Cut Wide Open

Page 26

 
Chapter Thirteen Charlie
 

I wished I could say my isolation lasted, but Enrico returned. I was staring at the wall imagining what my life could’ve been like if Gunner hadn’t disappeared and he knew about our child. I’d spent endless hours going over what my life was like with him, and what it could’ve been. I’d been pouring out the juice they’d bring me with lunch and drinking water from the shower, so I’d stayed awake more often than not, thus, my suspicions about the juice being drugged were confirmed. My food was brought a while ago, and I was certain that I should be sleeping, but I wasn’t. The door opened and in walked Enrico.
My back was to the wall, but I immediately recognized the scent and curled as close to the wall as I could get.
“Ah, you’re awake. I see you figured out about the drugs. Pity, really. Those are more for your benefit than mine. Most of my toys don't like to be conscious. It’s easier that way. But trust me, I don’t mind you being alert. It’s more fun that way.”
“Fuck you,” I gritted out.
“No, dear. I plan to fuck you. Let me ask you? Did you miss me? Miss my cock in that tight little virgin ass?
“Why are you doing this to me?” I cried.
“Why does a man of my power and wealth do anything? Because I can. Plus, I got word that you’re something to someone. Let’s just say, I knew who you’d belong too, even if you didn’t know it, and I wanted you for myself. I get to have the best toys.”
The air whooshed out of my lungs. This was because of Gunner. I’d thought it, but I wasn't sure.
He sat down on the bed. I still hadn’t turned my head to look at him. His fingers trailed along the branding on my back and I shuddered at his touch.
“My mark on you makes me hard.”
“Don’t touch me,” I said with way more bravery than I really felt. The truth was, I was scared out of my mind, but I didn't want him to see that.
“You have a lot of fight. I like that.”
I heard his belt buckle and I cringed at what would come next. Before I could even plan any type of defensive move, the leather was around my throat. The buckle bit into my skin and my breath was stolen from me.
“On your stomach,” he demanded and then added, “You comply, you breathe.”
I gasped for air as he loosened the belt. I did as he said and moved to my stomach. One hand palmed my ass as the other held onto the belt strap. “Where should I fuck you? Huh? Your asshole?” His fingers moved over my tight hole. I reflexively squeezed my ass cheeks together and was met with a tug on the belt, stealing my air.
“You want your pussy instead?” he asked shoving his fingers inside of me. I wanted to scream out at the violation. My air was given back to me, but only long enough for me to suck in a lungful. I heard him spit and then his fingers were inside of me again, pushing in his saliva. Then, his dick was at my entrance and he was forcing himself inside.
Tears slid down my cheeks as he slammed in and out over and over again.
He’d loosen my leash as he thrust in, and then tightened it as he pulled out. I wasn't sure how long the assault went on for. He definitely didn't last as long as he did with the Viagra. My vision had tunneled in and out. I was so focused on breathing that by the time he was finished, and had released the belt, I barely moved as the door latched on his way out.
Sometime later, the door opened. I braced. One of his men stood at the door. And thrust out a brush and two small bottles along with a pale pink nightgown.
“Boss wants your hair taken care of.”
Once the door closed again, I didn't wait to shower. I didn't care it was what he wanted. I needed the shampoo. I needed to wash his filth from me. I reveled in the fresh scent that replaced his musky one. I rubbed my hand over my throat and could feel the burn from the leather’s bite. I let the cold water numb it and stood under the spray until I could barely feel my body. When I was finished, I picked up the pink night gown. It was silk and skimpy, but I hadn’t had clothes for a long time, so I didn't think about the implications of wearing it; the low cut lace front, or what the lace slits might mean. I only thought about the fact that I was no longer naked.
I laid down on the bed and tried to push all images of what just happened out of my mind. It was the only way I could seem to calm my racing heart. I thought about Gun, and how clumsy he was when he first learned to walk. I thought about how, one day, I would get out of this hell and I’d see him again. It wasn't an option for me not too. I needed to hold onto that. He was my whole world and I was his. I wouldn’t let him think I’d abandoned him. I know what that felt like and I loved him too much for that. I daydreamed about reuniting with my son. Eventually, I fell asleep.
When I woke again, the familiar tray with the familiar sandwich was by the door, but there was no juice. I ate, like I did every time, and used the water from the shower to wash down the peanut butter. I slipped into the routine I had been in, and after I ate, I dropped to the ground and did push-ups. My arms, despite the fact that I had little food, were strong. I’d put my energy into my workout and kept my mind off of the fact that Enrico would probably be back. Sometime into my third set of sit-ups, the silky material against my skin started to feel different. It was as if a thousand soft threads were brushing up against my legs.
My heart was fluttering and my mood seemed like it was changing. I didn't feel like I had, for however long I’d been here. Everything around me felt vibrant. As I continued to move, I realized that my nipples were now straining against the material of the nightgown. It was all I could do to get at them and tug. What was wrong with me? I felt hot and cold all at once. My skin prickled. The door opened, and I was sitting on the floor playing with my nipples. I didn't even stop because it felt so good. I paid no attention to whomever was. I finally felt something other than isolated agony, and my mind clung to the blissful sensation.
“I see Molly’s working her charm.”
Enrico stood in front of me. I knew I should be afraid, but for some reason, I couldn't grasp that emotion. He dropped a duffle bag on the cot and ordered me up. I didn't listen, so he grabbed me, making me stand, and then sat me down on the bed.
“Do you feel good?” he asked.
I nodded dreamily.
“Open your mouth. This will make you feel even better,” he ordered and I complied. A small pill was placed in my mouth. I felt good and I wanted to feel better.