9
RAGE WAS THE FIRST EMOTION I ever felt. It was hot lava, bubbling up from the deep-dark hole inside my chest. It boiled over, covering everything in my path. If people feared me before; I earned my nickname El Diablo after she fled.
I tore my whole damn boat apart. Lined up the crew grilling them one by one. I give Bree credit; she didn’t crack. But I am a cruel bastard, hurting people is what I do for a living. One phone call to her old DOM, Dimitri, was all it took. I sent the chopper for him. Later, I watched dispassionately as I smoked my cigar while he fucked the answer from her lips, leaving her spent by his feet begging him to return her love.
I felt nothing as he walked out on her, ignoring her sobs that made her full-rack covered by his release, bounce.
Bree helped my dove escape.
“What about her punishment?” I had asked Dimitri as his hand was on the door.
“Do you want to do it?”
“No. The only woman I touch now is my own.”
“Leaving her broken-hearted is punishment enough.” I shrugged at his answer, taking another puff from the Cuban dangling from my lips.
“Crawl to me,” he demanded.
She went, like the starved sub she was for any crumb he’d offer.
“Turn around, ass up high. Count it out.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“This is for breaking the rules and for thinking this was more than it was.”
The loud smack of his hand on her ass made me hard. I itched to do the same thing to my dove; wanted to see the imprint of my hand on her cheeks. I’d smack that ass over and over until it burned raw as if the sun blistered it. Then I'd watch as my dick snuck between her crack to find her secret channel burning wet for me. I’d glide into her heaven; pound it out while my eyes would be glued to her blistered backside watching my dick go in and out.
Fuck.
I unzipped my pants, stroked my shaft, all the while watching Dimitri and Bree, imagining it was my dove and me.
“Christ,” I breathed coming in quick spurts just as Dimitri landed smack number twenty on Bree’s blistered cheeks that just started to bleed.
His hoarse shout echoed in the room as his come and her blood dripped on the floor.
“That was bloody fantastic,” Dimitri moaned as he zipped himself back up. “Don’t ever contact me again. I have a new sub now, Bree.”
He walked out without a backward glance. I stood up, bent over and echoed his words, taking her quivering chin in my palm, “that was bloody fantastic, Bree. Don’t ever cross me again. You work for me. I own you.”
“You-you’re not firing me?”
“No. Alex favors you. Get yourself cleaned-up and back to work. Capísé?”
“Yes, sir.”
My answer was the click of the door shut behind me. My little bird didn’t fly. She was hiding somewhere close by. I had my guy watch hours of security tape. We had her walking down the dock into town, but she never appeared on the bus, train or airport security tapes.
Four days.
She’s been gone four days. I vowed to have her back by day seven. I walked through the deserted halls of my yacht. I terrified everyone on board, even my men. Whistling, with my hands in my pockets, I climbed up the steps to the top deck to the same spot where she vaulted from me on the first night we met. The lights from the hills of Capri sparkled across the bay. “I’m going to find you little dove and when I do—I’ll turn your every dream into a nightmare with no escape.”
I hated my obsession with her. Wanted to punish her for it. Wanted to fuck and bleed her out of my system. But my hand still reached for the bottle of pills in my pocket, my mouth opened and swallowed the white miracle pill. My eyes shut as it went down, wondering when and if the lights inside my soul would ever turn on.
“Sir?” Sara stopped me in the hall. “There’s a call for you on the sat phone.”
I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the bridge; ripped open the door and grabbed the sat phone from Stavros’ hands.
“Did you find her?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, breathing hard.
“Not yet. But I did find the guy who drugged her. He’s Franco Donatelli’s son, Dante.”
Fuck.
Donatelli is mafia. A mean-old mother-fucker whose son just tried to take what’s mine. There’s no way I’m not going to break his fucking face. Even the Italian mob knows better than to fuck with El Diablo.
I might be a monster, but I’ve never drugged or forced a woman. My dark game is much different. I don’t need drugs to sleep with my prey. I use my words, my mouth, my hands—playing every dirty trick there is to win their minds. It’s the consent that turns me on. Jessie is stubborn. Seducing her mind and body until she begs for my cock again is the number one thing on my to-do list.
