Page 48 of Blood Spilled
He shoves his pants down his hips and is bare underneath them. I lick my lips as I watch him crawl onto the bed, sticking his ass in the air while parting his legs.
He spreads his cheeks, revealing the same black plug I had shoved in there the first night I fucked him. He still has it, and once again he touches himself without permission. Maybe he just can't stop touching his hole. I wouldn't be able to either if I were there.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought and my dick grows harder against my jeans. Instead of taking it out, I adjust myself and lean in closer. I may need to get this boy a damn brief chastity belt instead of the pink cock cage I’d ordered recently. He rocks forward, sticking his ass further out and my red handprint is still there, leftover from last night.
I love seeing my markings on his body. I don’t want them to ever fade. He rocks back and forth, arching forward, causing an indent in his back. I want so badly to slide my hand down it. He presses a finger against the plug, pulling at the tail of the toy. He drags it out just to push it back in and I can see the ripples of his shuddering body from here.
He’s taunting me. He’s sending me a message and it says, “Come back for me, don’t take too long. The sooner you come to me, the sooner you can punish me for going against your rules.”
I lean back, nearly salivating and move the mouse to enlarge the screen when it goes black. I hit the power button and it doesn’t come on. When my gaze drops to the nearby outlet, it’s unplugged. But how? I’ve been here this whole time, and no one is in here, but me.
I sent most of my men home all except Diego, but he is outside guarding the crop. I’m about to turn around when a hood slips over my head and everything goes dark.
I wake up with my wrists tied. My legs can't spread apart, because they are also wrapped in what I assume is rope. Darkness still surrounds me from the hood with just a bit of light shining through the thin material. There are men talking with voices I don’t recognize, and their conversation has nothing to do with me. They're discussing what they had for lunch today, while they hold me captive in the backseat probably on the way to meet my death.
I wiggle around, trying to scoot toward the door. Before I can reach it, a gun is being pressed to my forehead. “Stay still, cabrõn. Don't be stupid.”
The vehicle stops and soon I am being dragged out of the back seat by my arm, nearly falling to the ground. “Move,” the man yells, pulling me harder toward his body.
“I can’t fucking see anything, and my legs are fucking tied,” I scream.
I feel the vibration of the knife cutting against the ropes and little by little I'm able to move my legs. I know kicking him right now isn’t a good idea so I refrain, but I won’t hold back for too long. I follow him blindly, until I'm tossed onto a wooden floor. My back hits a metal wall, causing a loud crashing sound. Two doors slam shut, and I hear a lock click. I’m inside of a fucking shed and it smells like blood, dirt, and mildew.
I kick my feet against the floor, screaming. “Fucking assholes, get back here.”
It does me no good and is a waste of my energy. They won’t tell me where I am no matter how much I beg and plead. I don’t need them to. I already know the answer. I'm in the back of Santiago’s house—or should I say my Uncle Bobby’s house.
Thirty-one
Santiago
I keep playing with the plug, so close to losing control and coming on the blankets. Instead I imagine Angel's deep, sensual voice saying, “Don't come yet, baby boy.”
It wasn't often he called me sweet names. It’s not something I need to always hear either. Except when I did, it did something to me on the inside, making my head hazy. My legs shake the more I touch myself and my body becomes overheated. Before my orgasm can actually come, I pull my hand away, clenching my teeth and holding back my erupting pleasure.
I go limp on the bed, panting and press my face into the soft comforter. I lay there until my heart rate regulates. When I get to my feet, I stare down at the camera wondering if he was still there, if he ever was. Maybe he will watch it later or maybe it's just there to make me think he will.
I smile, remembering the garters I’d sent one of the guards to pick up for me from a shop I always drove past, but was alwaystoo afraid to step foot in. They sit on my nightstand in a purple gift box, wrapped in white ribbon. It easily pulls loose around my fingers, and I toss the top to the ground, digging through the white tissue. The three black straps slide easily up each of my legs. They are soft against my skin, wrapping perfectly around my thighs and I secure them to my jock strap.
Someone bangs on my door and I almost fall back against the bed.
The loud pounding comes again, and I quickly gather my clothes from the floor and pull them on. As I button up my shirt, the door breaks open and Robert is standing in the doorway with anger heating his usual cold eyes. “Where is it?”
I widen my eyes and shake my head in confusion. “Where is what?”
“Oh, don't play stupid with me, you whore. Is that what you are now? His little whore?”
“Who? Why are you in my room and what the fuck do you want?”
He slaps me hard against the face and the pain nearly knocks the wind out of me, causing my legs to shake. “What the fuck! You’ll regret doing that, fucker!”
“Where is the camera, Santiago?”
“What camera? I have no fucking idea what you're going on about.”
“I think you do, cabrõn. I'm not as easily fooled as your mama. What did you say to her anyway? She's locked herself in her room and won't come out. I can only assume that's your doing.”
I smile, knowing my words got to her. “I have nothing to do with that crazy ass puta's actions. If you really want to know, leave me the hell alone and ask her your damn self.”
