Azrael
Elizabeth opens the door to the dining room, and my eyes meet hers. Fear shimmers in hers, whereas fury burns in mine. My little toy is not with her, nor is she trailing behind her like I expected.
“I’m very sorry, sir. But she refuses to come downstairs without clothes on.” She wrings her hands in front of her. “There are none in the room.” Anger boils my blood, and my muscles quiver, pulling tightly, causing my shirt to stretch with the swell of my fury.
“That’s because I don’t like women to wear clothes when I fuck them,” I snipe back.
“They don’t normally join you for dinner, sir,” she says with a slight edge, and I eye her skeptically. Is she jealous? I shake the thought from my mind. Frankly, all I care about is Hevan complying.
It’s a stark reminder of how differently I think about my little toy compared to all others. All fucking week my mind has been overridden by images of me ruthlessly fucking her, and, better yet, her appearing to enjoy every minute of it.
I’m desperate to see her, and pissed after a shitty week. All I want is to eat dinner with what I own, and she’s creating unnecessary drama. But would you want your staff to see her naked? a small voice questions in my discombobulated mind.
The tension inside me intensifies at the prospect, and I rise out of my chair to stand.
“Give her this.” I unbutton my shirt, then throw it at her.
“Tell her I expect her down here immediately, otherwise I’ll fuck her cunt so hard she won’t be able to stand, and then I’ll throw her to my men after.
” My nostrils flare and fire shoots through my body with vengeance.
Elizabeth practically runs from the room, and I take a seat, waiting to see if she complies or not.
Part of me hopes she doesn’t just so I can punish her, and the prospect of the latter will see numerous of my men dead by the end of the night.
There’s no way in hell I will let them witness her naked beauty, then live to reminisce about it.
It seems like a lifetime lost in my dark thoughts of slaughter before the dining room door opens again.
I glance toward it, and my ability to function is stolen from me.
The sight of her in my black shirt, which fits her more like a dress, has me rubbing over my chest to disguise the stabbing pain forming in my heart.
I clear my throat. “Nice of you to join me,” I grunt out, the displeasure evident in my tone.
She pastes a mocking smile on her face. “Nice of you to ask so politely.” Then she drops the smile and struts over to the place set beside me at the table.
Jesus, she’s going to smell like me now too.
My balls ache with need.
She slides onto the chair like she has all the time in the world, and irritation builds inside me. Instead of showing it, I glare ahead, acting unperturbed by her lateness and sharp tongue.
“I need clothes if you’re expecting me to leave my prison room, Azrael,” she clips out.
The way she says my name has arousal rushing through me, and I have visions of throwing her down on the table and having her for dinner instead, sampling her pussy on my tongue while she rides my face like a seasoned whore. But she isn’t one; she’s only had your cock inside her. She’s all yours.
I shift in my chair; the physical need to act out my thoughts is worse than any form of torture.
“It’s hardly a prison, but if you prefer that surrounding, it could be arranged. I have cells in the basement for use.” Elizabeth places the steak down in front of me before moving around the table and providing the same to Little Toy’s place.
“Thank you,” she mutters, and it pisses me off that she gives Elizabeth pleasantries while I receive the brunt end of her venom.
“You’re incomprehensible,” she hisses back at me.
I cut into my steak and place it in my mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing before responding.
“I could demand a refund and offer you up to the auctions instead,” I clip back.
Her jaw locks shut, and her eyes blaze with hatred.
“Eat up!” I snap, pointing to her meal.
We sit in silence, eating the meal I chose after knowing how much she enjoyed the last steak she was provided with. The cameras I have in her room are evidence of this, and I’ve spent many hours watching her without her knowledge; again, not something I’ve done before now.
She fidgets, and I can’t help but wonder if her ass is still sore from my taking. “I peer out the window all day, or daydream on the bed. I’m bored, Azrael.” She exhales loudly.
My lip twitches at the thought of her naked, leaking my cum, and waiting for my return.
“Do you daydream of me fucking you roughly?” I ask, and when heat creeps up her cheeks, I smile and place another piece of steak in my mouth.
She ignores my comment. “Can you at least get me a book or something?”
“A book?” Surprise hits me, and I delight in the fact she didn’t ask for a phone. Not that she’d receive one. Not a chance. Nope, my little toy didn’t ask for a means to escape; she purely wants entertainment while I’m gone. Though, I quite like the thought of her craving my return and daydreaming.
“Yes! People like to read, Azrael.”
I scoff at her response.
A heavy sigh leaves her, and she shakes her blonde locks before tucking some behind her ear and exposing the bite mark on her neck. My bite mark. “Did you have a good day at work?” she asks, shocking the shit out of me.
