Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Mikayla
“Seems as though you have yet to figure out your place, sweetheart,” Colt drawls as I’m forced down in front of him.
My knees hit the carpet, the fresh scrapes from the night before, stinging from the friction and more than likely re-opening.
My arms are pulled behind me, the unmistakable sound of a zip tie echoes through the room as my wrists are bound together.
The action stirs my heart into a fluttered panic, I haven’t been bound like this since the night I was taken.
Liam’s palm presses against my shoulder with astonishing strength, keeping me against the floor.
My head stays low with my eyes glued to the ground. Tears are on the brink of falling as my anxiety rages, causing my stomach to churn violently. The hand on my shoulder disappears, the once warm spot on my skin attracting a cool breeze and sending shivers down my arm.
A clicking has my head snapping to the sound.
The fear at what I may find, getting pushed back by the need to know.
To face it head on with whatever little dignity I have left.
Thankfully, it’s not a gun that created the sound, but the door latch hooking as it closes.
Liam must have left and now I’m stuck in here with my least favorite person.
Staring at his too shiny shoes and waiting to find out why I’m here.
“Why did it take so long to complete your objective?” he snaps, his voice colder than Frosty’s snow balls.
“I-I didn’t think I d-did,” I stutter in a crackly whisper.
The toe of Colt’s leather dress shoe twitches to the right, the only notice I get before the back of his hand meets my cheek and I’m sent flying to the floor. My skin burns, large welts already forming where his rings made contact.
“Do I look stupid to you, girl? I know how long you took. I watched it. It wasn’t fast enough.”
“B-But I wasn’t given any info—”
He’s on me within seconds, his hand wrapping around my throat and dragging me upwards.
I can do little to fight him, the skin of my wrists have started bleeding from the plastic withering away at them.
My shoulders burn from the constant position, and my chest heaves as I try desperately to inhale a large breath.
Spots crawl along the outside of my vision, the lack of oxygen causing a fuzzy feeling in my brain.
Right at the moment I think I’m going to pass out, he releases his grip, throwing me against the wall behind his desk.
My eyes close, my body saving any energy it can as it tries to stay conscious.
The force of me hitting the drywall shakes the picture frames, knocking a few off center, as a cracking sound reverberates through my body from my elbow.
“I don’t give a fuck about your excuses.
Time for you to learn where you belong and what happens when you spew your lies.
” Spit flies against my face, my neck jerking to recoil slightly, but I’m too exhausted to move.
Every part of my body feels broken or heavy as I lay against this wall.
Legs tucked underneath me, my head droops against my shoulder.
Maybe this will be it. Maybe this will be where I draw my last breath.
If only I was so lucky. There’s a handful of sounds in the universe to which one can identify without thought.
Sounds that are heard so often your brain doesn’t need much power to know what’s happening, and they’re different for everyone.
Depending on where you grew up or what was always around in some way.
Growing up in the city you may recognize the sound of a car backfiring or the bell over a bodega door.
The country life may have you fondly remembering wind chimes or Aunt Bessy’s prize winning chicken, clucking for seed.
For me, the sounds of the lawn mower in the summer, or the hum of the cicadas in the late spring are some of the sounds that I will always know.
Another is the distinct clink that came when my dad would get home and undo his belt after a long day.
It’s the same sound ringing through my ears at this moment, only it’s not bringing me the comfort or familiarity it used to. There are only two scenarios that come to mind hearing it, and neither I wish to experience.
“Every time I deem your performance underwhelming or inadequate. When you’re not fast enough, smart enough, sexy enough. Or I catch you lying to me in any way… you’ll report to me for punishment. Starting now.”
I feel like I’m swallowing around a rock as I peek through hooded eyelids to find his belt still attached to his pants. I’m choking on the knowledge of what’s coming and how I’ve been weakened enough to stop me from fighting back.
“Oh, I’ve waited a long time for this,” Colt snarls, his eyes piercing me with a deep-rooted hate.
One arm shoots out, his fingers clamping around my throat and jaw to pull me close, while the other sends his pants collapsing around his ankles.