Work can wait. Crumbling financial empires will survive another day. But hunting down my dove’s would be rapist and breaking his fucking face—can’t.
Jin waited silently for his orders. “Do it. Nab him. Bring him to the docks where the cargo ships unload. I’ll be waiting. I’m taking the Heli.”
I ended the call without waiting for a reply. Stavros stared straight ahead, accustomed to doing his job and pretending he doesn’t see jack shit. I wanted to race back to Capri after I searched this entire boat for two straight days.
But I’m not a dog running after his master, even though thoughts of her… of what we shared, consumed my every waking moment. My fist punched the fiberglass wall. How the fuck did an American woman a decade younger than me turn the tide? I still can’t believe she had the audacity to tie me to my own damn bed. My little dove has more gumption than I ever realized. I won’t let my guard down around her ever again.
I didn’t bother packing a bag. Right then, the only thing that could curb my rage was punishing Dante.
“Do you know who I am?”
The kid was strung up. Jin had found an abandoned warehouse, broke the lock and tied up every limb on Dante’s body.
I puffed on my cigar, as I strolled in. “I think you got that wrong. Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“My father’s going to kill you.”
“I don’t think so, malaka.”
I let the cigar dangle from my lips, as I removed my favorite pair of cufflinks, and rolled up the cuffs of my shirt on each arm to my elbows. The knife I always carry in my pocket gleamed in the light as I opened the blade.
“They call me El Diablo.”
His eyes widened, he tried to hide his fear as I walked closer.
“What do you want with me? My father’s the DON and I know we don’t conduct any business with you.”
I pointed the tip of the blade into his chest, right above his beating heart.
“Ah, you are correct. This is all about you. Tell me, do you like frequenting the discos downtown? Bueno Notte, perhaps?
His face paled.
“You attempted to take what was mine.”
“Who? Which one?” He didn’t even bother to deny anything.
“Glykia mou, my golden one.”
“American?”
I let my blade fall to his groin, “will you ever use this again? Do you deserve to Dante?”
He answered by pissing himself.
I could’ve just stridden in and used him as a punching bag, but what’s the fun in that? I stepped back as the river of piss hit the concrete floor.
“Do you enjoy drugging women? You get off, fucking their semi-conscious bodies, eh? So, what’s a fitting punishment? What do you think?”
“You’re no fucking saint. Everyone knows about El Diablo…not all your women keep their mouths or legs shut when you’re done with them.”
I backhanded him across the mouth. “You don’t know jack-fuck about me you wanker. I’ve never forced a woman to want to belong to me. Obviously, you lack any of those talents. So, here’s what we are going to do. We know of at least five women you targeted. You are going to transfer five-hundred-thousand euros into their bank accounts and then get the fuck out of Capri.”
“I can’t, my father—”
I backhanded him again. “Your father granted me permission to feed you to the fucking fishes, if I wanted. You see, even he knows better than to fuck with me.”
I ripped his shirt open with my bare hands, took the sharp tip of my knife and carved my name into his pathetically puny chest. He screamed in agony as I used my knife like a pen and carved the words, EL DIABLO, on his chest. The blood dripped from the letters and the coppery smell of it filled my nostrils mixing with the piss on the floor.
But it wasn’t enough.
My rage that this skinny asshole almost took my dove, still fueled me. She needed avenging; her and every other woman this sick fuck touched. And that says a lot; since I’m the president of the sick-fuck club.
“Are you right or left-handed?”
He hesitated, then finally answered, “left.” His hesitation gave him away.
“You can’t lie to the devil.” I reached out, cut his right wrist free and held it down flat on a nearby table. Then, I held up my blade striking down hard and fast.
“FUUCCCKKKKKK!!!!” He cried, screamed, fell against the ropes in agony as my blade drove deep, severing bone, skewering him to the table. Then I let go of the handle, punching his stomach with left and right-hooks.
Finally, the beast felt satisfied.
“Take him a few miles out and drop him overboard. Let him try to swim to shore. Who knows, he might make it, if the sharks don’t get him first,” I said to Jin, who was standing in the corner watching the entire time. He nodded and moved forward.
