I Thee Take (To Have And To Hold Duet #2) - Natasha Knight Page 0,74

Before the knife is forced so deep in his stomach, I feel the soft, mushy insides against my hand.

I thrust deeper, getting close enough to hold him upright, one hand around his arm, my body pressing his to the door.

His eyes have gone wide, his hand frozen on its way to reaching for his weapon.

I twist once more, feel his full weight on me as his knees buckle. A choked sound comes from his throat before a trail of blood seeps from the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck,” Dante says from behind me.

I pull the blade out, wipe it on the man’s shirt as Dante catches his other arm.

“What about getting in, getting Scarlett and getting out?” he asks as we drag the man’s heavy body to the bathroom.

“Fuck that.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that? Because you want an army coming after us?”

“Because I’m going to kill every mother fucker in this place before I walk out tonight.”

We drop him in the bathroom. Dante looks at me. He grins. “We’re going to kill every mother fucker in this place. We, Brother.”

44

Scarlett

The chains that bind my wrists to my ankles are removed and my arms are stretched overhead, bound to a metal rung on the headboard. I’m flipped onto my stomach, the cuffs clanging as I’m tugged downward. The link that hobbled me is also removed. My legs are pulled apart, stretched to either corner of the bed and linked to the rungs there.

The two men responsible for preparing me, stand back and look down at me. One tugs the pillow out from under my head and shoves it beneath my belly. He nods, meets my eyes and cups his erection.

“I’ll take your ass when it’s my turn,” he says in Spanish. “Save me a piece.”

I spit at him.

He slaps my ass.

“Hey,” the other soldier interrupts and points to the corner where I see one of those flashing red lights again. The camera is hidden but the soldiers know about it. They must be Felix’s men. “After.”

The man glances at the blinking light, nods then returns his attention to me. “If there’s anything left.”

They walk out but don’t close the door. Instead, they stand in the hall looking at me as one lights a cigarette. I tug at my restraints but it’s no use. I already know that.

Cigarette smoke wafts in from the hallway. I twist my neck to look toward the door, as the sound of another man, one with a hoarse voice and a heavy Russian accent floats into the room. It makes me think of Petrov. Of Mara.

But honestly, it’s hard not to think about myself now. Maybe I should have accepted the pill from the bitch downstairs. Killed myself before they could have their fun.

I close my eyes and steel myself, or try to, as the voices grow closer. I know the man is standing just outside the door. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to. I can imagine the view.

They speak for a few minutes before I hear the door close and the man sighs deeply.

“A pretty gift,” he says as the bed dips beneath his weight. He puts a hand on my hip.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss, tugging away the inch I’m able to.

“Oh, I will do more than touch you,” he says, standing again, taking off his jacket. He tosses it over the back of a chair. He doesn’t bother taking off his shirt. He just opens his belt, then the crotch of his pants. He fists himself.

I look at it, at his little dick barely visible under his grotesque belly, how it practically disappears in the palm of his hand. I grin, blink, and shift my gaze back up to his.

“Is that all?” I ask. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it. “I’m not sure I’ll even feel that.”

His hand stops moving. He releases his dick to grab a fistful of my hair and tug my head back painfully. “I’ll pay extra to cut out your tongue once your mouth is used up.”

“Be careful. Your dick is going flaccid.”

He pushes my face into the pillow, smothering me. I fight as oxygen is cut off. I feel him climb onto the bed, feel the rough fabric of his pants brush the insides of my legs.

Just when I think I’ll pass out, he releases my head and I gasp for breath. His hands are on my ass spreading me open.

“No!”

“Pretty little pussy you have here. Prettier than your mouth.”

“Please!” I beg. I

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