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CHAPTER21
Katie was standing in the kitchen, not having a clue what to do. Antonio hadn’t spoken much to her. She’d been here for days, her lucidity returning with each day.
She now knew what he was and how she’d gotten here.
She could remember everything.
He was a killer, a trafficker of women, and he’d targeted her, taking Cassie and others along for the ride, simply because she’d been their friend.
She couldn’t escape. She didn’t even know where she was, only that it was a Spanish-speaking country, she thought. And those took up a quarter of the fucking globe. She could be anywhere.
The door slammed open with a bang and Antonio was there, a wild look in his eyes.
He strode toward her, speaking as he moved.
“Fight me or fuck me, but make it look good.” His hand at his belt was alarming and he pulled the belt as he moved, a snapping sound ripping through the air.
Before his words made any sense, he had the belt looped through her hands, behind her back, and she was bent over the table.
He ripped her pants, tugging them down.
His feet kicked hers apart and the next thing she knew, his cock was at her entrance and his door slammed open again. One of his hands fisted in her hair, while the other held the belt around her hands.
Two men stood at the door, watching the tableau they’d stormed in on.
She didn’t have to make anything look good. Katie was terrified as Antonio slammed into her on a roar.
“You’ve been teasing me, holding out on me, but no longer. You are mine.” He growled the words at her back, and she wasn’t sure if he even knew the other men were here.
Humiliation filled her and she pulled her eyes away from the men at the door. She slammed her forehead onto the tabletop, refusing to look at them as they watched her.
More of her clothing was ripped and fell away in tatters as Antonio slammed himself into her.
Rough.
Hard.
Dry.
The pain was made easier by the warmth of his body over hers, his hips slapping into her ass, but still. She hated every second of this.
In spite of herself, she could feel the heat spreading, the moisture.
Her body was actually enjoying this.
She hated herself.
Memories of the night together ripped through her brain, his power, the way he effortlessly manipulated her body, the orgasms he’d torn from her willing flesh.
Apparently, her flesh remembered. He slammed into her, repeatedly muttering curses in English and Spanish under his breath. He sounded as tortured as she felt, even as his balls slapped against her clit, his cock hitting her G-spot. He tightened the belt on her wrists, using his other hand to tug on her hair. The stinging sensation shot straight to her core, and a low moan escaped her.
Traitorous body.
She sobbed as she felt herself coming. It turned to another panting moan.
Nononono.
She didn’t want this. But she couldn’t stop the fiery orgasm that ripped through her, right before Antonio pushed deep inside her with a roar, freezing, trembling as he emptied himself.
He slapped her hard on her ass before he muttered, “Go clean yourself.” Then he tossed her to the floor, still quaking.
She managed to stumble into the bathroom and started the shower, just to drown out the noises of the men outside.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she wanted to see the woman who had betrayed her. The woman who had enjoyed the pillaging of her own body. The woman who seemed to enjoy this killer.
On a whim, she opened the medicine cabinet, seeing multiple bottles on the shelves, lined up in a row.
There was one way out of this place. Right in front of her.