His dick springs out, landing in the palm of his hand as he begins to stroke his length.
My lip is quivering without my permission, as stinging tears gather and fall from my eyes.
Letting go of my face, his hand instead moves to seize a handful of my hair, pulling with such intensity the strands are ripping from my scalp.
My neck wrenches back, and I let out a shriek, the pain of the movement fueling the burn in my shoulders.
Bending at the waist, Colt leans down pressing his cheek against mine.
His open mouth fanning warm breaths across the surface of my skin before dragging his tongue up the muscle protruding from my neck.
“Better be good now, sweetheart. Otherwise I’ll punish you again and again, until I’m satisfied with your performance,” he growls, his tone hushed and rumbling. The threat in his words is clear as they hang above me like the blade of a guillotine.
Closing my eyes and nodding once, the lump in my throat gets impossibly larger. I know he’ll follow through on that threat, I’ve seen it and felt it first hand. Which also means that with every failed “lesson” his brutality will also increase.
My head gets ripped back once again, more hairs being plucked from my skin as his hand tightens around the strands and his nails slice against my scalp. A loud yelp tears from my throat and my eyes snap open the moment he shoves his cock in my mouth to curb the scream.
My hair becomes a joystick, using his punishing grip to direct my movements and push himself deeper.
He’s not overly large, but with the strength behind his grip and the angle to which I'm pressed against the wall, he’s far enough in that I can no longer breathe.
I try to fight, to retract from him enough to at least get oxygen into my body, but it only ignites him to thrust faster, go further down my esophagus.
Eyes closed, head thrown back, his moans could be heard from down the street, as he chases his release.
“Fuck, that’s right. You take what I give you, what I allow you to have. You should be thanking me for this privilege. To please me with that pretty mouth of yours.”
My head is spinning and my body is going numb.
I’m not going to be able to stay conscious much longer as the room around me blurs into indiscernible shapes of color.
My eyes have begun to roll, my lids fluttering closed and my body going limp.
Everything that makes me… well, me is fading fast. Sight, thought, feeling, it’s all disappearing faster with every passing second.
Colt’s still thrusting violently, one hand still firm within my hair, the other against the wall.
The last thing I’m able to hear is his breath stutter and catch before everything is just… gone.
The clearing of a throat whips my thoughts back to reality and the present day.
After that night, I woke up untied and alone in my room the next afternoon.
Flakes of Colt’s crusted and dried semen fell from my chin when I rubbed at my face, and my head was pounding.
That asshole fancied having a conversation with me immediately following each mission after that.
Always nit-picking at the finer details of my performance and deciding if I passed for the night.
Reminding me of where I was flawed in my attempts.
Seduction was defined differently after that. Harsher, meaner. It no longer became a dance of lust and longing, but more so a weapon to one's demise.
“Sorry,” I murmur, realizing my savior asked me something that I completely missed. He’s still staring at me as if waiting for an answer, and my cheeks flush a little. “I must have zoned out for a moment… I guess I’m still a little shaken. What was it you asked?”
Looking up into the pale blue of his eyes, I bite at my lip. Pulling it between my teeth and clasping my hands behind my back. A few quick blinks and his face melts into a softness one would normally save for a lover.
“Just wondering what name an Angel like you has been blessed with, sweetheart,” he purrs, dropping the rest of his guard and latching on to the hints I’ve been dropping.
I trace my finger down the center of his chest, following the lines of his muscles until they dip below his waistband. Hooking the fabric with my pointer finger, I tug in a single harsh motion, pulling him right up against me.
“Mikayla,” I half whisper, holding his gaze and throwing out my lip into a pout. “And I really would like to thank you for your chivalry.”
“Oh? And how would you like to do that?”
His hand moves to my hip, while he drags the knuckles of the other against my cheek, moving a strand of hair behind my ear.
My lips curl, a mischievous grin forming on my face as I rise onto the very tips of my toes. With my palm pressed firmly against his chest for balance, I lick at his jaw and nip at his earlobe.