Page 72 of Captivated By the Bratva

As he tackled me to the ground, fumbling to get his dick out of his pants and to yank my panties down from beneath my dirty, ripped dress, I fought and resisted with all my might.

He would not do this.

He would not get away with this.

I wasn’t going to be raped. Or violated. Or?—

He grunted, slamming me onto my back harder. With my hands tied behind me, I was stuck in an awkward pull of no mobility. Not being able to move my arms filled me with intense fury, but his forceful push down seemed to do the trick.

The ties snapped. One of them gave free with his rough shove onto the floor. All this time I’d tried to wiggle and wrestle out of the binding, I just couldn’t. Only now, when he slammed me down so he could straddle me easier, did something give.

A sharp point pressed on my skin hard enough to pierce it, and I faintly registered that something of a blade or spike served as acutting edge. I couldn’t focus on it, not when this Avilov soldier tried to stop me from kicking or kneeing him.

And it wasn’t enough. My hands weren’t free, not all the way. But they could be. If I found that sharp bit again, I could use it to sever the rest of the zip ties. Maybe it was an old staple from a lousy sanding and polishing job on the floor. Whatever it was, I’d use it.

“Stay still, little bitch,” he growled. “You let that Valkov fuck you, huh? Then I want a turn too.”

Maxim and this man would never be in the same category. Past the rage and desperation, I knew this. Deep down, I would cling to that fact. Maxim cared about me. He made love with me, and I was convinced that he had to be out there, frantic to find me so we could start the rest of our lives together.

But I wasn’t so naïve not to realize that things weren’t looking good. I couldn’t throw this man off me. His dick, already hard and dripping precum on my legs, was too damn close.

My panties were down on one ankle. He strapped his thigh over mine, worsening the ache from that kick.

Yet, I resisted. Heaving for air, screaming behind my gag, I struggled to stop him from touching me there.

And somehow, I was saved.

The door swung open, and Erik scowled at his friend on top of me. He strode in, not hesitating to backhand the man and send him crawling back.

I breathed hard, seeing black dots in my peripheral vision. I feared I’d pass out from the lack of oxygen, but I couldn’t calm down. I couldn’t slow my racing heart. Volleying my starebetween the man who’d tried to rape me and the man who’d sent him back up, I didn’t know whom to fear more.

Was Erik here to get first dibs? Or was he pissed that his man was acting out of line?

If he intended to kill me, I doubted he would be concerned about what happened to me in the interim.

“Freddy ran his fucking mouth,” Erik said. He scowled at the other man as he tucked himself back into his pants and stood, shooting me a nasty glare.

“What?”

“Freddy.” Erik shook his head.

“What about him? We just ate in here with him.”

“He was talking about what you and I discussed with him. How we’d kill him and the bitch and take over. How we’d let Kastava do whatever the fuck he wanted with Dmitri Valkov.”

“Shit.” The tall man dragged his hair back. “Who heard him talking?”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “Thomas, who happened to be on the phone with my fucking uncle at the time.”

The tall man swore, pacing away from me. “What does this mean now?”

“It means I just took care of Freddy,” Erik retorted. “And now we need to be more careful. I just got off the phone with my uncle. Again.”

“Did you convince him Freddy was making that shit up or something?”

Erik nodded. “But he’s cautious now. He wants this bitch brought to him. Now.” His finger lowered and aimed at me.

“He kept going on and on about how pissed he is that Maxim’s been with her for days. He’s hellbent on breeding her, and he needs to ‘purge’ her of another’s cum.”

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