Protect Your Queen: A Dark Revenge Romance

4

“Please don’t do it…” She couldn’t say the R word, the terrifying word every woman never wanted to say.

I exerted my dominance, my control—and that was all I wanted. I got off her and stood on my feet. “You’re coming with me. Now.”

“Where?” She immediately crawled into the corner of the cot like a frightened animal. She pulled her knees to her chest, trying to hide behind them.

I stood over the cot, piercing her with my terrifying gaze. “Get your ass up now.” I grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her off the bed until her back hit the floor. Then I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. “Do as I say or I’ll make you do as I say.” I yanked her head back so her eyes were focused on the ceiling, my lips pressed to her ear. “Any questions?”

“No.”

I released the knot of hair and walked out of the cell.

She caught her breath then followed me, her eyes on me the entire time.

I shut the door behind her then pointed to the stairs. “Up.”

She walked up first, moving until she reached the door. It was unlocked, so she stepped inside.

My hand moved to the back of her neck, but I didn’t dig my fingers into the skin the way I would have liked. I guided her to the other side of the house, moving past the grand dining room, the vaulted ceilings of the entryway, and the first living room with a large hearth that still burned with firewood.

I took her to the second floor and into the bedroom she would soon be occupying. The large bathroom had a spacious shower, one with a glass door that opened and closed. I guided her inside then released her once she was in front of the shower. “Take off your clothes.” She’d been wearing them for four days now. They were about to go into the trash—to be forgotten.

The feistiness returned to her eyes. She stared at me in offense, unable to believe the command I just gave her.

“Did you not hear me?” I asked through clenched teeth, not wanting to waste time with another argument.

“I’ll take off my clothes if you shut the door.”

I shook my head. “That’s not how it works, lovely.”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed.

“What do you prefer? Slave?”

She raised her hand and tried to slap me across the face.

I almost let her, but since establishing authority was more important right now, I snatched her by the wrist and yanked her arm to her side. Then I backhanded her across the cheek, slapping her hard enough to make the skin redden.

She sucked in a short breath at the hit. Her head remained turned the other way, in shock that I actually did it.

I grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her. “If you don’t want me to slap you, don’t slap me. If you don’t want me to hurt you, do as I say. If you don’t want me to f**k you on that bed in the other room, take off your clothes and get your ass in the shower.” I squeezed her hard before I finally let her go.

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for her to do as I commanded.

She pulled her hair out of her face, her cheek turning red where my palm collided with the skin. Tears weren’t in her eyes, but she finally looked defeated, understanding that obeying my commands was better than defying me.

She felt the bottom of her shirt but didn’t pull it over her head. She tried to think of a way out of her situation, but unfortunately, there was nothing she could do. She had to pay the price of her brother’s stupidity—even if it wasn’t fair.

She finally pulled her top over her head, revealing a white bra underneath. Her t**s formed a cleavage line down the middle, and it was the first time my c**k thickened in interest. I had a long line of women in my life, and I never mixed business with pleasure, but seeing the natural swell of a rack was a bit of a turn on.

She opened the shower door and turned on the warm water, letting it get hot as she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her long legs. She didn’t make eye contact as she stripped down to her underwear, full of shame that she was giving in to my demands.

She hesitated when she was left in only underwear, knowing I was going to see every inch of her bare skin in just a moment.

I watched her in her black panties, still aroused even though she wasn’t wearing a thong. She had long and slender legs, the kind that would look kissable in heels. Her stomach was lined with muscles, subtle and sexy. Her arms were slender but defined by the grooves of muscle. She must have hit the gym a few times a week, probably to blow off steam after studying around the clock.

She undid her bra and let it come loose. But before she took it off, she turned around so I couldn’t see her t**s head-on.

I almost commanded her to turn around.

She set the bra on top of her pile of clothes then reached for her panties. Now she just wanted to get it over with, because she bent over and yanked them off before she stepped into the shower. But she didn’t move quick enough to stop me from seeing the pink skin of her p***y and a glimpse of her small asshole.

Now I really was hard.

