Page 88 of Corrupted Kingdom

Pressure had already been building inside of me, and I felt my legs drop away as the most powerful orgasm I’d ever experienced rocked through my body. I opened my mouth, letting out a guttural moan as he held me up and stopped me from falling.

‘That was fuckin’ amazing,’ I heard him say, through the haze. I dropped my forehead onto the counter, utterly exhausted, my whole body still tingling with aftershocks. He continued to thrust behind me, and I heard an unmistakable groan, followed by his strong body curled around mine.

We both struggled to catch our breath.

‘That,’ I panted, ‘was fucking amazing.’

He pulled out of me and laughed, spinning me around so I was facing him.

‘What’s so funny?’ I asked, crossing my legs to stop his salty fluids from running down them and onto the floor.

He kissed my forehead, an oddly intimate thing for him to do. ‘You never used to say the word fuck so much,’ he said teasingly. ‘Look what I’ve done to you.’

I felt bold. ‘You never used to smile so much,’ I countered. ‘Look at what I’ve done to you.’

Dornan just shook his head and kept on smiling.

* * *

In the shower, after Dornan had bent me over the kitchen counter and fucked me senseless, he pressed the top of my arm until he found the small rod that was embedded just under the surface.

‘How long is this good for?’ he asked me, stroking my skin with his warm fingers as water and the scent of sandalwood surrounded us.

‘Two more years,’ I said, without thinking.

‘We’ll have to make sure we get you a new one then,’ he replied, moving it underneath my skin. ‘I think I’ve got enough kids, don’t you?’ He was teasing, but I froze as his words sank in.

Two years. I’d been in the apartment for mere weeks, and I couldn’t imagine two more years of this strange and terrifying existence. I had to get out. I was never getting out.

It was too much to bear. Instead, I focused on Dornan’s fingers as they travelled down my naked stomach and began to rub my sensitive nub again. It might have been devastating each time I let him touch me, but it was equally a welcome relief from the dark thoughts that plagued my mind. And the lighter ones, too. The ones that terrified me the most. When Dornan wasn’t there, I missed him. Longed for his touch. Craved his company. And for a girl who had watched her boyfriend bleed to death in front of her, it wasn’t acceptable to feel those things.

I tried to push down the feelings that blossomed inside me. I was determined not to let myself get sucked into the fantasy of having a man save me from his horrid father, from a life as a slave. But my heart had a life of its own, and it wandered happily even as I tried to rein it back.

He was all I had. Those five words played on a constant loop in my mind.

During the moments in between, I cried. A lot. No amount of concealer could cover up the suitcases that had taken up permanent residence underneath my eyes. In those still moments when I was alone, I often thought of my family. I thought of my little boy, even though the mere memory of him was enough to drive me to madness. How my arms ached to hold him in them. I recalled the crumpled photograph in Murphy’s pocket and felt sick that he held that piece of my soul with him.

The next morning, I woke up alone. Loneliness and melancholy spiked in my chest, and I wondered how I would get to the office. There was a keypad that I didn’t know the code to, and if there was a fire in the apartment I actually would be burned to death. Dornan almost never gave me notice of plans, he just randomly showed up. I let myself sleep in an extra five minutes before I took a shower and dressed in work clothes.

This time, I wore panties. Emilio wasn’t getting his dirty hands near my pussy again. I had a sudden violent daydream of murdering him with a stapler as I started the coffee machine in the kitchen.

The day before, I’d worked hard to clean up the books, and what I found was very dirty indeed. Someone had made a small fortune by siphoning funds from the burlesque club and several other businesses that were fronts for the Il Sangue Cartel and for the Gypsy Brothers. I was still a little confused about the dynamic between the two, to be honest. There was no clear line delineating where one finished and the other began. Although there was no denying that Emilio was in charge of everyone. Owned everyone, with secrets and lies and threats. It sickened me. How much power, how much money and dominance, did one man actually need? And when did that need become a greed that obliterated everything in its path?

I feared he’d crossed that line a long time ago.

Soon, it was 8 a.m., and I was ready. Dressed in a sleeveless black shift dress that reached to my knees and zipped up at the back. I’d managed to get the zip three-quarters of the way up and I figured I’d ask Dornan to zip it the rest of the way up. I was standing at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and looking at a box of Cheerios with disdain. I’d completely lost my appetite in the last few weeks.

There was a knock at the door, and without thinking, I walked towards it. It was only when I got to the door and put my hand on the handle that I realised I couldn’t open it. I didn’t have a bloody code.

It didn’t seem to matter, though. The person on the other side hit the keypad in a series of muted beeps, and I heard the lock disengage. I didn’t move. I assumed it would be Dornan.

Big. Fucking. Mistake.

Before I could slam the door shut, Murphy was inside, pushing me down the hallway with a strength I had no hope of beating. His smile was cocky and full of excitement.

‘Good morning,’ he proclaimed loudly, stalking me with methodical precision as I backed down the hallway. The kitchen. There were knives in the kitchen.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, trying to make sure I didn’t trip and fall on my ass. ‘How’d you even know I was here?’

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