Chapter Twenty-Five
Alex
The second I heard the bedroom door click shut, I was up.
My body moved before my mind fully caught up, adrenaline flooding my system and washing away the fog of exhaustion and frustrated arousal. I didn’t know how long he would be gone. Five minutes, ten, an hour, but it didn’t matter. This was my chance. Maybe my only chance.
I crossed the room in three quick strides, my bare feet silent on the cold floor. His computer sat on the desk against the far wall, the screen dark but the tower humming softly. My hands shook as I moved the mouse and watched the monitor flicker to life.
Please don’t have a password. Please don’t have a password.
The login screen appeared, and my heart sank. But when I clicked on his username, the desktop loaded without asking for credentials.
Stupid. So fucking stupid of him.
Or maybe he just didn’t think I would have the balls to try this.
I opened the web browser, my fingers flying across the keyboard. Muscle memory took over as I typed in the Outlook Mail URL, then my login information. The page loaded agonizingly slowly, each second feeling like an eternity.
Come on. Come on.
Finally, my inbox appeared. I clicked “Compose” and started typing. My hands trembled so badly that I had to backspace and retype half the words.
To: poseidon.godsofmayhem@
Subject: HELP - URGENT
Oscar,
I’m in serious trouble. I’m at the Brotherhood of Bastards’ clubhouse in Deadwood. I did something really stupid. Please don’t be mad at me but I need you to come get me.
-A
P.S. Don’t tell Zeus. Just come.
I read it over once, as my vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain anything. But it would have to do.
I hit send and watched the message disappear into the ether.
Please see it. Please come.
Then I deleted the sent message from my outbox, cleared the browser history with shaking hands, and closed out of everything.
The entire process took maybe three minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the dark screen, as my heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
What the fuck did you just do?
I had just used Nano’s own computer to send a distress signal to my brother. To the Gods of Mayhem. To the very people the Brotherhood was trying to keep in the dark about my presence here.
If he found out. When he found out. Don’t think about that. You had to try. You had to.
Because the money was gone. All seventy-five million dollars transferred back to the Brotherhood. I had nothing left to bargain with. Nothing to keep me valuable. Nothing to stop them from deciding I was more trouble than I was worth.
And then what? Would they kill me? Dump my body somewhere the Gods of Mayhem would never find it?
Or worse, would they keep me? Turn me into one of those empty-eyed club whores I had seen downstairs, existing only to serve, to fuck, to be used and discarded over and over until there was nothing left of who I used to be?
I won’t. I won’t become that.
But even as I thought it, I knew the truth.
I was already becoming it because my body didn’t belong to me anymore. It belonged to him.
The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I pressed my hands against the desk, needing something solid to hold onto as the world tilted sideways.
He had done something to me. Something I didn’t fully understand but could feel in every nerve ending, every desperate pulse of arousal that wouldn’t fade no matter how much I tried to ignore it.
My body was on fire. Had been for hours. Days, maybe. Time had lost all meaning in this room, in this bed, under his control, and the worst part, the part that made me want to scream and cry and tear my own skin off, was that I liked it.
I liked what he did to me. Liked the way he touched me, hurt me, denied me. Liked the darkness in his eyes and the cruelty in his voice, and the way he made me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
You’re sick. You’re fucking sick.
Just like with Michael.
The thought made bile rise in my throat. I had sworn that I would never let another man do to me what Michael had done. Never let myself be reduced to a thing that existed only for someone else’s pleasure and pain.
And yet, here I was.
Desperate. Aching. So fucking aroused I could barely think straight.
I needed release. Needed it so badly my hands were shaking and my thighs were slick, and my entire body felt like it was going to combust if I didn’t do something to ease this unbearable pressure.
Fine. Fuck it. He’s not here. You can do this yourself.
I walked back to the bed on unsteady legs and lay down, my hand immediately sliding between my thighs. I was so wet it was almost embarrassing as my fingers glided easily over my swollen clit.
