16
Amara
M ark never stopped blowing up my phone, so I made a report to the local police station. They said they’d look into it, but I doubted it. But at least there would be a record of his behavior.
“We got a response,” my divorce lawyer muttered. “He wants everything you asked for, leaving you with nothing.”
I scoffed. “After what he did to me, that’s never going to happen.”
“I figured,” he smiled. “Want to make a counteroffer?”
“No,” I smiled. “Mark’s mistress will want to marry him, and she’ll start putting pressure on him to divorce me. Maybe he’ll cave.”
“I agree,” he responded, his printer humming. “Here are the papers again, two copies in case his mistress throws them at you again.”
“She can try,” I muttered, taking the papers from him and signing them. “All that’s missing is his signature now.”
“I also prepared the paperwork to change your name in case you want to get that process started,” he offered.
“Yes, actually. Thank you.”
“Don’t you have court today?” he wondered, glancing at the clock. “Did it end early?”
“Yeah, just asked for a continuance,” I shrugged, knowing full well that Enzo was probably breaking out right this moment. “We’re going back in a few weeks.”
“Your next client is here,” the receptionist warned my divorce lawyer.
“Sorry, Mrs. Branson,” he apologized.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you later,” I placated, getting up from my seat and going to my office.
I smiled as I saw the mail piled on my desk. I threw the junk mail out and quickly opened my letter from Enzo.
Amara,
I can still taste you on my tongue. I can’t wait to have another taste…
-Enzo
His letters were always short and sweet, contrasting to when I first met him; they used to be long, elaborate, and detailed.
Part of me wondered if that part of him was still in there somewhere. But I knew that it didn’t matter because I knew that no matter what, I accepted him for who he was.
And it terrified me.
I took a piece of paper from my printer and grabbed a pen, beginning to write my letter.
Enzo,
Not if I taste you first. See you soon.
-Amara
I grinned as I addressed and stamped the envelope, sliding it into my purse to mail later.
The sun rose and set, and my boss knocked on my office door, giving me a pointed look.
I grinned sheepishly, like a child caught in the act. “Sorry, I was just finishing up,” I apologized.
“Pick it up tomorrow,” she chided, tapping her watch. “I have to lock up now.”
“Yes, Marta,” I told my boss, taking my purse with me as I slung it over my shoulder. She stood at my doorway, tapping her foot impatiently until I finally meandered, jogging out of the building.
I dropped the letter in my mailbox, my nerves buzzing with anticipation. Today was the day. Enzo was supposed to break out of the courthouse today, and since the courthouse was closed now, I knew he had already escaped.
Was he lurking in the shadows, stalking me, or following me even now? Was he watching me or waiting for me at home?
My heels clicked against the pavement as I approached my house. I stopped when my front door came into view; it was open, swinging in the wind, yawning and creaking.
A cold pang of dread speared through my heart. I distinctly remembered locking the door—I always locked it—and a rush of frigid air gusted to me, making me shiver.
Was it Enzo, or did Mark find me? The harassment charges I filed should’ve warned him away, or maybe they made him angrier. I glanced at my phone, noticing that I didn’t have any missed calls from him today. Was it because he planned to ambush me here?
I swallowed hard, hoping he just stopped calling me because I made a harassment report. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.
I heard muffled sounds and low thuds coming from above me. I went stiff, my pulse hammering in my ears. Someone was here, but I didn’t know who.
I didn’t want to be like those people in horror movies who just called out hello , letting the serial killer know where they were. So, just in case, I approached the kitchen counter, removing a butcher knife from the wooden block there, the weight heavy and sure in my palm. I gripped it so tightly my knuckles turned white.
A low, creaking groan sounded above, the floorboards protesting from shifting weight. I slowly crept toward the steps, trying to stay silent as my heart pounded so loud I was sure everyone could hear. The stairs loomed ahead, the upper level obscured in shadows.
Was it Enzo, waiting for me with that delicious smirk, or Mark, ready to unleash another living nightmare ?
I kicked off my heels, wincing at them, clattering on the tiles, before I inched up the stairs. My hand ached from my grip on the heavy blade, but it didn't calm the chaos in my heart. I gulped, forcing my breath to steady as I slinked forward, each step controlled and cautious.
