Chapter 11
“Itold you not to fucking rush me.” I know we’re pressed for time, especially since it took longer than anticipated to get Rosie’s guard down.
When she almost bailed on me earlier, I thought I was going to have to drag her kicking and screaming, but like most women, she ignores her fear the second I bat my lashes and flash that panty-soaking smile.
My cock drips as I pull it from within her warm, wet cunt.
“I know,” my accomplice counters. “But it’s double the work, and double the clean-up this time.
” He struts farther into the room, already high off the situation.
Rosie screams against her muzzle, thrashing against the bindings, as Brad drags her sister along by the hair.
I assume he’s already had his fun with her since drugging her in the game room.
Passing off her scream of fear as one of pleasure was genius on his part.
He plunged the needle into her while knuckle deep inside her heat, just like we planned.
Hell, maybe he did it while she was cumming, and her cries were a mix of both.
I make note to ask him later.
“Awe, poor baby. Are you worried?” I taunt.
Chelsea whimpers in pain, semi-conscious and a little worse for the wear.
We aren’t supposed to fuck up the merchandise, but a bloody nose isn’t anything substantial.
Even if it looks like her face ran a faucet of red over her entire body.
Her blonde hair is matted and clumped with blood, and the red dress is gone.
Probably torn to shreds. She rests in a naked heap next to Brad’s shoe, quietly crying while watching Rose fight and scream on the bed just out of her reach.
Chelsea knows there’s no escape, I can see it in her glazed expression. Brad’s probably disclosed the whole sick situation to her, just to get off on the light leaving her eyes.
He hates women more than anyone I’ve ever known.
One drunken night, he told me his sister used to molest him.
When he told his mother, she said it was ridiculous, men can’t be assaulted, and his sister would never do such a thing.
So, I guess it’s doubly bad for Chelsea, being Rosie’s sister and all.
He’s probably fucked her up mentally, deeper than a bruise ever could.
“Fuck off, man. I’m not worried. It’s just a lot of work, and I want to be ready.”
Rising from the bed, I gather my clothes, pulling my shorts back on.
Rose’s eyes lock with her sister’s, tears leaking from the corners.
“Yeah, yeah,” I oblige, leaning over to trail my fingers along the soft skin of Rose’s leg.
She jerks away from my hold, fear shining bright in her hazel eyes.
I watch enraptured as anger overcomes them.
She rears her foot back, lashing out in a violent attempt to kick me.
I stifle the effort, grabbing her ankle and pressing it into the mattress on top of her other one, pinning both her legs.
I wasn’t lying when I said I wish our time together was longer. I want to peel back the layers and expose all of her warring personalities. The bold one who kissed me, the coy little tease, the submissive brat, and the very insecure little girl still struggling for attention within her.
The dragon tattoo fits her perfectly.
Such a shame they’ll cut the beautiful artwork from her skin.
Can’t have any identifying marks in the skin trade.
I reach beneath the bed, grabbing the rope hidden there. When Rose sees it revealed, she bucks, ripping herself from my hold. She pulls her knees up under her, crawling away from me.
My cum leaks from her pussy, and the sight makes my dick tingle. I reach for her, but she’s backed up against the headboard, kicking me away, fighting with everything she’s got.
“Need help?” Brad coos, leaning against the wall. He’s freshly showered, and dressed in a tight black tank top and swim shorts for the next part of our plan. His shoes tucked into the bag he will carry. A petrified Chelsea whimpers, watching the scene unfold.
“Fuck off,” I growl, catching a heel to the gut.
“Move a muscle, blondie, and I’ll choke the life out of your sister while you watch.” Brad directs to the woman at his feet. She offers a shallow nod. Pushing off the wall, he says to me, “You know what makes ‘em listen, Sam?”
“What?” I snap, annoyed with this fucking questioning while battling to restrain the woman fighting for her life.
“Fear.”
“She likes being scared,” I counter.
“Not fear for herself, for someone else.” He approaches the bed, Rosie’s eyes bouncing between us as her movements falter.
“I think it’s best you start behaving, red…”
I usually don’t give a shit when Brad dehumanizes our victim, he always does in some way.
However this time, it bothers me something fierce.
Rose’s hair colour is such a part of who she is—small but with a glimmer of spunk.
Calling her Red is just another reminder of what’s going to be taken from her, and that no one’s going to give a shit what her name is from this point on.
“Or I might be so inclined to slice your sister up and toss her off the balcony as shark food. No matter what was paid for the both of you.”
There it is.
He dropped it on her.
Rose immediately stills, the truth shattering her reality.
“That’s right,” Brad says, grabbing her hair and tugging her flitting gaze to his. “They sold you, sweetie. Set up this whole elaborate cruise vacation just to make it seamless.”
I watch the enticing woman before me crumble to dust, sick satisfaction coming over Brad’s features. “What are you waiting for? Tie her down,” he directs, as his hand cups her breast, twisting and tugging her nipple.
I fight the scowl furrowing my brows, the feelings contorting my face, as I rise from the mattress. Back on my feet, I grab her ankles and pull her down the bed. With her arms stretched to their limit, I bind her ankles to the footboard.
Rose is an empty husk, the warring goddess within her beaten into submission with a few words. Her vacant stare cuts me more than I like.
Brad pulls a covered syringe from his pocket, tugging the cap off with his teeth before sinking it into the thumping vein in Rose’s neck.
Immediately she tenses, the sharp pain snapping her back to the here and now.
She attempts to throw her sluggish body away from him, but she’s not going anywhere.
Her body’s lax by the time her terrified eyes find mine, and then her lids slowly close.
Brad rises from the mattress, his gaze far too assessing for my liking. Grabbing his bag of tricks from next to the door that adjoins our rooms, he says, “Let’s get a move on.” His dark sights sweep slowly over my Rosie, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Before I insist we swap sisters.”