Prologue
Amy
No.
The word had always seemed so powerful.
But not here.
The tears came despite my best efforts, a ragged release of adrenaline as I held onto the door handle for dear life.
The old brute merely yanked harder at the chain until the tight leather cuff began to choke me.
I screamed for help, the same gurgled string of obscenities as every other night. This night, as every other, my pleas went unanswered.
“Come on, girl. You know he doesn’t like to wait.”
“Stop!” I wheezed. “Please!”
“I haven’t got time for this.”
I clawed at the collar, desperate for air, but the brute just used the opportunity to topple me from my feet. He dragged me along a few paces, ignorant of the burn of naked flesh against the carpet. I struggled to my knees, reeling against his efforts, but I was so tired. Long nights with little sleep and even less food were taking their toll. My body was aching and beaten. I didn’t need a mirror to know the welts were still raised on my back, I could still feel every single one.
Sometimes I wished I could submit, accept my fate and beg for mercy.
Sometimes I wished I could stay quiet and let Alistair have his way with me without the onslaught of my vicious tongue.
Sometimes I wished I was dead already.
But today I still had fight in me.
The corridor seemed shorter than usual, the battle for ground up in no time. The old brute gave me a final yank until I was on my knees in front of Prince Charming, handing over my chain before I could make another dash for it. Alistair had a smirk on his face.
A horrible smirk.
His cock was already in his hand as he stared down at me. He hacked up a fresh load of spit and slathered it on.
“What’s it going to be?” he leered. “Are you going to play nice this evening or are you still learning your fucking manners?”
“Fuck you,” I hissed. “Just fuck you.”
He laughed a horrible laugh. “No, bitch. Fuck you. ” He took a step forward, standing over me with his flabby thighs pressed together. “Open wide, my sweet little slut. Open wide and show me you want me.”
Never.
If looks could kill he’d be a dead man a hundred times over.
I gave him the middle finger, and I was laughing, an unhinged sound I didn’t recognize as myself. His lips pressed in a mean little line.
“Last chance, Amy. Open that pretty little mouth for me like a good girl.”
“Fuck you.”
Alistair was so much stronger than the old man. With one strong pull of the chain I was up on my feet and being hoisted on my tiptoes. I gasped for breath as he wrapped my binds around a hook, holding me in position as I fought for breath.
“Bad girl,” he said. “Bad fucking girl. You did this to yourself.”
I closed my eyes as the whip came down.
Chapter One
Robert
I came through the Customs gates with a scowl and a simmering ache of temper crouched just behind my eyes. The airport was filled with bedraggled travelers who had all made the flight from Europe. They milled in small groups and stretched weary bodies. I walked through them, stiff-limbed with my jaw clenched until I saw the familiar face of the man waiting beyond the glass doors of the terminal.
Fresh cool night air washed over me, the sounds of the distant city carried on the breeze. I stood for a moment and took a deep calming breath. The man came through the crowd of people and pressed his hand into mine.
“Good to see you again, Bobby,” he smiled. “Welcome back.”
I shot the man a withering glare. Suddenly he had become the focus of my irritation. “I’m not back,” I snapped.
The smile on the man’s face faltered then slid from his lips. His eyes went dull and dark. He handed me a set of car keys.
“Ferrari?”
The man nodded. “It’s parked out front of the airport.” His tone sounded stung, as if my words had slapped him.
“Good.” I slipped the keys into the pocket of my jeans and glanced at my watch, trying to figure the time
Amy
No.
The word had always seemed so powerful.
But not here.
The tears came despite my best efforts, a ragged release of adrenaline as I held onto the door handle for dear life.
The old brute merely yanked harder at the chain until the tight leather cuff began to choke me.
I screamed for help, the same gurgled string of obscenities as every other night. This night, as every other, my pleas went unanswered.
“Come on, girl. You know he doesn’t like to wait.”
“Stop!” I wheezed. “Please!”
“I haven’t got time for this.”
I clawed at the collar, desperate for air, but the brute just used the opportunity to topple me from my feet. He dragged me along a few paces, ignorant of the burn of naked flesh against the carpet. I struggled to my knees, reeling against his efforts, but I was so tired. Long nights with little sleep and even less food were taking their toll. My body was aching and beaten. I didn’t need a mirror to know the welts were still raised on my back, I could still feel every single one.
Sometimes I wished I could submit, accept my fate and beg for mercy.
Sometimes I wished I could stay quiet and let Alistair have his way with me without the onslaught of my vicious tongue.
Sometimes I wished I was dead already.
But today I still had fight in me.
The corridor seemed shorter than usual, the battle for ground up in no time. The old brute gave me a final yank until I was on my knees in front of Prince Charming, handing over my chain before I could make another dash for it. Alistair had a smirk on his face.
A horrible smirk.
His cock was already in his hand as he stared down at me. He hacked up a fresh load of spit and slathered it on.
“What’s it going to be?” he leered. “Are you going to play nice this evening or are you still learning your fucking manners?”
“Fuck you,” I hissed. “Just fuck you.”
He laughed a horrible laugh. “No, bitch. Fuck you. ” He took a step forward, standing over me with his flabby thighs pressed together. “Open wide, my sweet little slut. Open wide and show me you want me.”
Never.
If looks could kill he’d be a dead man a hundred times over.
I gave him the middle finger, and I was laughing, an unhinged sound I didn’t recognize as myself. His lips pressed in a mean little line.
“Last chance, Amy. Open that pretty little mouth for me like a good girl.”
“Fuck you.”
Alistair was so much stronger than the old man. With one strong pull of the chain I was up on my feet and being hoisted on my tiptoes. I gasped for breath as he wrapped my binds around a hook, holding me in position as I fought for breath.
“Bad girl,” he said. “Bad fucking girl. You did this to yourself.”
I closed my eyes as the whip came down.
Chapter One
Robert
I came through the Customs gates with a scowl and a simmering ache of temper crouched just behind my eyes. The airport was filled with bedraggled travelers who had all made the flight from Europe. They milled in small groups and stretched weary bodies. I walked through them, stiff-limbed with my jaw clenched until I saw the familiar face of the man waiting beyond the glass doors of the terminal.
Fresh cool night air washed over me, the sounds of the distant city carried on the breeze. I stood for a moment and took a deep calming breath. The man came through the crowd of people and pressed his hand into mine.
“Good to see you again, Bobby,” he smiled. “Welcome back.”
I shot the man a withering glare. Suddenly he had become the focus of my irritation. “I’m not back,” I snapped.
The smile on the man’s face faltered then slid from his lips. His eyes went dull and dark. He handed me a set of car keys.
“Ferrari?”
The man nodded. “It’s parked out front of the airport.” His tone sounded stung, as if my words had slapped him.
“Good.” I slipped the keys into the pocket of my jeans and glanced at my watch, trying to figure the time
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