Hunted (Dauntless MC Book 1) (7 page)

The convict’s chains clinked, hitting the concrete flooring with every step as the guard led him back towards his cell. No sooner had they entered the prisoner’s compound than all hell broke loose. He didn’t know the details but, somehow, one of these crazy fucks had managed to get one of the guard’s guns and open every cell on deck. All it took was the push of a button on the computer that regulated everything. Everything was operated by that computer behind the desk in the center of the prison area.

The convict wasted no time and threw his manacled hands over his guard’s head from behind. Using the chain to squeeze off the artery that provided blood flow to the man’s brain, it didn’t take long before he was nothing more than a heap at the convict’s chained feet. Thirty seconds after that, he was free of shackles and armed with the guard’s gun.

The place was utter chaos as inmates threw toilet paper, books, and anything else they could find from the second floor landing. Someone had managed to get to the computer again and open all the cell doors to release every prisoner in the place, not just the ones on this deck, and the result was quickly turning into a full-blown riot. Small fires had already been started and fights were breaking out everywhere. Only one thing was on the mind of the serial killer though, and that was getting the fuck out of here and getting his hands on the sweet, little, piece of meat who had made the mistake of bonding with him through e-mails and visits. Suddenly, his daydream of tying her up and torturing her before he began slicing up her body was now a distinct possibility.

Grace sat at her desk and nursed off the effects of being out too late the night before. It wasn’t anything a couple of aspirin and a heavy dose of caffeine wouldn’t take care of.

She looked down at her cell phone when it beeped and alerted her of an incoming text.

Talon:
Are you surviving after last night’s party?

Grace:
Yes, I’m just glad I didn’t overdo it.

Talon:
Shoulda’ stayed here so I could fuck your little brains out all night.

Grace:
OMG, you’re so blunt.

Talon:
Yep, be good… you never know when I’m watching. I’d hate to have to beat the shit out of one of those sissy ass lawyers you work with.

Grace:
Your property’s safe 

Talon: ‘
Bout fuckin’ time you got it in your head you’re mine.

Grace:
:-p

Talon:
I’ll put that tongue to use later, lawyer lady.

Grace:
Speaking of lawyer lady, I need to get back to work.

Grace looked up to see Luke, one of the lawyers at the firm, standing in the doorway and studying her. “What, Luke?” she asked.

“I just hope you aren’t getting attached to that criminal you’re representing.”

“Well, it isn’t uncommon to talk to clients. I would hardly label that as being attached.” She really didn’t want anyone in the firm knowing about her relationship with Talon. She’d always kept things professional with her clients in the past. It wasn’t in her nature not to, but unlike most clients, Talon made that very hard to do.

“Texting is more intimate.”

“You don’t know who I was texting and to be perfectly honest, it really isn’t any of your business. Don’t you have something else to do? Why don’t you go make a pot of coffee or something?”

“You have an assistant for that.”

“Go away, Luke. I’m working.”

“Just trying to look out for a fellow colleague is all, Grace.”

“Well, thank you for your concern but I’m a big girl.”

“I certainly hope you are, Grace, because one of the prisoners from the jail right across the road broke out after a riot last night and he’s a serial killer.”

Grace eyed Luke and scrutinized him while she tried to decide which question she wanted to ask first: how the convict had broken out of jail, or why she had the uncanny notion that Luke was having her followed.

Derrick circled his nude partner. He had strung her up beautifully. She was standing on a wooden box with her wrists manacled and held above her head by a chain drilled into a basement rafter. He eyed her with a sadistic grin and, in one swift motion, kicked the box out from under her bare feet, all while maintaining eye contact.

She danced around on her toes until she was finally able to stop swinging. She watched, obviously horrified, as her partner reached down into a combat boot and removed a knife.

“Oh fuck, the fear in your eyes is so hot, girl.”

He cocked his head to the side, transfixed by the beautiful creature at his mercy. He traced the blade around her nipple and listened as tiny whimpers of fear escaped her lips.

“I told you this wasn’t about money.” With a tiny flick of his wrist, he nicked her skin.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh fuck, baby girl, it’s too damn late for that.” He lapped languidly at the blood and then pulled a nipple into the heated enclosure of his mouth, running his tongue around it as he sucked.

“You are so fucking hot. Now you’re mine. You have to do what I tell you to now. I just wanted you so bad, baby. You were too far out of my league so I had to resort to blackmail. You left me no choice, Justine.”

He appeared to be mesmerized by the woman at his mercy as he lightly ran the tip the blade over her abdomen. She cried out as the blade, once again, assaulted her creamy white flesh.

“No, no, no, no,” she cried as tears streamed down her face and she begged her sadistic partner for mercy.

She watched as he lowered down to his knees to lap and lick at the blood. He smacked at her legs, which were barely holding her up, signifying her to open them. His fingers slowly trailed up her legs and then between them to the silky folds now swollen with need.

“Oh baby girl, your pussy is so wet for me.” His fingers played in the heat of her folds and her tear stained face started to dry as she looked down on him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Her hips rocked into his fingers, the rush of endorphins forcing her body to betray her to her blackmailer. The pain, the fear, and the not knowing what this crazy motherfucker might do had made for the perfect cocktail of an adrenaline based endorphin high.

She never saw the blade make its last cut into her labia and she cried out as one of his hands offered pain while the other delivered pleasure. Her assailant tossed the knife to the side lapping at the blood dripping onto her leg. Like an animal in a feeding frenzy at the sight of blood he spread her open with his fingers and lapped at her soaked opening.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he murmured through laps and sucks with his heated and textured tongue. Her body racked with spasms in obedience as she succumbed to the pleasure given by a man who she knew would never release her, not after experiencing this deep of a connection.

He rose up, grabbed her face, and kissed her with more passion in that one kiss, than most people had in a full-blown lovemaking session. He reached over and pulled a lever, lowering her to the floor in a gentle heap. She crumbled into a fetal position, unmoving but sated, as she watched him stand above her stroking his large, hard cock.

“You’re mine. I made you mine. You bled for me. You came for me. You’re going to do so many things for me, things you can’t even imagine. She watched as he pulled at his cock while he threatened her with his ownership. “Gonna mark you, baby. You’re mine, all fucking mine.” His seed sprayed out all over her body and when he leaned down over her, he looked like a madman with his shoulder length, brown hair hanging down in his face. He was a man in a state of hunger; he had a crazy need only she could fulfill. His hands spread the white substance his body had ejaculated all over her skin. He had done what he said—he had marked her and made her his. He gently picked up her limp body to take her into his master bath for aftercare. She sunk into his arms and laid her head on his chest as he made his way over to bathe her. After tonight, she would never be the same. The aftercare he would provide would leave the cuts almost healed by tomorrow but nothing would ever remove the impression he had made on her psyche tonight.

He sat on the toilet and held her as he turned the bath water on with his free hand. He placed a concoction of bath salts in the water that were not only pleasing to the senses, but would begin the healing process for the cuts he had made, and waited for the tub to fill.

His voice cut through the air as she listened in a state of euphoria. “I had to do things this way, my love. You would have never had anything to do with a man like me because I’m out of your social circle. I couldn’t very well stand by and do nothing as you dated trust fund babies. After tonight, my love, you’ll never be satisfied with vanilla sex. You’ll crave the danger. You’ll crave me.”

She knew instinctively that what he said was true. She would never be the same after he’d opened this dark vortex in her soul. She didn’t understand what he was doing to her. All she knew was that she wanted more.