Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Wade
The lock disengaged with a heavy clunk, and I pulled the door open without breaking stride.
My expression was cold—the businessman who'd built empires with zero tolerance for threats, the predator who'd survived decades at the top by knowing when mercy was weakness.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, and as I shouldered my way through, the screen lit up with a notification.
Asset en route. ETA 7 minutes.
The harsh lights cast everything in stark relief. The concrete floor was stained dark where blood and other fluids had pooled, and the metal bench in the center had Castellanos taped to it, flanked by my two men.
They straightened again when I entered, eyes forward.
Castellanos's head lifted weakly. His eyes found mine and went wide, genuine animal fear flooding his face when he saw whatever expression I was wearing.
I let the door slam shut behind me, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the enclosed space.
I crossed the room slowly, hands in my pockets, my footsteps relaxed on the cold concrete. I stopped a few feet away from him, close enough to see the sweat dripping down his temples.
“The stab wound?” I asked my men without taking my eyes off Castellanos.
“Stable, sir," the one on the left replied. "He's fit for transport."
"Good." I tilted my head slightly, studying Castellanos the way you'd study something unpleasant you'd found on the asphalt. "Our guest should be arriving shortly."
Both men nodded once, their faces carefully blank.
"The individual being transported," I continued, "is serving an indefinite sentence for creative applications of vigilante justice. He has very specific interests, very hands-on methods of expressing his moral philosophy."
Castellanos' breathing hitch, his eyes going even wider.
"Quite the character," I went on. "The system labeled him a monster because they lacked the imagination to see the poetry in his work. He's remarkably cooperative when properly motivated, and I've been assured he's very motivated to make the most of his time during transport."
The implication was obvious.
Castellanos made a strangled sound behind the gag, his whole body jerking against the tape binding him to the bench. His wrists twisted uselessly behind his back, ankles straining.
"You'll be sharing a vehicle with him," I explained, watching his face drain of color. "The route is quite extensive. Inland, around the perimeter, back again. It takes hours, days." I paused, letting that sink in. "Plenty of time for you two to become acquainted."
One of my men shifted his weight slightly. They knew what I was describing, and that there was no destination. Just an endless loop of isolated roads where no one would hear anything, and where the driver had explicit instructions to take his time.
The only company Castellanos would have was a man who'd spent years perfecting ways to make other men scream.
"He has a particular appreciation for men like you.” I gestured vaguely, “Men who prey on the vulnerable. Who use power to break the helpless. It speaks to him on a personal level."
Castellanos was shaking, muffled noises pouring from behind the gag—pleas, probably, or curses. It didn't matter.
I leaned down until my face was level with his, close enough that he could see every bit of cold calculation in my eyes.
"You wanted power over women who couldn't fight back," I said quietly. "Now you get to understand what that feels like for every single mile of that route."
His eyes were bloodshot, tears mixing with sweat, his chest heaving with panicked breaths through his nose.
"This is what you earned, Castellanos. This is the payment, and it will never, ever be enough."
I straightened, adjusting my cuffs with deliberate care, and turned to my men.
"When our guest arrives, ensure they're loaded together. I want them sharing very close quarters for the duration of the route."
"Understood, sir."
"And the driver has his instructions?"
"Yes, sir. Scenic route, no rush. He understands stops are at his discretion."
"Excellent."
I looked back at Castellanos one final time, who was thrashing weakly against the restraints. Terror consumed him as he finally, truly understood that there was no end to this. No destination, no rescue.
Just an endless cycle of exactly what he'd inflicted on others, played back on him mile after mile after mile.
"Enjoy the ride," I bid pleasantly.
Then I turned on my heel and walked out, the steel door slamming shut.
My phone buzzed as I reached the garage.
Asset arriving now.
I glanced at the message, a cold satisfaction settling in my chest, and slid the phone away.
I climbed into the car and immediately reached for my Marie, pulling her across the leather and into my lap where she belonged. She came willingly, curling into my chest.
"All done?"
"All done," I confirmed, wrapping both arms around her. "Let's go home."
Thomas pulled out of the garage without a word, gliding smoothly up the ramp and out into the night.
I held Marie close, feeling her rest against me, feeling no guilt about what I'd arranged. No remorse for the hours, days of horror Castellanos was about to experience.
Just cold, merciless satisfaction that justice had been served. The kind that happened in the dark, on isolated roads, where monsters learned what they'd inflicted on others.
The Rolls-Royce barely came to a complete stop before I was opening the door, pulling Marie out with me, my hand tight around hers as I led her across the entry, straight to the beach gate.
It was the quickest path to privacy, to having her alone under the open sky, where I could finally put my mouth on her the way I'd been craving since we’d left that room.
I typed the code, the lock disengaging with a soft click, and hurried through the gate with Marie following after me, half-laughing, half-breathless as sand gave way under our feet.
"Wade, what—"
The second we cleared the threshold, I backed her up against the cool stone wall of the estate. Sand stretched out in silver waves under the full moon, the ocean dark and infinite just yards away. Palm fronds rustled overhead, and the air smelled like salt and night-blooming jasmine.
I dropped to my knees in front of her, the deck beneath my weight, and grabbed the waistband of her pink pajama pants.
Her breath caught, and I yanked them down along with her panties in one rough motion. The fabric pooled around one ankle, and I jerked it free, tossing it somewhere behind me onto the sand.
"Wade!” Her hands flew to my shoulders, trying to steady herself against the wall.
I looked up at her, my hands gripping her thighs. The moonlight painted her dark skin silver, caught in her brown eyes, making her look ethereal and entirely too far away, even though she was right in front of me.