I took the first step, then the next. My bedroom door creaked open ahead of me, and I knew that I wasn't alone.
A shadow broke from the darkness and rushed me, and I screamed, swinging blindly. I felt warm blood trickle on my face as whoever it was gripped me, holding my wrist and a hand over my mouth as he dragged me into my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
“You brought a toy,” Enzo purred against my ear, and I sagged with relief.
Feeling my body relax in his arms, he chuckled and let go of me. He moved toward my nightstand and flicked on the light, and I winced as my eyes adjusted.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to get a better look. What I saw made the color drain from my face.
A man sat in one of my dining room chairs, bound tightly with chains. He was gagged, dirty, bruised, and bleeding. His brows were furrowed, fury flashing in his eyes as he glared at me as if this was all my fault. Blame in eyes I’d seen aimed at me for years.
Mark.
What was he doing here, in my home, and with Enzo?
“So,” Enzo drawled, wearing a black mask with a skull painted on it, circling the chair. “I heard you refuse to sign the divorce papers.”
Mark said something behind his gag, but it was muffled, and I couldn’t understand him.
“If I was married to her, I wouldn’t want to let her go, either,” Enzo mused, circling behind me, dragging his fingers around my throat, making me shudder, before he turned back to Mark. “But I wouldn’t cheat on her and knock up some other bitch like you did.”
“Fuck you!” Mark shouted through his gag. He said something else, but it was undecipherable.
Enzo pulled the gag from Mark’s mouth, and I realized he wore black gloves. Dread pooled in my stomach, wondering what this dangerous killer was about to do to my ex.
“Show yourself, coward!” Mark spat .
“If I do, I’ll have to kill you,” Enzo replied. “So, do you really want me to remove my mask? Because I’ll be the last fucking thing you’ll ever see.”
Mark bared his teeth but remained silent. I could see that Mark had a black eye, and his lip was split and bleeding.
“Sign the papers,” Enzo growled.
“I’m not giving her shit!” Mark snapped. “She can sign my agreement.”
“You either sign hers, or I’ll make her a widow. Either way, she’s walking out of here a single woman. How is up to you,” Enzo declared.
“You wouldn’t—”
Enzo brandished a military-grade knife and stabbed it in one of his thighs. Mark screamed as blood seeped into his jeans.
Enzo shoved the gag back in Mark’s mouth, laughing. “Maybe you’ll change your mind,” he murmured, gently taking my butcher knife from my hand. “I’ve got many knives, and I’ll turn you into my personal pincushion.”
My blood buzzed as I watched Enzo attack the man who had abused me for years, a man who nearly killed me more than once. I was in the same room with two dangerous men, but somehow, I knew that no serious harm would come to me .
“Stop,” I murmured, reaching for Enzo—
But it was a mistake. Still on edge, he grabbed my wrist and turned, pinning me against the wall and holding it above my head. He was breathing hard, and our breaths mingled, and I didn’t fight him. I gazed into his eyes through the mask, and they were dark, broody, and dangerous, and I drowned in their depths.
“Fuck, baby,” Enzo purred, gripping my throat as he pulled me to him, his lips clashing against mine. He forced my lips open with his tongue, and his frenzied movements made my knees weak. I whimpered as he gripped my tongue with his teeth, circling the tip with his tongue.
“Whore!” Mark shouted through his gag. It stung, and I pulled away, my passion retreating.
“He doesn’t get to do that anymore, baby,” Enzo insisted, tilting my chin so I had to look at him again. “Don’t let him rob you of your pleasure ever again.”
The breath left my lungs as he lifted me, carrying me to my bed before laying me across it, my hair fanned out on the sheets. Our profiles faced Mark, and he struggled against his chains.
“Let him watch,” Enzo chuckled.
Enzo’s hot hand slid up my arms, still covered in that black glove. It was smooth latex and clicked something cold and hard against my wrists. I looked up, stunned to realize he handcuffed me to one of my bedposts.
He slithered away from me, turning to some sort of black bag he brought with him. He removed a large pair of scissors and came at me, his eyes crinkled in a smile hidden beneath his mask.
I lay before him, trembling as he cut my clothes off, pushing the remnants off me, peeling back the layers like wrappings on a present. My breath was shaky, my body buzzing, caught between fear and something more depraved--desire.
