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One part of me was a bit surprised by the show of it. Sloane seemed so easy to control at times, with her petrified of every little thing, mostly due to the men who terrorized her on the daily. But then there were moments like this. A queen refusing to submit. Perhaps her courage only reared in the face of death.
As if she read my mind, she spoke, “Kill me already. I’m done.”
I gave a hollow chuckle. “Oh no,malishka.If your fate is to die at my hands, it will not be easy or quick. So, keep that in mind. I’m well versed in…suffering.”
She sat up. “You can’t do this. You can’t just keep me like I’m a possession.”
I smirked. She was really going to hate what I had planned. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. No one will help you here. So…” I grabbed her by the hair and propped her back on her knees. “You can either obey, or I will make you. And Sloane, you won’t like what I will do if I have to make you.”
“Can I please suck your cock?” she asked through gritted teeth.
She was starting to really piss me off with her piss-poor attitude. “Not good enough.” I gripped her gorgeous curls in one hand and tilted her head way back, so I had plenty of space to hold my knife at her throat. “Try it again and mean it.”
Sloane gulped, the movement causing the blade to nick her delicate skin. Her eyes glazed over, and she licked her lips. Even I could see that her body was responding to my violence, her nipples hard and poking through the material of the shirt.
It was things like this that reminded me why Sloane was the perfect woman for me. I needed a queen who could take what I would give.
“May I please suck your cock, sir?”
Her voice was coated in honey, and I leaned over to press a soft kiss on her lips.
She involuntarily moaned and pressed into me. Victory.
“No.”
She gasped. “B-but wh-why? I did what you asked me.” Confusion showed through her tear-stained face.
I shrugged. “Because you don’t deserve it.” I then propelled her backward to lay on the floor as I climbed on top of her. Ever so slowly, I used my knife to part the shirt. Her rapid breathing seemed to stem from both fear and arousal. She even arched into my hand when I brushed the shirt open to reveal her glorious breasts.
She had many scars. They were faded, but they weren’t mine. Cigarette burns mostly. I hadn’t given them much thought. Life experiences. My body was full of them as well.
I changed the way my hand held the knife. “Since you are a flight risk, I think I should carve my name on your chest so people will know that I own you, and they can return you to me.”
Her fist swung out and clocked me right in the side of my head then knocked my hand.
“Fuck!” I dropped the knife in surprise.
With a strength I didn’t know she possessed, Sloane bucked me off, snatched up the fallen knife, and scrambled to her feet. She then turned and stomped me in the balls.
I clutched my jewels and tried not to whimper, but tears sprung in my eyes. I watched her storm to the exit. My heart raced. I hadn’t had this much fun in years.
Sloane opened the bedroom door, the knife clutched in her hand, uncaring that she was fairly naked, and stepped into the hall.
A shot rang out, and Sloane jumped in place like she was tap dancing to avoid the ricochet.
“Back in the bedroom, ma’am.” voice called out.
I held back a laugh as I climbed to my feet.
“You!”
“You heard me, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” Sloane echoed. “I’ll have you know I’m only twenty—”
There was another shot. Sloane yelped, startled by the discharge, then quickly checked herself to see if she was hit. She was not.
Roman cleared his throat. “I don’t want to shoot you, so I suggest you run back inside and apologize to Mr. Alexie on your knees.”
