Chapter 3 Rough handled her
1062 Words
Hours passed.
Madison lost track of time. No windows meant no sunlight to measure time, just the soft glow of recessed lighting that never dimmed. The room was climate-controlled to perfection—cool, silent, suffocating.She’d tried everything.
Pounding until her fists was bruised.
Searching for vents, loose panels, anything.
Even dragging the heavy couch to the door and ramming it nothing budged. The keypad lock was biometric and numeric; she didn’t have the code or the print. Her phone was upstairs in the staff quarters. Wallet, keys, everything. She had literally nothing but the white bikini and the rage keeping her warm.
Eventually exhaustion won. She curled up on the couch under a cashmere throw she found in a cabinet, hating herself for using anything of his and dozed off.
The door locked with that same soft, beep.Madison’s heart beats against her ribs the second she heard it. She was already on her feet, throw abandoned on the couch, naked and cornered.
The amber lighting cast long shadows, making the small room feel even smaller.Hunter didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, back to the door, watching her like a predator deciding which way the prey would bolt.
“Don’t,” she said , voice low and shaking with fury.
“Don’t you f*****g come near me.”He took one slow step forward. Madison lunged sideways, grabbing the heavy glass water bottle from the tray he’d left earlier. She swung it hard. He ducked, caught her wrist mid-air, and twisted until the bottle clattered to the floor.
She didn’t stop.
She clawed at his face with her free hand, nails raking down his cheek three red lines blooming instantly.
He hissed, grip tightening until her bones ached.“Get off me!” She drove her knee up, aiming for his groin. He turned just in time, taking the hit on his thigh instead, but it was enough to make him stagger half a step.
Great.
She yanked free and bolted for the door, bare feet slapping against the hardwood. Her fingers scraped the keypad random numbers, frantic nothing. The lock didn’t budge. Strong arms banded around her waist from behind, lifting her clean off the floor. She kicked backward, heels hitting his shins multiple times.
He grunted but didn’t let go.She threw her head back, trying to smash his nose. He anticipated it, turning his face so her skull glanced off his jaw instead. Pain exploded across the back of her head anyway.He slammed her front-first against the wall, forearm across her upper back pinning her flat. His full weight pressed into her, chest heaving against her spine.
“Stop,” he growled into her ear.
“f**k you!” She bucked wildly, hips twisting, trying to throw him off balance.His free hand snaked between her body and the wall, cupping her breast roughly, pinching her n****e hard enough to make her gasp.
She elbowed backward, catching him in the ribs. He exhaled sharply but didn’t loosen his hold.She felt him hard against her ass through the denim, and panic surged hotter.
“No” She thrashed again, nails scraping the wall for escape. He dragged her backward, away from the door, toward the couch.
She twisted like a wild thing, biting at his forearm when it came within reach. Her teeth sank in deep enough to taste blood.
He snarled, yanked his arm away, and spun her around to face him.
His cheek was bleeding.
His eyes were black with rage and lust. Madison spit blood at his feet and swung again. He caught both her wrists this time, slamming them above her head against the wall, his body caging hers completely.
She kicked, twisted, screamed—raw, guttural sounds that echoed in the sealed room. Every muscle burned with the effort. Sweat slicked her skin, making it harder for him to keep hold.He let her fight.
He waited until the first wave of frantic energy started to flag, until her breaths came in ragged sobs, until her legs trembled from the strain.
Only then did he move.
One hand still pinning her wrists, he used the other to shove his jeans open. She felt him hot and heavy against her thigh and redoubled her struggle, hips jerking, trying to knee him again.
He wedged his thigh between hers, forcing her legs apart. She bit his shoulder through the T-shirt hard.
Fabric tore. He growled, gripped her throat not choking, just holding her shifted her bikini and thrust up into her in one brutal stroke.
Madison screamed against his skin.
She fought the entire time.
Every thrust, she winced in pain.
Every time he pulled back she tried to slam her forehead into his.
When he buried his face in her neck, she bit his ear. When he gripped her hips to angle deeper, she raked nails down his arms.
He took it all.
He f****d her through the rage, through the tears, through the hate, until her body traitorous, exhausted and shuddered around him in a climax she despised herself for.
Only when she went limp, chest heaving, tears streaming silently, did he let himself go.
He came with a low groan, pulsing deep inside her, marking her again.
He didn’t pull out right away.
He buried his head in her neck then pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing like they’d run miles.
The blood from his cheek was already dried.
Slowly, he released her wrists. They fell numb to her sides.
He stepped back, tucked himself away, zipped up.
Madison slid down the wall until she was sitting, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them. She didn’t look at him.
Hunter wiped the dried blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, stared at it for a moment, then at her.
“Tomorrow,” he said, voice rough, “we try again.”
The door locked behind him.
Madison stayed on the floor a long time.
When she finally moved, it was to crawl to the discarded throw and wrap it around her shaking body.
She didn’t cry anymore.
She just stared at the door, scratches and bruises blooming across her skin, and started planning how to escape for real this time.
He could take her body.
But that would never stop her from trying to escape.
She will figure something out.
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