Without a backward glance at Dante, I walked out only stopping to wash my hands in the stank bathroom with rusty leaking pipes. I thoroughly washed my hands, shook them dry, then methodically unrolled my sleeves, took my cufflinks out of my pocket and fastened them back on.
I held my own eyes in the mirror. Maybe I wasn’t as heartless as I always believed. I let him live. I avenged her. These are things people with a conscience do. Maybe those pills have already started working? Either way, I’m still going to hunt for my dove and punish her for leaving me.
I sought the familiar. Found my way to a youth hostel that charged twenty-five US dollars a night. With my faded backpack over one shoulder, I made my way down the cheap tiled floor to a room with three bunk beds and a shared bath.
Two Danish friends who were backpacking and fucking their way through Europe slept on the opposite bunks.
I showered for hours. Tried to wash away the memories of what I did with him. But it didn’t work, for after I washed his smell and seed from me, the bruises appeared. I was marked with his handprint. Other places showed the imprints of his thumbs or the scrape of his teeth. He sucked his way down my neck to my breasts leaving bruised love bites in his wake.
I hated him. Hated myself even more.
So why did I spend five nights huddled under the thin blanket, rubbing my slick folds, pinching my nipples—reliving every second of our night together?
The cheap bunk squeaked under my wriggling hips, the smell of my desire filled the small room. I never left, not even to eat. But stayed huddled, sleeping during the day and making myself come every night, while listening to the two blondes giggle about the men they met that night.
Finally, when the bruises turned from dark to light purple, I got up, dressed and walked to the nearest café.
Surely, Christos was looking for me elsewhere by now. I leisurely sat under the hot sun, my eyes covered by dark sunglasses, drank rich Italian espresso and ate buttered croissants. Pondered my future, but soon realized, I hated myself for liking what I had done. Remembered we kissed just as passionately as we fucked. I closed my eyes, crossing my legs hard—still hearing the whispered words in Greek he nuzzled against my ear as he thrust in and out of me.
E wasn’t my drug. He was. I’m in withdrawal. One hit was all it took to get hooked. I just need more time to forget the feel of him, I lied to myself.
I walked back to the hostel, knowing I needed to find another job and return to the land of the living. My cell phone was dead and off for days. In my haste to escape Christos, I had forgotten to my charger. “Do you mind if I borrow your phone charger?”
My roommate shrugged, took a drag of her cigarette and gestured for me to take it. I plugged mine in, and it turned on after a few minutes.
After spending nearly a week in this small, stank room—I suddenly couldn’t breathe. So, I left my phone to charge and laced up my sneakers. A hike up the famous cliffs above Capri would surely clear my head. The air, thick with salt and the smell of brewing coffee, helped pull me out of the self-imposed funk that I let myself wallow in for days. With a ball cap pulled low over my eyes and my golden hair hidden underneath, I walked down cobblestone streets past couples enjoying their mid-morning stroll. Hand-in-hand many walked oblivious to the woman walking past them with haunted eyes and a wounded soul. I didn’t know how to get rid of the self-loathing. I was never big on drinking or drugs…but I needed a way to release the poison in my blood. The stain of him was all over me, like an invisible cloak.
I reached the entrance to a cliff path, uncaring of the sweat dripping down between the blades of my back. I climbed higher and higher under the hot Italian sun, pondering my next move, wishing I could just be the girl I was ten days ago.
My legs burned as I placed one tired foot in front of the other. When I finally reached the peak, I sat down on the rocky terrain overlooking the harbor, knowing why. Why I hated the world in that moment—I wasn’t who I thought I was. I wanted everything I had done with the devil and even worse—I wanted more. I tried to hide from it by staying in bed for a week. But I can’t hide from the truth anymore. I’ll never be his sub, but I wanted the hard, rough sex we shared. Sex never felt so good. I know I was on E, but also admit even before all that, I secretly wanted him.
Finally, with that self-admission, I sat in the hot sun, making peace with it. So what if I’m not the fun-loving tomboy I was labeled as in my teen years? Maybe I don’t have a clue who I am. Like puzzle pieces snapping into place, it all started to make sense; my constant need for adventure, dropping out of Cal State, refusing to be molded into the country club wife my mother yearned for me to be.
