King's Ransom (Ruthless Doms 3)

Taara looks to me with wide, fearful eyes, but she gives me a slight nod. Being alone with these men is dangerous, but it could also grant us access to information we need.

“Thank you,” I say, keeping my temper in check with forced control. “I’m happy to join you, but I don’t share her with anyone.” There’s a limit to how far I’ll go to find what I need.

One of the blond men laughs out loud. “We’ll keep that in mind. I think we likely have plenty of women to go around, so you can keep your little Afghani whore.” He winks as if to soften the blow of what he just said, then turns from me. He walks away which is a damn good thing. I was seconds away from breaking his fucking nose and slicing his throat, and that could get a little messy.

Taara turns to me and tugs on my arm, pulling me to her so she could whisper in my ear. “Sharing me with them might grant you more access to information we need.”

My body goes rigid, my pulse racing. “No fucking way,” I whisper back, and I fully intend on playing the cards I have to ensure her obedience. She responds unpredictably to sir, but perhaps she’ll respond better to her daddy.

My mouth at her ear, I whisper, “And if you suggest such a thing again, you’ll find yourself over daddy’s lap for a good, hard spanking. Understand?”

She pales and nods, then swallows hard, without a trace of disobedience. “Yes, sir. I mean, y- yes, daddy.” It’s unlike Taara to stammer. I can’t fucking wait to get her alone and delve deeper into what fuels her.

The men are leading us past the bar, and several women follow their lead. “Do exactly what I say, young lady,” I instruct her. I hate that we’re doing this, that I’ve brought her here, but I know that if we can make it past this situation, I will find what I need. We go past the bar filled with people and noise to a smaller, secluded area, down a short flight of stairs, deep into the belly of the ship. The room is luxuriously outfitted in black leather furniture, with dim purple lighting, and thick, plush carpet. Fortunately, if my sense of direction is right, we aren’t far from our private room here. When I’ve obtained the information I need, I will bring her back to privacy. But first, we have a job to do.

The men have more women waiting for them, but within a minute, three more follows, until the small room is filled to capacity. At first, those that invited us only speak amongst themselves, until one produces a large bottle of vodka. It seems order is a mere formality, as this group shares freely from the large bottle. They slosh some in my cup, and I down it. I watch as the men strip out of their jackets down to their t-shirts, some revealing the star-tattoo that’s widely known as the mark of a Thief.

But they don’t speak to us. Rather, the men pair off with groups of women. Taara and I watch in fascination as one man sits beside us and places a woman between his legs. I catch a few phrases that make me stiffen.

“Minet,” and “Naveshat’ pizdyley.” He’s threatening to beat her if she doesn’t suck him off. Taara doesn’t hear what he says but watches the way the man yanks her head and forces the woman’s mouth on his cock. The woman kneels, her hands in her lap, and dutifully does what he says.

And Christ, it makes me hard. Why an act of lewd violence like this, devoid of any romance or tenderness at all, gets me off makes me furious. When one man comes our way, his eyes on Taara, I almost lose the last threads of hold I have on my temper.

“Look away,” I order Taara, yanking her toward me. “And get on your fucking knees.”

She falls to the floor, her eyes wide and curious, but she isn’t afraid. She swallows hard and licks her lips, her hands folded in her lap like a good little girl. Then in the most submissive, demure voice I’ve ever heard her use, her gaze holding mine, she whispers, “May I, daddy?”

And right then, right there, I’d give that woman fucking anything. She’s in this with me. She knows what’s at stake and how dangerous our position is. And instead of fighting me, or running away, she’s falling into her role as my slave. When I draw out my cock and line it up at her lips, she actually looks eager and excited.

And hell, if that doesn’t unravel my resolve.

“That’s it, babygirl,” I say when she leans forward and captures my cock between her lips. “Just like that, baby.”