Deliver (Deliver 1)

The woman’s chin fell upon on her chest, and she drooped in her restraints. Traquero held up a remote, pushed a button, and the woman screamed again.

As Liv made the connection to the shock collar, images assaulted her. Josh collared under the hands of this man, his beautiful face shattering in agony, his faith in humanity shredding with each press of the button. No fucking way. Not while she still sucked air. She jutted out her hip, creased her eyes with a calloused smile, and laughed. “Who the fuck is she?”

“My wife.” His nostrils flared. “She used to be my life. Until I found out she was just a fucking whore.” He stood, yanking the tie loose at his neck, his accent clotting with long i’s. “Fucking all my colleagues. Making me a goddamned laughingstock, the filthy fucking bitch.” He strode toward his wife, rolling up his sleeves, and backhanded her face.

A normal person would’ve regretted asking the question. Hell, a kind person would’ve ran for help. But she was neither. She needed Traquero’s commitment to the deal to ensure her family’s safety, and she couldn’t leave without it.

Marketing 101. Know the customer’s needs and use the information to influence him. “You want a lover who won’t” —can’t— “undermine the dominion you’ve worked so hard to establish?” Fucking lowlife.

“Yes.” He folded his hands behind his back and swaggered toward her. “Move. Let me see him.”

She didn’t want that motherfucker anywhere near Josh. The thought alone spindled around her lungs, tightening its oxygen-depriving tendrils. But she couldn’t shove her gun down his throat and pull the trigger. She could not. She could not. She breathed through it, focusing on the reason she’d stripped Josh of his clothes. He was there to be viewed. Seal the deal.

She stepped aside and exposed Josh to the man’s sickening gaze.

“At last, I see you, mi belleza,” he said, and she knew he was referring to Josh’s cock. Traquero’s attention was fixated and slack-jawed. “Out of the way, whore.” He shooed her with a hand, his voice thick with spit.

“It’s Deliverer, you sexist cunt.” Her lashing tone was a pitiful attempt at maintaining her position. Didn’t matter who she was. She had a vagina. He considered her no more important than the woman he strung up and electrocuted, and he glared at Liv now like he might hit her.

She backed up, hands at her sides, fingers resting on the edges of her thigh-high boots.

He circled Josh, his gaze scouring the flexing muscle encased in chains, and paused with a hand over the raised welts. “Magnífico.” He reached up and yanked off the hood. “Face me.”

Never had she expected to become so overwhelmingly possessive of a man, and it terrified her. The fear of losing him was as painful as her loss of Mom and Mattie.

Josh kept his eyes down, but she knew he could see the woman hanging in his line of sight. Other than the twitch in his shoulders, he kept his reaction to the horror behind an empty expression. When he turned and Traquero cupped his lowered jaw, her heart pounded wildly to smack the touch away. She locked her knees, forced herself to wait it out.

“Has your dick been corrupted by pussy?” he breathed. “Speak. Give me your eyes.”

Josh was several inches taller and regarded the sweaty, suit-clad man with a calm expression, his tone admirably smooth. “I’m a virgin, Master.”

“Good. Good. Muy bueno.” He caressed Josh’s bicep and followed the chains over his chest. An unmistakable erection bulged below the girth of his gut. “The slut I married will watch me fuck you. She will see honor and respect as you accept my dick, my rules, my power. Then she will know what her cunt has lost.”

So fucked up. His requiting desires should’ve made his twelve requirements more plausible. Instead, the perversity of his oath and the lust smoldering in his eyes magnified his madness.

When he palmed Josh’s cock, she grappled for an excuse to stop him. She hadn’t told Josh that fondling was acceptable at these meetings. Stopping it would raise suspicion.

Josh held still with a heavy-lidded expression and intense patience, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t cracking beneath his stoic exterior. Her helplessness was an agonizing knot in her throat.

“Your limp pecker pleases me.” He cupped Josh’s balls, weighing them in his hand. “Not interested in men, no? Since I only employ men, you won’t fuck my colleagues? My servants? Answer.”

She shook her head, inwardly. Traquero liked the idea that Josh wouldn’t be tempted to fuck his colleagues, but what the megalomaniac wasn’t considering was that also meant Josh wouldn’t willingly fuck him, either.

“No, Master.” Josh’s voice was soft, but a vein pulsed in his forehead.