She got into the shower and shut the door behind her, the warm water greeting her. Her hair clung to her neck once it was wet, and she grabbed a bottle of shampoo and massaged her scalp, ridding it of the oil and grime.

I watched the water roll down her luscious body, peering through the steam that pressed against the glass doors. My c**k twitched in my jeans the longer I stared at her. My arousal coursed through me at a blinding speed. I would have to make a trip to Glasgow to see one of my regulars. My c**k needed to be sucked soon.

She stayed under the water for a long time, much longer than necessary. She probably cherished the feeling of cleanliness. Up until that point, she’d been stuck in the same clothes as the oil built up on her scalp and skin. Now that she had to go without this luxury, she truly appreciated it.

“That’s long enough,” I commanded.

She stared at the faucet before she turned it off, ending her shower.

I grabbed a thick towel and handed it to her, feeling my c**k press against the fly of my jeans.

She immediately covered herself with it, hiding her nakedness even though I’d already seen all the good stuff. She patted herself dry, finally looking at me again with the same displeasure.

“You should dry your hair. Might get sick.” I pointed to the hair dryer.

She eyed the hair dryer before she looked at me again. “Like I care about getting sick.”

“Well, I do. I don’t want you to give it to me.” I smiled, trying to make a joke to wipe off the sour look on her face.

She just looked angrier.

She dried her hair quickly, using her fingers to comb through the strands as she kept the towel around her chest. When she was finished, she moved to grab her clothes, which were now gone. “What did you do with them?”

“You aren’t wearing those anymore.” I picked up the outfit sitting on the bed. “This is what you’re wearing now.” It was a long gray dress with sleeves, made from thick cotton. It was the perfect size for her narrow waist, highlighting her curvy features around her chest, stomach, and ass.

She tightened the towel around her torso as she stared at the dress in disappointment. “I’m supposed to wear that in the cell?”

“You could wear it up here—if you behaved yourself.”

She snatched the dress and headed back to the bathroom.

“I don’t think so, lovely. You can get dressed in front of me.” I sat at the foot of the bed and leaned back on my elbows.

The look she gave me was full of even more hatred than ever before. She pulled on the panties underneath her towel and managed to get the bra on in the same way. Then she abandoned the towel altogether and pulled the dress over her head. Even without makeup or styling her hair, she pulled it off.

She still had an attitude, but at least she was obeying me. “What we do next is your call.” I was tempted to command her to ride my c**k, but I didn’t think she would actually do it. She was scared of me, but not scared enough.

“How so?”

“Personally, I don’t want to keep you in a cell like a rat. It’s awfully cold and dark down there.”

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“But if you keep acting up, you won’t leave me much choice.”

She looked out the bedroom window but couldn’t see anything since it was pitch black outside. It was two in the morning, so dawn was hours away. “What do you want from me? If you aren’t putting me into s*x trafficking.”

She’d finally started to ask questions. “It’s pretty simple. Your brother tried to rip me off during a business deal. He tried to steal four million dollars from me. With the business I run, that kind of betrayal can’t slide. So, I took something valuable from him—you.”

Her arms slowly moved to her sides, and she forgot about her situation—for a heartbeat. “What kind of business do you run?”

“I sell intelligence. And he bought it.”

“Intelligence for what?” she asked. “My brother is a retirement advisor. He travels the world and tries to get people to invest in IRAs and SEPs.”

The only reason why I didn’t laugh was because I actually pitied her. “Sorry, lovely. He lied to you.”

She lowered her gaze, her eyes shifting back and forth as her mind worked quickly.

“When I told him you were the price he was going to pay, he wasn’t happy. But that’s how it goes.”

She came back to the conversation. “And what are you going to do with me?”

“That remains to be seen. But I can assure you, it’ll be in whatever way I can cause him the most pain.” I left the bed and stood, towering over her with my height. “It’s nothing personal, London. You’re just a victim in this game we’re playing.”

The hatred was gone from her expression. Now she continued to think quietly to herself, trying to understand the madness she had been thrown into. She was a prisoner in a foreign land, having no rights whatsoever. Whatever fear she had was hidden deep below the surface. “It is personal,” she whispered. “When you take my life away, it’s very personal.”