Dirty Addiction (Dirty 2)

I take the stairs two at a time as I climb up the grand staircase. The staircase swerves, taking up most of the space in the entryway. It’s meant to be magnificent, the centerpiece of the room, but I have three staircases that trump this one in size and stature.

I get to the top of the stairs and intently listen as I slink down the hallway as quietly as I can. I don’t want Armas to know I’m here until I want him to know.

I don’t hear anything as I walk down the hallway counting the doors as I go.

One.

Two.

Three.

I grab the doorknob as I lean against the door listening.

Nothing.

I draw my gun ready to kill in a second if I need to.

I push the door open. The room is dark, I flick on the lights, but I already know what I’m going to find. Nothing. It’s empty.

The bastard lied to me. I should have killed him.

Eden screams.

I turn and run toward her screams. The fourth door. I kick the door open without thinking about anything other than getting to Eden as fast as possible.

Armas is on top of Eden when I enter the room. He doesn’t even turn his head to me. Either because he didn’t hear me enter, or because he believes I’m a member of his staff, who is coming to check on him and will quickly leave.

My eyes go to Eden. All I can see though are her arms and legs tied to the bed. Her screams and cries pierce my heart, begging me to protect her.

I respond, running to the bed without thinking. I may not be any better than Armas is, but if anyone is going to lay a hand on her, it’s going to be me.

Stowing my gun in my waistband, I grab Armas by the neck and fling him against the far wall as easily as I would tossing a ball. I’m much stronger than he is, and in my pent up state, he’s not a match for me at all.

Anger.

Rage.

Pain.

The emotions alight deep in my belly and spread like fire through my entire body when I see Eden. I’ve never been so mad in all my life. I’ve never felt such rage. My body is red, my arms shake, unable to keep my frustration inside.

Eden is tied to the bed by her arms and legs with shackles to the frame of the bed designed with loops to attach rope or chains. It’s clear Armas has done this to women before.

She’s naked. Nothing I haven’t already seen plenty of times before, but seeing her now makes me ache, my cock throbs against the zipper of my jeans. It makes me want to finish the job that I didn’t get to finish.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman. Months. Usually, it isn’t a problem, but when I look at her body, I’m tempted to pull out my cock and fuck her right here, right now.

Her eyes look straight at me, but she doesn’t react. She doesn’t think this is real. She thinks she’s dreaming I came and saved her. She must have been desperate to get away from Armas to be fantasizing about me protecting her.

I expect her to look broken, lost, gone. But her eyes don’t show that. She still has hope and fight. Her body doesn’t seem beaten, other than some redness on her breasts. He’s barely fucked her or touched her. No more than I did before.

My eyes continue to inspect her body until I see her leg.

Her entire leg is red and swollen with black and blue bruises all up and down it. But the coloring isn’t what has me concerned. There is a large gash on the top of her shin still actively bleeding and filled with dirt and debris. It looks bad. Most likely broken.

Red. It’s all I see and feel as I turn from Eden to Armas, who is smirking at me in the corner of the room. He slowly gets to his feet, wiping the blood off his forehead. I must have caused the blood when he I threw him across the room.

“Jealous much? I was having a taste and helping to break her in so she would be ready for you.” Armas continues to smirk as he stares at Eden on the bed.