With a sigh, I stood up, dusted off my palms where tiny pebbles stuck to my sweat coated skin. I knew for certain I was a full-blooded woman who knew what it felt like to be fucked into submission. Surprisingly, I didn’t find it dirty or demeaning like I thought. No—Christos was right. I want and crave more of it, but it doesn’t have to be with him. Maybe I need to find a man who is rough and adventurous in bed, but who’s regular in every other sense, especially when it comes to having a normal relationship.
I sighed, walked down the rocky path on jellied legs, remembering my ex, Warren. I missed the intimacy we shared. The long walks on the beach and snuggle sessions on the couch, while we binge watched old shows on Netflix. We used to take turns cooking and laughed at how awful some of the meals had turned out. I don’t miss him, per se, but I miss that. I can’t picture Christos as the type of man who would enjoy any of those things. Hell, I doubt he even has any hobbies that don’t include dark dungeons with an arsenal of sex toys.
I was so busy in my musings that I didn’t notice the Mercedes SUV with tinted windows parked alongside the curb outside the youth hostel until I heard the voice that haunts my dreams—turning them into nightmares.
“Ah, so my little dove thought she would fly…how do you Americans say it? The coup?”
Stunned, quivering, and shell-shocked—his presence was a jolt to my system. I was afraid to raise my eyes, that he’d witness the need in them warring with the fear in my heart.
“H-how did you find me?” I finally stammered.
He reached into the pocket of his expensive trousers, pulling my cell phone out, holding it head high. “Tracker app. Very effective, glykiá mou, at finding lost little birds. I had a chance to install it on your phone when you were tied up in my bed, begging for me to fuck you. One, two, three, four, is hardly a secure passcode. Thank you for finally charging it.”
“Bastard,” I breathed. “Give it to me!” I lunged, jumping up trying to snatch my phone from his grasp, but all I ended up doing was put myself in the circle of his arms as they wrapped around my waist like steel bands. “Be a good girl, and get in the car,” he murmured against my ear. He opened his mouth, letting his teeth scrape down the side of my neck.
“Never!” My hands came up to his chest, trying to break free of his hold.
“I’ve heard you say that before…” His lips nibbled at my ear, “this isn’t finished between us, and you know it.” His arms tightened. He caught his prize and wasn’t letting go.
“There’s no need to finish…what never started.”
“There you go with that word again. Get in, or your punishment will be worse than what I’ve already planned.” He spun me around, pressing me back against the front of his body. His hard cock nudged my ass. I was weak, remembering how it felt pounding into me, but my flight instinct finally kicked in. I knew it was time to run.
“Let me go!” I yelled, attempting to elbow him in the stomach and stomp on his instep like I learned in the self-defense class I took years earlier.
“Never.” His throaty laugh danced along the nape of my neck, my traitorous body was rejoicing at the feel of his muscular one imprinted against my back, the nudging of his hard hips against my backside making my core soft and wet for her master. His fingers skated down my bared midriff, uncaring at the stares we were receiving. I closed my eyes, lost in the feel of being in his embrace as the smell of his aftershave and manliness washed over me. I bit my lip swaying at the visceral need coursing through me to just give in, stop fighting the insane pull between us and let go. Give in to the devil for as long as he wants; my principles be damned.
He started walking backwards, holding me in his arms. His meaty henchman already had a large palm holding the back door open while my backpack sat at his feet.
“Help! Help Me! He’s kidnapping me!” I screamed until I was turned around fast and his brutal lips silenced the rest of my pleas. His hands caught mine as I beat against his chest. I tried to tip my head back, but I couldn’t because he maneuvered me against the side of the car in one swift move. His kiss was punishing, unlike the carnal dueling of tongues, we shared before.
When he finally lifted his head, so we could breathe I muttered, “I thought you didn’t kiss on the mouth?”
“I don’t. There’s something about you that makes me want to break all of my own rules.”
“Lucky me.”
He smiled sardonically forcing me into the backseat. “No little dove. Lucky me.”
As soon as the door shut, his driver sped off, I thought he’d take me back to his lair on top of the cliffs, but instead, we drove along the coast until we reached another town against the sea. I sat as far away from him as I could. His lips twitched, for once his eyes shone where there had been no light before. My discomfort and distaste for him only making it shine brighter.
