Page 35 of Come Fill Me

He glared at Liz’s father, furious the ploy hadn’t worked on the man. The wooden door and walls bore claw marks fromwhen Munez had tried to dig his way out. Bloodstains from his broken nails had left brown smears throughout the room. Shackles hung from the head and foot of the bed to keep the man from harming himself. Rather than using them, Willy had opted to pump drugs into Munez, putting him into a stupor.

The man lay on the mattress, hands folded over his torso, positioned as a corpse might be for a wake. In his late sixties, he was tall and thin with a shock of white hair that made his olive complexion seem darker in normal light. In here, his skin was a medium gray, the sickly color adding to the illusion that he was dead rather than unconscious.

Carreon bared his teeth at the intractable old fool, wondering what Liz would think if she saw her father now or the gouges he’d put in the walls.

She definitely wouldn’t like it. He recalled how she’d fought Zeke, her actions telling Carreon what he already knew. Because of her father, she belonged to him, always would. She was his property to do with as he pleased…just as soon as he had her back.

Her homecoming unfurled in his mind.

He saw himself bringing her to the foyer, the most public area of his stronghold. There, in full view of his remaining lieutenants, he bent her over one of the credenzas, ordering Liz to lift her ass. She clutched the lip of the furniture, staring at her reflection in the mirror, watching him push her skirt to her waist. He took his time lowering her thong, wanting her to appreciate what was about to happen, to anticipate his every move.

In the past, expectation had always made her wet and more submissive.

With the underwear at her ankles, he directed Liz to spread her legs, her ankles straining against the thong’s silk. Positioned at her side—so his men had an unrestricted view ofthe proceedings—Carreon ran his hands over her garters, the lacy tops of her stockings, the dimples above her ass, the furrow between her cheeks.

She gasped. He ordered her to silence.

Each touch, every moment spent preparing her for the inevitable heightened her arousal and apprehension. He knew she was wondering if tonight he’d deliver nothing more than pleasure. Or would there be pain first?

Making her wait for an answer, he separated her vaginal lips, his fingers circling her clit all while listening to the newest sounds she made. That of a helpless female ensnared by her master. Keeping her guessing as to his intent, he concentrated on her anus. His probing of the pink ring was delicate, almost playful. He gripped her cheeks, pulling them apart, inviting his men to regard her tightest opening, to touch it.

One after the other did, growing familiar with the most hidden part of her, adding to Liz’s subservience.

He asked, “Do you like that?”

She regarded his reflection in the mirror, her expression exposing her uncertainty. Should she say yes, would that please him? Or would no be a better answer?

Her silence was always the best response. It proved her unease and vulnerability.

He murmured, “You’ve been bad.”

She dug her nails into the credenza’s wood, a clear sign she knew what was coming.

How satisfying it was to play with her trust, letting Liz know that whatever happened tonight, it would be his decision to make, hers to endure.

Her skin grew increasingly moist with perspiration. Her breathing accelerated.

“You need to be punished,” he said. “Tell me you do. Beg for it.”

She seemed unable to speak.

He pressed his fingers into her ass, demanding an answer.

Head bowed, she whispered, “Yes…please.”

It was a game they played, the words always the same, with Liz feeding Carreon’s need for dominance and her desire for obedience. He demonstrated it as he whipped her, the pain of each blow registering on her face, her mouth hanging open, her chest rising and falling as she gulped air at the resultant stings.

Only when his arm ached did he stop, mounting her in front of his lieutenants, taking her vaginally then anally before turning her over to them. Ordering her to submit, to offer each of her openings to the men until they tired of the acts.

Carreon’s cock thickened with his fantasy. His balls were so sensitive he didn’t risk shifting his weight, not wanting his clothing to brush against his sac. It had been too long since he’d taken Liz. Never again would he allow her to deny him as she had these past months. Never again would he let her leave his sight. She was too valuable to his operation.

Already, he’d lost ten of his men with more to follow because Liz wasn’t here to heal them. Those who weren’t yet dead remained where Zeke’s people had attacked them, lying in their own blood as they waited for a healer.

“Wake up,” Carreon growled at her father, kicking the mattress.

The older man’s body jerked with the assault. His lids parted to mere slits then slid back down.

With no more tolerance, Carreon grabbed Munez’s shoulders, shaking him as he would a disobedient child. The elderly man’s head flopped from side to side, the effects of the drug keeping him from responding.

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