My fork stills mid-air, and I stare at her. Really fucking stare. Then I blink, unsure if I heard her correctly.
Her lip twitches, and a smile graces her pretty face. “You do work, don’t you?”
I eat the remainder on the fork, then dab the corner of my mouth with the napkin. “I kill people. Interrogate and negotiate illegal deals.”
She searches my face. “Have you always done this line of work?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in the Mafia and it’s expected of me.”
Her nose wrinkles, and somehow, she appears even more innocent. “Do you always do what is expected of you?”
“Only when I want to survive.”
“I’d rather thrive than merely survive.” She shrugs. And her words dance in my mind. I’ve never heard of anything so obtuse in my entire life.
The tension in my muscles prevents me from dragging her over the table and showing her how some of us are forced to comply, never having had the option of thriving. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of a choice.”
Her bold glare drills into me. “Nobody forced you to comply with a kidnapping and to fuck your captive.”
I lean over the table. “And nobody forced you to open your legs and offer yourself up to your captor,” I snipe back, and relish the way her small frame jolts and her eyes widen.
“We all do things necessary to survive, Hevan.” The spite in my tone is clear.
Who the fuck does she think she is, coming in here, acting like any of us have choices?
Our world is completely different from the one she’s been brought up in.
“Don’t fucking diminish one’s behavior in order to survive. ”
She swallows, her eyes well with tears, and my jaw tics at the prospect of her crying. “And don’t fucking cry. I’ve given you no reason to.” I slam my fist on the table. She averts her gaze while I continue glaring in her direction, pissed at her response.
Her eyes are softer than before when they return to me, and I don’t know what I despise more, her hatred or her tenderness. The two are a complete contrast, yet annoyingly part of her, part of what I appear to obsess over.
“When will you release me?” she whispers.
“When I’ve finished with you,” I state, then continue eating my meal, feeling her eyes on me all the while.
“Will you send me to one of your clubs when you’re done with me?”
Slowly, I cast my eyes up to hers, and she holds my focus, causing my heart to beat erratically. Why the hell does she bring out these bizarre feelings from inside me?
Jesus, I want to punish her for it. Fuck, do I want to punish her. Until she screams and begs me to fuck her, proving that she wants me and she’s not being forced; she only wants me to fuck her, opinions be damned.
“My father likes to fuck my toys when I’ve finished with them. Perhaps I’ll send you to him first.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them, and the way her expression turns to hurt has my stomach churning in a peculiar sensation I’ve not felt in a long time.
Guilt.
I clear my throat. “I’ll see about having some books ordered for you,” I say in a desperate attempt to pacify her.
Her slender shoulders relax, and I long to stroke her silky hair to soothe her. Instead, I drag a finger over my lip and take the opportunity to ask her the questions that have been whirling around in my head since the moment I discovered her virginity was on my cock.
“How did you end up at the whorehouse?”
She huffs, then turns her head to give me her full attention. “I was walking back to my dorm with my boyfriend, and the next thing I know, I’m waking in the basement of your hellhole with a sting in my neck and a sore head.”
A red haze passes over me, and for a fleeting moment, I’m paralyzed.
Did she say boyfriend?
“You look like you’re about to explode.” She tilts her head from side to side.
Did she have feelings for him? Did he touch her bare skin? Mark her as his? Taste her lips before me? “Azrael, are you okay?” The concern lacing her voice has my attention snapping to her, and I give my head a shake.
“What’s his name?”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Who?”
I grind my teeth, and a bolt of pain slices through my jaw, and my hand tightens on my fork, causing the metal to bend. “Don’t act dumb. What’s. His. Fucking. Name?” She watches me as I emphasize each word with vitriol on my tongue. “Your … ex-boyfriend.”
“I didn’t say he was an ex.”
There’s no way in hell she’s going to refer to him as a boyfriend again.
“I did!” I boom, and she swallows while slinking back in her chair.
“Stefan Capri,” she whispers. “His name is Stefan Capri,” she says louder this time. Then she clears her throat, and her eyes fill with worry. “Don’t hurt him.” She exhales heavily, her chest rising faster by the second. “Please, Azrael. I’ll do whatever you want; please don’t hurt him.”
My lip curls into a slow, calculated smile that has her startling, and I know I have her exactly where I want her, answers and all.
She may not be aware of it, but she’s been trafficked—possibly to order, judging by her stunning appearance.
Stefan Capri will have a slow and painful death by my hand, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let him watch me fuck her while I steal the pleasure from her body before he dies knowing he sold her to the devil.