“Where are we?”
“Ravello.”
I sank further against the cool leather seat in defeat. He has me. In every way, and according to the smirk plastered on his face; he knows it.
The car drove to the base of the dock. The engine turned off, but I refused to move.
“Look at me.”
Shutting my eyes, trying to prevent the tears brimming like a pool against my closed lids, I held my breath, knowing I was at the edge of a cliff with no way out but to jump and hope the fall doesn’t shatter me into a million broken pieces.
He grabbed my chin; I felt the pad of his finger swiping a tear that escaped. “What are you so afraid of when we’ve already been together?”
“You. I’m afraid of you.”
He sighed as I opened my eyes, his hand fell from my face as he gazed past me, dark eyes lost in the clear blue sea, “you should be. And I can’t…won't even apologize for the things I’m going to do to you. It’s just my nature—who I am. Who I always was.”
“Can-can you just talk to me? Help me understand who you are?”
His dark eyes finally cut to mine. “You already know who I am. The devil—the man who will own you—body and soul, until I say you are free. But be prepared, little dove—the high of you is something I’ve never experienced before, and I can’t ever picture wanting to let that go.”
“It’s not too late. Change your mind. Why…why didn’t anyone help me in Capri when I was begging for help?”
“Because they saw the same thing I did. You’re already mine.” He grabbed my hand, gently stroked the inside of my wrist, speaking in low tones. “Why? Why did you want it to be me to rescue you from your would-be-rapist at the club? You even admitted that night it could’ve only been me. It’s natural to fight what you’re afraid of little one. And you should be afraid, but you also know deep down inside that you belong with me. It’s…I knew it too when I saw your photograph. You captured me, dove. And yet here you sit, pouting at being taken my prisoner.”
I couldn’t utter a word. For he was right.
My cell was lighting up in my hand.
But fuck work. I hit ignore as my PA’s name flashed across the screen. When Jin phoned me, telling me he found her. I walked right out of a contract negotiation my firm’s been working on for weeks, and started making plans to catch my runaway pet.
Elation was the second emotion to flood through my body. It rushed over me in a wave so strong—it rocked me back on my heels when my phone pinged, showing my dove’s exact location. Now, here she was. Hating me with every breath she took, but wanting me at the same time.
She was perfect. Her head was bent, lips pursed as she finally spoke. “I hate that you are stealing the choice from me. I came halfway around the world to be free, not be imprisoned.”
“Ah, sweeting, you are even more dramatic than me, and my excuse is being part Greek. I’ll hurt you, but it’ll be good. So good for the two of us.” My cock twitched just picturing all the ways I was going to do it, too.
She sucked in a breath; it whistled through the small gap between her front teeth. I wanted my cock there. Against her full lips, feeling the sharp scrape of her again, she sucked me better than anyone I’ve ever had that night we fucked like there was no tomorrow.
“I wished…hoped…you’d never find me.”
“Liar.” My fingers traced the vein on the inside of her wrist, “Admit it. You dreamed of me. Dreamed of this,” I took her hand, placing it on my dick that was tenting in my pants. I hissed. Her touch felt so fucking good even with two layers of expensive cloth separating her from my bare flesh.
“Stop thinking. Just feel. Who cares why? This…this sexual pull between us is the most honest thing in the whole fucking world. I’ve seen enough to promise you that.”
“I ripped up the agreement you forced me to sign.”
“I don’t need it now. In case you were confused, you’ve been officially kidnapped.”
“I didn’t miss that part.”
A flicker of something awoke in me. My lips started to twitch but before I could form a laugh, whatever feeling was there extinguished.
My god. I almost laughed? A real laugh. She is a miracle. My miracle. No one will take her from me. Ever.
Her back was turned to me the entire car ride to Ravello. Her back was stiff, her hand white, as she gripped the door handle anxiously waiting for any chance to escape her fate. But she won’t escape ever again. I left Alex to enjoy his last few weeks of freedom on the Oasis and secured a smaller yacht here in Ravello. A yacht that doesn’t require a crew. Equipped with the latest satellite technology and outfitted to my tastes; it’s the perfect cage for my dove. She’ll be stuck in my sexual prison, forced to meet my every demand, with no escape.
