Sold To The Mafia King

Chapter 3

Eve's POV

I felt unease creeping down my throat.

For me it was everything.

The way he said those words and strangely how he said it.

His deep voice came out vibrating deeply from his vocal cords before slowly sounding out.

Every single word sounded like it was laced in honey and then fogged in deep smoke.

“I can apologize. I'm… I'm really sorry I went against your words. Please…”

He looked at me dead in the eyes, no hint of the smirk that was once there “I have no use for that”.

How can someone be this…. This cold?

This detached?

This lifeless?

Then he pressed the gun more into my throat. “So is that a no?”

I shook my head.

“Changed your mind?”

“Yeah just take this gun away from me I'll do whatever you want”.

“Whatever I want might be a couple things frowned upon by society”.

“I don't care”. I had planned, that the moment he removed this gun from me I was going to try to shove it off his hand.

I didn't know much about self defence, but I shouldn't be that pathetic in it.

I was becoming desperate.

My life was literally hanging on a thin thread

“I won't. Not when you haven't finished your own part of the deal”

I stare at him dumbfounded.

“ You can't fool me you know”. He throws away the remaining blunt in his hand.

My gaze strays to the half-smoked blunt and just when I'm thinking about prolonging my time, he caresses a few strands of my hair.

The gesture was so intimate that my heart beat so loudly I thought it'll pull out my chest.

No one has ever touched me with that level of non-negotiable confidence.

No I wouldn't say confidence but POWER!!! RAW POWER.

Just when I thought he had grown a little human side, his fingers that were just stroking my hair dug deep into my skull and shoved me to the ground.

And just like that my knees were on the ground.

No resistance.

Nothing.

I was already kneeling before this man.

I looked up, to look at this man that nothing seemed to move. Not even a single change in his features even as this chilling air tousled his hair back.

I'm sure he felt me shaking, both from cold and from hard metal he had pointed at me but the expression on his face didn't even change for a second.

It had only been a minute I had meet this American stranger, but I've received more threats to my life than I had received from…. From…

No I shook my head.

“Now should we begin” he asked.

“Begin what?”

“Payments for the embarrassment earlier. Do you also have a short term memory?”

“But I didn't…. I swear it was intentional”.

“Look girl, one thing I hate is to be played as a fool”. His eyes grew smaller.

I guess I shouldn't annoy him more than this or I wouldn't like it.

“Where did your little words about doing anything I wanted go to?” He bent a little downwards and looked me in the eyes.

“Those words were from the heat of the moment, they don't count”.

“They do to me. Either give me what I want or…..” His deep threatening voice trailed off, as his eyes trailed slowly on his gun.

I knew it was an indirect reminder that he still had my life in his palm.

He was trying to intimidate me.

And he knew damn well that it was working.

“Can I get up first?”

“No. Everything I want happens in this position. Your Lips On My d**k!!!”.

I prayed this was all some joke I was going to go back home and laugh off to, maybe tell my friends about and just talk about it to my self on some days.

But no, not from the way he still stared in my eyes with a serious not I've never seen before.

It was at this point I realized what deep trouble I was actually in.

This physco would devour me alive and he would do so, smiling at me.

I reached out for his belt buckles.

His belt was cold against my fingers.

The metal clicked as I fumbled with it, my hands shaking so bad I couldn't get the damn thing open.

"Having trouble?" His voice was flat, but I heard the amusement underneath. "Maybe you need motivation."

The gun pressed harder against my throat.

I could feel my pulse jumping against the barrel, like it was trying to push back.

My fingers found the leather strap, pulled it free.

The buckle clinked against the concrete when it hit the ground.

"Good girl." He shifted his weight, spreading his legs wider. "Now the zipper."

The alley smelled like exhaust fumes, but underneath that was something else - his cologne, expensive and sharp, cutting through everything.

My stomach rolled. I wanted to throw up but my mouth was too dry.

The zipper sounded loud in the quiet, like ripping fabric.

I could see the outline of him through his boxers, and my hands froze.

"Don't stop now. Touch him."

I couldn't. My arms wouldn't move. Every muscle in my body had locked up, like my nerves had been cut with a knife.

"I said…."

"I heard you." The words came out cracked. "I just... I can't..."

"You can and you will." The gun moved from my throat to my temple.

I felt the circle of metal, perfect and cold, pressing against my skull.

"Unless you'd rather I paint this wall with your brains."

My fingers moved without my permission.

They pulled down the elastic band, and then he was there, hot and heavy in my palm.

I wanted to jerk my hand away but I couldn't.

He was thick, pulsing with blood, and I could feel him getting harder just from me holding him.

"Put your mouth on it."

I looked up at him then, really looked.

His face was stone, but his eyes - Jesus, his eyes were alive with something that made my skin crawl.

Not lust, not exactly.

Something hungrier.

Something that wanted to consume.

"Please don't make me…."

"You're already doing it. Just closer now."

I leaned forward, my knees grinding against the concrete.

The alley was dark but not dark enough - I could see everything too clearly.

The veins standing out on his c**k.

The way his breathing had changed, getting shallow.

The fact that he was enjoying this, enjoying making me do it.

The tip touched my lips. Salty, bitter.

I wanted to pull back but the gun was still there, a constant reminder that this wasn't a choice.

Not really.

"Open."

I opened my mouth. He pushed forward, not gentle, not rough - just deliberate.

Like he was claiming something that already belonged to him.

I gagged immediately, my throat trying to close, but he kept going until I thought I would choke.

"Breathe through your nose."

I tried. God, I tried.

But he was too big, too much.

My eyes watered, tears streaming down my face, and I couldn't tell if it was from the physical sensation or the humiliation.

Probably both.

He started moving then, slow strokes that went deeper each time.

My hands went to his thighs automatically, trying to push back, but it was like trying to move a mountain.

He was solid muscle under my palms, and when I touched him he made this sound - not a moan, more like satisfaction.

"That's it. Take it all."

I couldn't respond.

Couldn't do anything but try to survive each thrust.

My jaw ached already, stretched wide around him.

My neck hurt from the angle.

But worse than the physical was my mental health- the way my mind was splitting in two.

Part of me was here, on my knees in this alley, living this nightmare.

But another part had floated up and away, watching from above like this was happening to someone else.

The girl up there was thinking practical things: Don't bite down. Breathe when you can.

Try not to think about the taste.

Try not to think about how many times you've done this willingly and how different it feels when you have no choice.

"Look at me."

I couldn't.

My eyes were squeezed shut, like if I couldn't see him, maybe this wasn't real.

"I said look at me."

The gun pressed harder.

My eyes snapped open and met his.

In the dim light they looked almost black, but I could still see that blue underneath, cold as winter.

He was watching my face like he was memorizing it - every tear, every struggle, every moment of degradation.

"You're beautiful like this," he said, and his voice had gone soft, which somehow made it worse.