“No, you won’t.” Sick satisfaction congealed in the crook of Traquero’s grin, his eyes locked on his groping hand. “I want him.”

The three words she needed to hear and had dreaded with every fiber of her existence. Time to get the fuck out. “Delivery will be in eight weeks. Do you have the down payment?” His referral would be her next client. One with a new list of requirements and a new captive. An endless cycle she couldn’t break.

“I said, I want him.” The force of his declaration punched through her, stealing the strength from her legs. Did he mean—

“Right now.” He continued to molest Josh’s cock, his audacity slicing through her rising fear.

She brightened her eyes with the vicious smile he couldn’t see beneath the scarf. “He hasn’t been prepared for you, and he’ll fight like hell.” She hoped she hadn’t misunderstood his desire for a willing victim. With her hands on her hips, she rolled her head on her shoulders and stretched her mouth in a yawn. “He needs more conditioning.” She yawned again. “Hence, the eight weeks.” Now get a fucking clue.

“He’s not leaving until he gives me something. No deal without this.” He squeezed Josh’s cock, stretched it from his body. “I want you to come for your Master.”

Her heart skipped a beat. How would she stop this? Mr. E didn’t care what happened during these meetings as long as she secured the deal and the contact info for his next client.

He grabbed the chair, scratching the legs across the floor, and slammed it down in front of his wife. He pointed at the seat and frowned at Josh. “Sit.”

Josh’s muscles strained against the chains as he paced to the chair, head down. His wire-wrapped knuckles were bloodless, his jaw a hard line of anger. She stayed on his heels, the weight of her promise to protect him a splintering pang in her chest.

When he sat, she stood in front him. His heavy exhales rushed against her back. He was pissed, probably scared, but he hadn’t done anything to foul up the meeting. She needed to wrap this up by any means possible. Strike that. By any means but one. “You will not fuck him tonight.” Or ever.

Traquero removed his suit jacket. “Then I’ll fuck you.”

The room was fetid, reeking of desperation, the air thickening every second she hesitated. Vibrating through the stench was the silent wall of rage behind her. Josh’s knees tapped against the backs of hers, bouncing violently, begging her attention. It was a terrible reminder of the horror she’d subjected him to. At the same time, she found comfort in his jostling presence. He didn’t want this for her, and his concern was a fiery spark in her chest, a pulsing light that energized her with so much warmth.

She glared into the eyes of a monster who didn’t respond kindly to disappointment and dragged her response, bucking and sour, from the pit in her gut. “You want to fuck my filthy cunt? I’m just a whore.”

He stepped in

to her, toe to toe, his exhale scorching her face. “That’s why I’m fucking your ass. I’ll come in your bowels while my property comes in your face. Turn around.”

The floor tipped. Her ankle gave out, and she righted herself. She was teetering in unchartered territory. Josh was her first virgin boy. The other boys had not only been promiscuous but also experienced in anal sex. And by the time they’d attended their intro meeting, they’d been conditioned enough to accept the kind of demand Traquero was making.

If she denied Traquero, would he pull out a hidden weapon? Would he back out of the deal? Even if he let them leave unmolested, her rejection would wound his sense of superiority. An unhappy client meant a death warrant for the two people she’d sacrificed everything to protect.

A shiver chilled her blood. Shit. Fucking shit. She swallowed, held her spine straight. Van had taken her anally countless times. She was already ruined and would do anything to spare Josh that fate.

As she turned, a moan bellowed from the woman hanging beside them. Her mewls transformed into an ear-piercing shriek. Good God, he was shocking her again. Her body thrashed and fell quiet. Liv choked back the bile burning her throat.

“Bend over.” Traquero’s hands gripped the hem of her skirt, shoved it to her waist, and fisted her panties, ripping them off. “Eyes on me, slave.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. No way could Josh look at him without a face full of emotion. If he lost his shit, they might not leave there alive. If he showed any concern for her, the raping twat-hater would see through their facade. She hoped to hell Josh was working this out in his head.

As she bent over his lap, their gazes collided. The connection lasted a fraction of a second, but it was all she needed. He wanted to fight for her. It was there in the pink rims of his eyes, in the blotch of red staining his cheeks. His lowered chin was fiercely set, his mouth a pale line of anguish.