ wet? You think I didn’t notice you
dripping all over my stomach? I had to hold you down just to keep you
from sliding off.”

He was rubbing inside
me now. “Get off,” I sobbed, my lower body trying to
thrust and twist under his weight, trying to squirm away from his
hand, but it was impossible.

“Really? Is that
all you’ve got? Because I don’t think you mean it.”
He propelled in and out and my muscles spasmed around his fingers.

“You said you
wouldn’t rape me!” I screamed awkwardly, hoping the
reminder would get him to pause, but he was still playing between my
legs.

“Yes. And by
that, I meant I won’t shove my dick inside you. Hands, however,
are fair game. My house, my rules.”

I had so many emotions
and feelings going on inside me, that I didn’t know what to
think or say. What could I do? He was bigger, stronger, and got more
aggressive the longer I fought. Tears dripped from the corners of my
eyes as I ran out of steam, finally lying there whimpering, no choice
but to let my body rock within his grasp.

“It’s okay
to want it,” he tried to soothe, his voice so smooth it
sickened me. “I mean, seriously.” He pulled his fingers
out and showed me the glossy liquid coating them. “Your body is
screaming for it.”

My hands went to cover
my eyes, to block the horrible scene happening between my legs. “Oh,
don’t hide, love. I like seeing your face.” When I
refused to obey, his hand pulled away momentarily and I heard that
awful clicking noise again. And I knew that in any second, my arms
would be forced away from my face. I only cried harder when they were
extended behind my head, completely useless to me now. He pulled on
my legs to stretch me out, eliminating my ability to fight against
him, then forced his way between my shaking legs. I let out a
blood-curdling scream the first time he licked me, pinning my legs
apart with so much strength, my thrusting did nothing to move me even
an inch.

I tried to go numb, to
tell myself over and over again that it was just my body, that he
wasn’t getting any part of me that truly mattered. Not my mind,
my heart or my soul. Those all belonged to Nick. What
he
was
doing to the shell that housed all of those things meant nothing. It
was just a body.
Just a body.

But it was a hard
sell.

He watched me intently
as his tongue and hand violated me over and over again, tears
drowning my face, my body so conflicted as my mind, heart and soul
vehemently objected, but my outer shell throbbed and got off until I
came on him. When he released me, I curled into a ball and completely
broke down, the pain from my reddened wrists not enough to distract
to me from the endless throbbing down below.

He slackened my chains
and abandoned me on the rug to cry it out. Sometime later, I heard
Veronica’s footsteps padding across the carpeted floor. I
actually had to pry my eyes open, because the number of salty tears I
shed had completely encapsulated them. She curled into me on the rug
and closed her eyes to fall asleep.

A fire still raged
inside me. I was so angry. I’d gone out of my way to save her,
to keep him from hurting her, and my compassion got me violated in
return.
I
was the one being damaged. She got to live in
freaking zombieland, forgetting the bad as soon as it happened to
her, while my sound mind was left to suffer, the images continually
flashing before my eyes, haunting me. I could still see him towering
over me, watching my every reaction, getting off on making me squirm
despite my disgust. I could still
feel
him inside me, making
my insides twist in ways that made me want to retch, a desperate plea
to expunge him from my body.

And she freaking laid
there without a care in the world, having the nerve to inch closer,
seeking the comfort of my touch, possibly even my protection.

“Get away from
me,” I muttered angrily, my voice raspy. She didn’t,
unaffected by my command. My head pounded, pain radiating out from
behind my eyes, and I still throbbed between my legs. I pushed her,
commanding her again, but she simply rolled back.

“What the hell
is wrong with you? I said get off!” I was screaming now,
sitting up and pushing against her. She was finally getting the
picture and fearfully crawled backwards before running out of the
room. I fell over my knees, burying my forehead in the blanket of
fur, crying all over again. I had cried way too much in this house,
so much it was as natural as breathing now.

I could hear his
footsteps long before he entered the room, pounding and echoing
against the floor, quick and heavy, determined. His path deadlocked
on my spot, I scampered until I ran out of slack. He roughly grabbed
my throat and yanked me to my feet, so high my toes could barely
scratch the floor. For that split second, when I took in the rage on
his face, I understood the meaning of pure terror. My heart stopped
as my entire body froze, even the air within my lungs too afraid to
escape.

His voice deep and
dark, he slowly asked, “Did you hit her?”

“No,” I
squeaked, his hands tightening more around my throat, so hard it
minimized my air flow.