I was forced to shift in my seat, grimacing as my aching cock unfurled in my pants. He remembered her slick heat and wanted back in. Theos, so did I. My hand itched to yank her by the hair, forcing her to face me. But I resisted the impulse by closing my fist around the small bottle of pills carefully tucked inside the pocket of my pants.
“Why? Why me?” She whispered with her nose pressed to the glass window.
I didn’t answer. How could I explain the monster I am, when I don’t even understand myself?
I took my hands out of my pockets, placing them on my bouncing knees. I’d spent over a week planning every which way I was going to punish her, and I couldn’t wait to get started.
The car pulled up to the dock, and I practically sprang out, rounding to the other side. I ripped her door open and held out my hand, “Come, little dove.” Her reluctance, the smell of her fear mixed with the sweet tang of her arousal made me more insane than I already was. She sat huddled against the side of the car I had just exited, desperate to put space between us. But soon my dick will be buried inside her sweet cunt, and no space will separate our flesh as our sweat mixes, gluing us together.
Fuck yeah.
I wanted her now.
Her punishment and training can wait, my balls full of thick seed couldn’t.
I bent my head, the top half of my body reaching inside. She unfurled her fist, punched me in the face, then made a break for it. She was a hot little piece, with blood on fire. And I wanted her to burn for me.
I tore after her, but she was faster than I thought. Her athletic, lithe frame darted in-between honking cars and workers pedaling bikes.
My expensive Italian loafers pounded on the hot pavement, I extended my hand, snagging her around the waist. We were both panting, breathing hard, I pressed my mouth to her ear, let her feel my monster of a cock straining against my pants as my arms tightened around her waist, drawing her back against me. “You like this don’t you? The thrill of getting caught?”
My tongue swirled down the beating pulse in her neck, eyes drawn to her pointy nipples, visible through her cheap tank top.
“Give yourself to me. Let go and just stop fighting what years of your culture has brainwashed you into believing.”
“And what is that?” She panted.
“That it makes a woman a slut for wanting this.” I grabbed my throbbing dick. “That is makes her a whore to want a thick cock stretching every hole until it’s full of a man’s seed. Let me. Let me make you my dirty whore. Will you whore for me, sweet dove? Let me watch as you touch yourself while moaning my name? Would you let another man rub that needy little clit while another sucked on these sweet tits? Maybe even let a woman’s soft flesh press against yours? Two needy cunts, giving each other pleasure as I watch?” I asked, moving my hands up to pluck the tiny buds, rolling them between my fingers.”
“Ah,” she cried as my pinch became hard.
“Never mind. I don’t need an answer. You’ll do it all—exactly how I say.”
She was silent, still in my arms and I almost heard the churning of the thoughts in her head. “I saw my file.”
“I know.”
“Do you own the bank that holds my parents’ mortgage?”
“So, what if I do?” I shrugged. “It has nothing to do with this.” My hand suddenly left her nipples and dove straight past the waistband of her running shorts. I hissed, feeling her burning silk folds, fingers sliding through them circling her clit before curving to enter her, wiggling back and forth. It was a lover’s caress; a tease…a flash of pleasure before I brought the pain. One hand wrapped around her waist like a vise as the hand buried in her pussy took it prisoner. I grabbed that clit hard. Pressed as if I was trying to crush it. She cried, and I pressed harder. “Make another sound, and I’ll make it hurt more.”
She whimpered as I lessened my hold on her bud only to begin fingering her behind a parked van, in broad daylight.
“Are you going to walk down the dock and board my boat or do you need more persuading?” I asked sweetly, swirling my fingers lightly through her folds, knowing the sweet caress was just behind the searing pain signals traveling through her central nervous system until they reached her brain.
“You won’t break me,” she finally replied.
“You please me, little dove. More than anyone else ever has, and we’ve only just begun.” I withdrew my hand, twisted her around and captured her lips. My tongue coaxed hers until my kiss became demanding. I was telling her everything I wanted with one brutal kiss. I would be sweet, I’d be hard, and I’d always be her master.