Captive by My Lustful Enemy

Chapter4

Killian Thorne’s POV

“You’re babying her too much, aren’t you? I heard you even stitched her up? Boss, I respect you—you’re the one calling the shots. But that doesn’t seem part of the plan.”

I shot Richard a glare that could freeze blood, silencing the room. All my men stared, waiting.

I showed nothing. Any flicker of emotion would be their ammunition for doubt.

“What the f**k is our initial plan, Richard?” I asked coldly, clamping a hand on his shoulder—hard enough to make him wince.

“We punish her. Torment her. Send videos to her parents until they break, until they trade themselves for their precious daughter.”

“Exactly.” I nodded slowly. “And it’s not just physical torture, right? We hit her soul first—shatter her from the inside before the body follows. It takes time, but that’s how you truly destroy someone. Make them beg for the end.”

I headed back upstairs after laying down the law.

The sun blazed outside, but sleep evaded me.

I sank onto the bed, watching Estella sleep—her chest rising and falling, that stolen polo clinging to her curves like a second skin, riding up just enough to tease the soft swell of her hip.

Noon came. Time to wake her.

“Wake up, princess. Time to say hello to Mommy and Daddy,” I murmured, brushing my thumb across her flushed cheek.

Her skin burned under my touch—fever from the stitches, no doubt. It made her look fragile, fuckable.

“Mommy? Daddy?” she mumbled, eyes still closed.

“You’re not in your gilded cage anymore, Estella. Wake up, or I’ll drag you out naked.”

Her eyes snapped open, wild with hope that last night was a nightmare. Cute. Delusional.

“We will contact your parents in five minutes. Make sure they see how f****d your situation is. How we’re hurting you. That fresh stitch? Perfect proof of your suffering.”

“And if I don’t cooperate? You’ll really follow through?” she challenged, firing in her gaze.

I leaned in close, crashing my mouth against hers in a brutal kiss. The metallic tang of dried blood lingered on her swollen lips, mixing with her heat. My c**k twitched at the taste.

“Yes,” I growled in her mouth. “I’ll punish you right in front of them. It’ll gut them worse—watching me break you while they’re powerless.”

“You’re a demon.”

“Your parents are worse. I’m certain of it, princess.”

She tried clutching the blanket to shield her body—the thin polo barely covering her, n*****s hardening against the fabric from the chill or fear or... something darker. I ripped it away. My men needed to see I wasn’t treating her like some porcelain doll.

“Behave, Estella. Remember everything I’ve said.”

I nodded to Keigan. Moments later, her parents’ faces filled the laptop screen.

My crew’s smirks echoed like gunshots. The suffering etched on Don Luncio and Donya Heaven’s faces was pure poetry.

“Don Luncio. Donya Heaven. How’s life? Five f*****g years. Glad Satan hasn’t claimed you yet.”

I laughed as Don Luncio’s face purpled with rage.

I slung an arm around Estella, my fingers tracing her jaw possessively. “Stop fretting. She’s in excellent hands.”

Estella’s glare could kill, but tears brimmed, ready to spill.

“What do you want, Thorne? Name it—I’ll give you anything! Return our daughter. Don’t be a coward. Estella had nothing to do with the past!”

“Easy, Don Luncio. I haven’t even started, and your vein’s about to burst.”

Laughter rippled through my men.

“For now, I don’t know what I want. I’m enjoying my time with Estella so much. Did you get the bloody sheet?”

Estella’s eyes widened in accusation. She couldn’t believe I’d send her parents the stained fabric—proof of where her innocence bled out.

“I’ll kill you when we meet, Thorne! You f*****g bastard—I’ll end you!”

Don Luncio lost it completely.

Tears streamed down Estella’s face as she watched her father unravel.

“Enough. You’re acting like a child, Don Luncio. You’ve got two minutes to check on your girl. Then wait for our next call. Maybe a month? Two? But one thing’s certain—Estella’s stay with me won’t be easy.”

“Mommy,” Estella choked out.

“Baby, what happened to your lip?” Her mother sobbed.

I rolled my eyes, turning away from the melodrama.

“We’ll get you back, baby. I swear it. Daddy won’t stop until you’re home.”

“Enough! f**k, your time’s up with the waterworks!”

I kicked the laptop shut and dragged Estella out by the wrist.

I jabbed a finger at the newly installed CCTVs blinking in the corners. Her eyes widened, bewildered.

“Put on a good show for your parents, and I’ll set you free,” I said flatly, the words hanging like a promise—or a trap.

Her eyelids fluttered, those long lashes casting shadows over cheeks flushed with fever and something far more dangerous. The air between us thickened, charged like the moment before a storm breaks.

“Let me f**k you willingly, and I’ll set you free.”

“And what if I won’t?”

“You’ll let me have you, Estella. I know you want it too. I’d bet everything that if I yanked that polo up your thighs right now, you’d be drenched and aching for me.”

Triumph surged through me as she shifted on the bed, her breath hitching. I moved to claim her—then she hurled a pillow at my chest and sprawled back, legs parting just enough to taunt.

“I didn’t tell you to come closer. I won’t let you use me, Killian. But my body has needs... and you’re not the only one who can satisfy them.”

I cursed under my breath—sharp, filthy words—as she dragged the hem of the polo up to her navel, exposing the smooth plane of her stomach, the dip of her hips. She spread her thighs wide, revealing her slick, glistening p***y, swollen and begging without a word.

I watched, transfixed, as her fingers traced the seam of her folds, dipping into that wet heat with deliberate slowness.

“What the f**k are you doing, Estella? Let me feed that hunger. I’ll f**k you like I did last night—deep, relentless, until you shatter.”

“Na-ah.” Her voice was a husky purr, eyes locked on mine. “I don’t need your c**k. I can take care of myself.”

She slid her middle finger inside, eyes drifting shut as a moan tore from her throat—low, throaty, real. She pumped it in and out, then added another, her hips bucking greedily. Pleasure twisted her features, her free hand roaming up to cup her breast, pinching the tight peak of her n****e until it pebbled under her touch.

I restrained myself, fists clenched at my sides, c**k throbbing painfully against my zipper as she finger-f****d herself with shameless abandon. Every plunge of her fingers echoed in my blood, her moans coiling around me like smoke. I wanted to pin her down, bury my aching length to the hilt in that dripping core, claim her until she screamed my name in surrender.

But no. That wasn’t the plan. I wanted her begging—craving me inside her, not this defiant show.

“Oh, f**k! Killian... ugh! Faster!”

My eyes slammed shut as she chanted my name like a prayer, now plunging three fingers deep, grinding her palm against her c**t. Sweat beaded on her skin, her body arching, trembling on the edge. She came undone with a shattered cry, thighs quaking, her p***y clenching visibly around her fingers, juices glistening on her skin.

She collapsed, panting, face slick with sweat—but the satisfied glow in her eyes said she’d savored every second.

My gaze dropped to my c**k, straining against my pants. I gave it a rough stroke through the fabric. It was agony, but I wouldn’t give her the win.

Her p***y still sparkled with her release, the scent of her arousal thick in the air, testing every ounce of my control.

“You’ll never f**k me again because I want it, Killian,” she rasped, voice laced with victory. “But I see it in your eyes—it won’t be long before you’re on your knees, begging me to quench that fire in your veins.”