Yes. God, yes.
I closed my eyes and started rubbing, fast and desperate, chasing my orgasm that had been hovering just out of reach for what felt like forever. My hips lifted off the bed, my free hand fisting the sheets as I worked myself harder, faster, my breath coming in quick gasps.
Come on. Come on. Just let go.
But I couldn’t. No matter how close I got, and I got close, so fucking close I could feel it building, feel that familiar tension coil tighter and tighter, my body refused to go over the edge. It was like hitting a wall. Like my body had forgotten how to finish without him.
No. No, that’s not possible.
I tried again, changing the angle, the pressure, and my speed. I thought about things that used to work, like fantasies, memories, anything that might push me over. But nothing helped. My body had betrayed me. It only responded to him now. To his touch. His voice. His control.
“Fuck!” The word tore out of me, raw and desperate. I pulled my hand away and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
But it was. It was so fucking real I wanted to die.
I lay there for a moment, my chest heaving, my body screaming for relief it couldn’t find. My frustration was so intense it was almost painful, a physical ache that radiated through every nerve ending.
The vibrator. The thought came unbidden, desperate. He had used one on me before. Maybe if I used it myself, maybe if I could just...
I got up and started searching, pulling open drawers with shaking hands.
The first few were empty or filled with clothes.
Then I turned toward the wall where he displayed his whips, canes, paddles, and floggers.
All arranged neatly, like tools in a workshop.
Like instruments of torture displayed in a museum.
And there, nestled in the second drawer down, were several vibrators of varying sizes.
I grabbed one blindly, my fingers closing around the smooth silicone. It was bigger than I remembered, thick and intimidating, but I didn’t care. I needed this. Needed something.
Back on the bed, I didn’t hesitate. I turned it on, the low hum filling the quiet room, and pressed it between my legs.
Yes. Oh God, yes. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming.
I gasped as my back arched off the bed as I pushed it inside, my body swallowing it despite its size.
I was so wet, so ready, so fucking desperate that it slid in without resistance.
I started thrusting it in and out, my hips moving rhythmically, my free hand gripping the sheets so hard my knuckles turned white.
The vibrations were intense, almost too much, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
This is it. This is going to work. Just a little more.
My body was moving fast toward that precipice again, that edge I had been hovering over for what felt like forever. I could feel it building, feel the tension coil tighter and tighter, feel my muscles starting to contract, and then I heard it.
A low chuckle. Dark and knowing and absolutely terrifying.
My eyes flew open.
Nano was standing at the end of his bed.
No. No, no, no!
He was completely naked. His body, all hard muscle and dangerous grace, bared in the dim light as his hand wrapped around his thick cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately, his eyes locked on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
Those eyes. Those cold, dark, and dangerous eyes, filled with something that looked like satisfaction. Like he had been waiting for exactly this moment. Like he had known this would happen.
“Please,” he said, his voice low and mocking, that knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Don’t stop on my account.”
I froze, the vibrator still inside me, still humming, my body still trembling on the edge of an orgasm I couldn’t reach.
He had caught me, and from the look in his eyes... he was going to make me pay dearly.
He moved before I could even think to react.
One second, he was standing at the end of the bed, watching me with those dark, predatory eyes. The next, he was on me, his hands gripping my thighs and spreading them wider as he yanked the vibrator out of my pussy in one swift, brutal motion.
I gasped at the sudden emptiness, my body clenching around nothing, still desperate for the release it had been denied. But before I could process what was happening, before I could even draw breath to speak, his mouth descended on me.
Oh fuck!
His lips closed around my clit, sucking it between his teeth with a pressure that bordered on pain, and the world exploded.
The orgasm I had been chasing, the one that had hovered just out of reach for what felt like hours, rushed forward with the force of an erupting volcano. It tore through me, violent and overwhelming, ripping a scream from my throat that echoed off the walls.
“Fuck!” The word came out raw and broken, barely recognizable as my own voice.