Enzo brandished a gun, holding it loosely in his grip, watching me with the same detached amusement I was sure he gave his victims. But I wasn't a victim, not yet.
"Open," he ordered, pressing the cold barrel against my bottom lip.
I hesitated, my eyes shifting to Mark before my tongue darted out, tasting the bitter tang of the metal.
“Don’t look at him,” he snapped, forcing my face to his. “Look at me.”
I whimpered, nodding.
He chuckled darkly, giving his head a little shake. "Do I need to remind you who's in control?" The safety clicked off, and my pulse stuttered, my blood going cold.
Slowly, I parted my lips, and he slid the barrel past them, the steel foreign and threatening against my tongue.
"Good girl," he murmured, dragging his fingers through my hair, tightening his grip until pain laced my scalp. "Now suck."
I obeyed, hollowing my cheeks around the weapon, sucking it deeper in my mouth.
His breathing deepened, his pupils dilating. "See? You can be so good when you try." The gun slid free, trailing down my throat, between my breasts, and lower still.
The promise in his eyes was darker than any abyss, and I knew that whatever happened next, I would never be the same.
Enzo rose, spitting on the gun before he nudged my legs apart. He hummed as the barrel slid through my juices, circling my entrance as my hips bucked.
He pressed the gun inside, slowly at first, increasing the pressure until it bottomed out inside me. This gun was bigger than the last one he used on me, and it stung as it stretched me, the cold bite unforgiving, the hard steel a deadly promise .
Enzo rolled up part of his mask, smirking at me as his lips clamped on my clit, pulling me into his mouth, scraping against his teeth. I cried out, and he moved his gun inside me, stroking it in and out of me, stretching me to the limit as he tongued my clit, sending sparks of ecstasy through my core.
I heard Mark screaming through his gag, trying to take my pleasure from me and interrupt us, but it didn’t work. His protest only made me hotter, knowing that he disapproved of this curled hot coils in my lower belly.
Then Enzo flicked his tongue against my clit, and I was a goner. He pressed a hand to my mouth as I screamed, gyrating against his mouth and gun as I clenched so hard it hurt. I sobbed, my orgasm soul-crushing as it flooded over me, leaving nothing left in its wake.
“That’s how she comes,” he grinned, lapping at my clit. “I know you never fucking saw her do that for you before.”
“Fuck you,” Mark shouted, but it only made Enzo laugh against my clit, making it throb harder.
Enzo circled the gun inside me as if he was gathering my moisture for something. What did he have planned for me now?
The chains jangled against the chair as Mark struggled, and I turned my head towards him, my eyes dazed with lust for my pen pal. Mark looked furious and disgusted, and it thrilled me to know I was nothing like he thought, just like he wasn’t the man I married. He was pathetic, sitting there, watching a psychopath fuck me while he dripped blood on my bedroom floor.
Enzo slowly removed the gun from my pussy, and I whimpered at the loss, squirming, hungry for more.
He pressed the barrel against my back hole, and I stiffened. He grinned, pulling his mask back down as he pulled his pants down, exposing his massive, thick cock. He had a web of pulsing veins along his shaft, and his head was darker than the rest of him, as if he strangled it to keep from coming on my sheets.
Enzo bent over me, slipping a pillow under my hips before pressing his cock against my entrance.
“Please,” I begged, writhing, pleading for him to ruin me.
“That’s a good girl,” he groaned, shoving himself inside me, burying both his cock and gun inside me at the same time. My ass and pussy were stuffed, and I felt fuller than I ever had. “Let’s get all these holes filled,” he murmured as he slipped his fingers in my mouth .
He rammed inside me, his gun and cock assaulting my holes in unison, his hips snapping against mine so hard, my head hung off the bed, my hair spilling to the floor. “Suck,” he commanded, and I did, whimpering and breathing hard through my nose as his gun stimulated me in forbidden places.
My eyes crossed as Enzo’s cock invaded me, raking against every nerve, making liquid fire spread through my veins. The white-hot ecstasy burned, growing more and more intense as he plunged into me.
Enzo nuzzled my breasts, gripping a nipple with his teeth through his mask, sucking on them, the damp fabric scraping against the sensitive buds.
I let out a broken cry as I lost myself in the delicious pain and mind-blowing pleasure.