"What did you just call me?"
Her eyes went wide. "I—daddy, I meant—"
"That's better." I spread her legs wider, my thumbs stroking the soft skin of her inner thighs. "And what did daddy promise you in the car?"
She bit her lip, looking torn between shyness and the desire to say exactly what she wanted.
"Use your words, darling."
“You said you’d…” Her voice broke off into a little moan as I pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, just inches from where she needed me.
"Say it."
"You said you'd lick me," she whispered, her fingers tightening on my shoulders. “You said you were going to eat me until you were satisfied."
“That’s right.” I looked up at her, at the moonlight catching the tears clinging to her lashes from earlier, at her lips parted and waiting. "And daddy always keeps his promises."
Then I lowered my mouth to her sweet pussy, and licked a greedy stripe up her slit. A groan tore from my throat, raw and hungry. She was already wet, already delicious, and I licked up the entire length of her, savoring every soft inch.
Her whole body shuddered against the wall, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt.
"Oh god," she whimpered.
I did it again, my tongue flat and broad, tasting her properly, committing the taste to memory, a taste that made my cock throb against my zipper.
Her thighs trembled on either side of my head, and I gripped them harder, my fingers pressing into soft flesh, holding her steady, holding her open.
The ocean crashed behind us, waves rolling, the sound mixing with her soft gasps and the obscene wet noises of my mouth on her. Salt air and her scent filled my lungs with every breath I took between licks.
I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue and felt her whole body jerk, her breathing turning ragged.
"That's your ocean," I murmured against her, my voice rough and muffled. "Right there behind me. The one you grew up in, the one that means freedom."
She made a sound, a happy, broken laugh mixed with a moan.
I went back to work, licking and sucking, giving her what made her gasp, what made her thighs clench around my head, what made her say my name—my real name or my title.
I tasted more of her as she got wetter under my tongue, surrendering to me, and something feral took over.
I needed more. I needed all of her.
I grabbed her left ankle and yanked it up over my shoulder, spreading her wider, opening her completely to my mouth and the ocean air.
She cried out, surprise and pleasure mixing together, and her balance shifted, her back pressing harder against the stone wall, one hand tangling in my hair for purchase.
"Daddy!" she gasped, trying to adjust to the new angle, to the way I'd just opened her up like a feast.
"That's right," I growled into her pussy, already diving back in deeper now, my tongue lapping at her with single-minded focus. "Daddy's got you. You're not going anywhere."
I sealed my mouth over her clit and sucked hard while my hands gripped her thigh and hip, holding her where I wanted her. Her leg over my shoulder trembled, and I could feel every shudder, every twitch, every greedy attempt to grind closer against my face.
She was completely at my mercy, spread open under the moonlight with the ocean as witness, and the sight of her head thrown back, mouth open, chest heaving, pink pajama top riding up slightly to show a sliver of her stomach, was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.
"That's your ocean," I told her again, pulling back just enough to speak clearly. "Your home. And you're taking back everything that was stolen from you right here where you belong."
I pushed my tongue inside her, and her response died in a deep moan.
I fucked her with my tongue, feeling her inner walls clench and flutter around the intrusion. My nose pressed against her clit with every thrust, and she grew closer and closer.
“So good,” I praised between licks. "Such a good girl for standing here with your legs spread, letting daddy taste every inch of this perfect little pussy."
"I can't—" she whimpered, her whole body trembling so hard I had to hold her tighter to keep her upright. "Daddy, I—it's so much—"
I pulled back and slid two fingers inside her while my mouth returned to her clit, sucking and licking.
"You can. You're going to take everything I give you, darling."
I pumped my fingers, feeling her inner walls squeeze and flutter around them while my tongue worked her clit relentlessly. The moonlight caught on the wetness coating my fingers every time I withdrew, and the sight of it made my cock leak into my pants.
"You were so brave tonight.” My breath was hot on her sensitive flesh. "My fearless girl deserves to feel this good."
She keened, and I knew she was close. Her muscles were starting to lock up, her breathing turning into desperate little gasps.
"Come for me," I commanded against her pussy. "Come on daddy's tongue, darling."
I felt it build. Her inner walls started clenching around my fingers, her breathing stopping entirely for one suspended moment, her back arching.
Then her orgasm hit hard, her whole body melting, flooding my mouth with wetness as she cried out so loud the pretty sound carried across the empty beach and mixed with the crash of waves.
I kept my mouth on her, my fingers moving, working her through every wave, licking up everything she gave me until she was giggling breathlessly, trying to push my head away because it was too intense.
Only then did I slow down, pressing soft kisses to her flesh, her inner thigh, her hip, the soft skin of her lower belly while I carefully withdrew my fingers.
I looked up at her tear-streaked face, flushed in the moonlight, at her swollen lips, at her blissed-out eyes staring down at me like she couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
Mine. She was mine. Safe and whole and coming apart under the stars with her ocean right behind us.
Her abuser was locked in an endless nightmare, and she was here, free, tasting like freedom and everything good in this world.
I lowered her leg from my shoulder, keeping both hands on her hips to steady her because her knees were clearly not cooperating anymore.
“Delicious,” I murmured, standing slowly until I was towering over her again, my body caging her against the wall. “Did that feel good?”
She looked at me with glassy, wrecked eyes and nodded enthusiastically, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. "You're really good at that, daddy."
I chuckled, cupping her face in both hands, my thumbs stroking her flushed cheeks. "I'm nowhere near done with you yet.”