“If you’re
lying, I’ll only hit you harder.”

“I didn’t,”
I whispered painfully.

He dropped me like a
sack of potatoes and headed to the armoire. I bent over and heaved,
trying to catch my breath. Inside, a collage of small TVs cycled
pictures and he typed something on his keypad to get the feed for
this room to rewind and replay. I heard myself yelling, the struggle
as we scuffled along the floor and then her feet thumping out of the
room. Then he closed the armoire and crouched before me. He grabbed
for my chin, but this time with a gentler hand, lifting it to inspect
my neck. I doubted he was capable of sorrow, but the way he looked at
me made me think he regretted being so rough. He twisted my head in
both directions, probably assessing the redness he surely made on my
skin. Releasing me, my head fell downward and he sighed heavily.

“So what am I
supposed to do with you, huh? Keep you or sell you?” When I
didn’t answer, he added, “Just so you know, tomorrow I’m
holding an auction and I’m only going to keep one of you.”

My head jerked up, my
eyes widening before I could control my worry.

“I’d
rather have you, but you know the stipulations for being my house
guest. So you’d better figure out what you want quickly,
because at this moment, Veronica’s literally got the jump on
you.”

Night three sleeping on
the floor sucked worse than the first two. I had a hard time figuring
out if he spoke the truth about there being an auction today, or if
it was just another ploy to literally screw with me. I wanted to go
home. To Nick, because I refused to believe the worst possible
outcome of that night. Until proven otherwise, I would believe he was
safe, waiting for me to find my way back to him again. At least this
time I knew there were loved ones looking for me. And I think they
were the source of my courage these days.

I just wanted to be
home. And this was certainly no home. Even if I were able to have
free access like Veronica, I’d never be free to do anything, to
go anywhere, to be something other than a sex slave. I’d only
have the options he offered me, which always consisted of what he
wanted from me and something so cruel he knew I’d never choose
it. So he got what he wanted every time.

Trapped like a fucking
rat.

When he woke up I
tried not to move. He slept naked at night, and had no problem
meandering through the room before pulling on jeans and a t-shirt he
grabbed from the closet. Coming my way, he didn’t touch me or
even bend down to my level on the floor. He just simply asked if I
had had my epiphany yet. I sighed and tucked my head farther into my
body.

Bitterly, he snapped,
“Tick tock, Natalie. Only ten hours to choose.”

His steps were heavy
going out the door, my head vibrating with each pound. I pinched my
arm until it bruised. I’d click my feet in fucking red shoes if
I thought it would help. This couldn’t be my life! Nineteen and
already abused by two who thought they had the right to own me, to
use me for their pleasure, to lock me away as if I’d committed
some atrocity that earned me this death sentence.

Veronica came to feed
me cinnamon raisin oatmeal, but I wasn’t hungry. After she
refused to acknowledge my many refusals, I finally told her
he
said I didn’t have to eat if I didn’t want to. She seemed
completely unaffected by our altercation last night. I couldn’t
help but pity her – and envy her all at the same time, because
she was able to forget the horrors as soon as they happened. So maybe
she was the luckier of the two of us after all.

Several hours later,
he was back, looking none too happy with me. I wanted to panic and
skitter backwards, but there was really no point. I knew that now.

Ruffling a stack of
papers in his hand, he said with an annoyed tone, “Thought
you’d like to start sifting through your list of suitors for
tonight, maybe choose one in advance so I can tell him how much you
hope he wins the auction.” He held the first one out. From my
spot on the floor, I could see a picture of an older man, maybe in
his fifties, and a bunch of notes written off to the side. “Here.
This one’s fat and ugly.”

He threw it down and
it lay beside me. He was right. Fat and ugly.

“This one’s
fat and ugly, too. And I suspect Russian mafia. Good luck with that,”
he snapped maliciously. “Ah! This one’s actually young
and good-looking like me, but watch out because he’s hardcore
S&M. Fat and ugly. This one’s so fat he’ll probably
have a heart attack raping you, so I suggest you do whatever’s
necessary to be on top.” With pinched, angry eyes, he added,
“Wouldn’t want him to squish you to death in the
process.”

I had been snatching
all of the pictures as they fell, but I no longer cared. The pictures
alone were making me queasy, my mind disgusted with the thought of
any one of them touching me. But it was the next one who was the
worst of the bunch.

“This one’s
not fat or ugly, but he writes those torture porn movies, so I
suggest you don’t piss him off. Ever.”