Page 64 of Neverland

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Dominic Salvatore had finally lost control.

For days, I laid naked cuffed to the bed. For days, Dominic paced back and forth contemplating everything he wanted to do to me. For days, he considered whether me becoming a used toy would be a suitable punishment. After he shot my father through the head, he’d dragged me by the hair back to his apartment, shoved me face down on the mattress and violently tore off my clothes. With his cock tenting his pants, he stood back, rolled up his sleeves and waited for me to attempt escape. This had him excited, relishing the chase.

When I scrambled to put the bed between us, he’d grabbed my ankles and dragged me back. Each time, he’d follow it with a sharp backhand across the cheek. When I gouged four fingernails along his neck leaving behind streaks of blood and torn skin, Dominic threw his head back and laughed maniacally, like the pain I caused him only turned him on and fuelled his desire and hatred. He was a madman on a path to destruction. He played with me as a cat does with its prey, slowly breaking down my resolve. He made his harassment look effortless.

Some toys are meant to be played with. To be used and abused.

His actions reminded me of his warning only days ago. If he finally decided to take me, what would be my fate then? And did I care?

Other toys are collector items. They’re never to be touched. Never to tarnish.

A dark war waged in Dominic’s soul. He struggled with the decision to tarnish something he held so dear, and kept me on a knife’s edge wondering if and when he was going to attack. Dominic never once left the apartment, and only when needed did he leave the room he kept me captive in.

With a bottle of whiskey and glass in hand, Dominic stationed himself in the corner armchair, shrouded in shadows, sipping at his liquor. He remained deathly silent, watching my bare chest rise and fall. Watching my pull at the restraints. Smiling when he spread my legs open and roped them to the bed. He got off knowing I was dying on the inside. Ignoring my pleas and cries for mercy, they fell on deaf ears.

Only when I changed tack and cajoled him, did he seem remotely interested in my words. Still, he remained silent, watching, drinking, contemplating.

I’d hurt him.

Hurt him or hurt his ego, I didn’t know.

My privileges didn’t extend to food. And for that matter, Dominic didn’t eat either. Instead, the dark space he fell into was fueled only by alcohol and his obsession for me.

His constant lurking presence kept me on edge. Every time I closed my eyes, giving into fatigue, I was abruptly awoken, my psyche screaming at me to stay awake. Finally, with having eaten nothing, or slept a wink in going on six days, sleep finally claimed me. Being deprived of something so necessary was the ultimate form of torture and that’s what Dominic depended on. He knew I always found the strength to fight him. He knew what I had been doing my whole life. This was his way of stripping me of that. And he won.

I woke with him on top, his whiskey breath breathing down my neck, his body encasing mine. Forgetting I was shackled, I jerked away only to have the cuffs cut into my skin.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, frightened. It was late at night, only a small dim lamp illuminating his face, accentuating his intimidating, dark features. Dominic was shirtless, his toned, tanned skin pressing against my naked body. His eyes were lost in desire, hooded and lustful.

“Do it,” I encouraged, utterly defeated.

His eyes smiled. “Do what?”

“Fuck me.”

Dominic licked his lips. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked, voice husky with desire.

I raised my hips to meet his hard cock and he hissed in response, eyes closing against the sensation.

“Lucy, you wouldn’t survive what I wanna do to you. I’ve had plenty of time to think of how I could destroy you. I have so many ways.” This time, he thrust between my legs, smiling at my gasp. “And each one leaves me rock hard, and each night I wonder if it will be the moment I bring you to your knees and watch you take your last breath.”

“Do it. I’m dead anyway. I feel nothing.”

He seemed intoxicated by my words. Intoxicated because while I gave my permission for him to destroy me, he could feel my pounding heart against his chest.

“You lie to me, Lucy.” He grazed his lips over mine, lingering and showing a restraint that wouldn’t last. “But, I’ve decided something.” He kissed me hard, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue finding mine. “I’ve decided there’s no point in owning something if I can’t enjoy it.” Dominic exhaled heavily. “And I want to enjoy everything your body has to offer. His hand snaked between my legs, his fingers sliding inside. “Every inch of you. Even if it means I lose you.”

A musical tune rang from Dominic’s pocket. He moved away, biting his lip in annoyance, his nostrils flaring. Pulling out his cell, he glanced at the screen and held my gaze while he answered. “Sol,” he greeted. Dominic listened intently, never breaking his hold. As the one-sided conversation continued, his eyes narrowed, jaw tightening. “We’ll be there,” was the only thing he said before ending the call. Repocketing his cell, Dominic gripped my face, fingers digging deep. I flinched, squirming in pain but he didn’t relent.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You survived another night, Lucy. Only just.”

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