The Alpha Bodyguards Books #4-6

Chapter Seventeen

T he sensation of gagging woke me in a sheer panic. I opened my eyes and jerked my arms. Pain lanced into my wrists, and I tried to kick out, but the same sensation cut into my ankles as I choked on my own saliva.

A gag in my mouth, my wrists and ankles bound, I tried to turn my head, but I couldn’t even move that.

Fear burned down my throat and mixed with impotent rage as I sucked in air through my nose.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Santos walked into the room and lifted the hem of my dress as the sun fell into the ocean.

I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t move.

I could only glare.

Long shadows cut across his severe face. “Finally decided to wake up, huh?” He smiled, revealing uneven teeth.

I wanted to kick him in the mouth.

He shoved my already hiked-up dress further up my thigh. “Still not talking, I see.” His smile graduated to a grin as he tested the restraint across my forehead. “Or moving.”

The stench of fear, blood and depravity filled the room, and my stomach rolled as bone-deep cold settled in to my soul.

I blinked twice.

He laughed. “No, you’re not awake?”

He was going to rape me, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

He trailed a finger up my thigh. “You look awake to me, bitch.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “In fact, you look like you’re asking for it.”

I blinked twice, not wanting to grant him so much as a grunt.

His evil brown-eyed gaze on me, he shoved my dress over one hip. “I think you mean yes.”

If by yes, he meant that I was going to kill him when the restraints came off, then yes. That’s exactly what I meant. I was going to watch him take his last breath out of his putrid mouth.

His insipid chuckle filled the darkening bedroom again. “Oh, puppet , I think we’re both going to enjoy this.”

He hooked a thumb in my underwear and yanked them halfway down my thighs.

My back bowed and pain cut into my wrists and ankles, but I didn’t cry out. I wouldn’t. No matter what, I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

“That’s it.” He pulled out a knife and sawed my underwear until the material ripped. “Go ahead and fight me.” Leering down at me, he tossed my panties aside. “It only turns me on more.” Leaning a knee on the bed and shoving my dress over my bra, he ran his hand over my stomach then drew a finger between my legs.

I remembered it the same time he felt it.

He smirked. “What’s this?” He tugged on the tampon string.

Wild rage overrode all my fear, and I yanked on my leg restraints hard.

The wood-framed poster bed rattled, and Santos moved.

Gripping a handful of my hair, he pulled it until my scalp burned then he brought his face an inch above mine. “You think this will stop me?” The pressure on the string tightened. “You. Are. Wrong .” He yanked the tampon out in one sharp, fast jerk.

“Santos!” My uncle snapped from the living room.

“What?” Santos yelled back, tossing the tampon behind him without taking his eyes off me.

“Get out here.”

Wet leaked between my legs.

“Busy.” Santos twisted my nipple through my bra, and bile rose.

“ Now .”

Gripping my throat, Santos squeezed just hard enough to make my eyes water. “Wait for me, puppet .”

He got up and walked out.

My nostrils flared, and I arched my back, yanking on every single one of my restraints. The bed rattled, wet speared underneath me, and I pulled on my arms until a small squeak of pain escaped my throat.

But nothing budged.