Zeke's Rule(20)

Would he be able to just walk away when this was all said and done? When he’d killed Gerald and she was safe to leave? He’d let her leave, give her the freedom she wanted, deserved for so long, but he honestly didn’t know if he could ignore what he felt for her.

What he did know what he was going to find Gerald, skin that motherfucker alive, gouge his eyes out, and make him suffer ten times as much as the hurt he’d inflicted on Alessandria. He was going to let the asshole feel what it was like to be beaten and raped; he had plenty of deranged, fucked up men working for him that would have no problem making a man like Gerald their bitch.





One week later

“You dig deeper, send more men out. I want that motherfucker found, and I want it done sooner rather than later.” Zeke gritted his teeth.

“We’re digging, Sir. We’ll find him,” Boscoe, one of his men, said.

“You better, because a week has already passed. I want him found, and as soon as you have that motherfucker, you call me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Zeke had resources at his disposal, but word had clearly gotten out that Gerald’s plan had failed. In all honesty, it had been a shit plan to begin with. Gerald was either the dumbest motherfucker around, or he thought Zeke was. Sending in Alessandria to try and get information out of his business had been a sloppy move, and it had cost the asshole. It would cost him his life.

But just going up against Zeke wasn’t what was going to get him killed; no, that would be because he had hurt Alessandria.

He walked over to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and stared down at the stone patio below. Alessandria was sitting in one of the chairs, her legs drawn up to her chest, and her long dark hair moving slightly in the wind. He lifted his cup of coffee to his mouth, took a long sip, and kept his focus on her.

Her tests had come back, and she was clean. No diseases, and aside from some internal tearing and bruises, she’d heal in the next week or so. Mentally, she’d need more time, but over this last week, he’d seen an improvement with her. She seemed happier, and that was a miracle after everything she’d been through.

She had her eyes closed, and her head was rested back on the chair. She looked… peaceful, and he was glad. He might be a bad motherfucker, a killing bastard, but he didn’t want a woman hurt. If she was innocent, she shouldn’t be touched.

Zeke wasn’t a saint and had killed men and women that had gone up against him, but he only hurt those that meant to hurt him or his family. They screwed with him, man or woman, and they were fucked.#p#分页标题#e#

Alessandria had been with him a full week. He wanted her, fucking hell, did he want her, but he also wanted to make sure she was ready. He’d have her eventually, he knew that, could see she desired him, too, but she was healing, trying to wrap her head around everything. He also sensed something inside of her, could see that spark of life when it came to the type of pleasure he liked. He’d been around long enough to spot a woman who enjoyed mutual, consenting pain. What Gerald had dealt her hadn’t been consenting; it hadn’t been anything but abuse. What he wanted to give her, what he would in time, was something that would have her gasping for air, clenching onto him, and coming harder than she ever had before.

Maybe he was a sick bastard for thinking about these things after the shit she’d been through, but she was warming to him, and when she looked at him, when he touched her, she didn’t show fear.

He’d show her that just because he was bad, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be good to her.





Chapter Ten





Two weeks later

Her breath left her, her heart raced, and her palms were sweating. She couldn’t take her eyes off Zeke. He disgusted her, scared her, but even all of that couldn’t stop the sick, demented part of her that found the power he emitted arousing. She looked away, unable to watch what he was doing to the woman.

“You’ll fucking watch me, Alessandria,” he ground out, sounding out of breath.

Alessandria shook. The chains that were locked around her wrists rattled, and her entire body felt as though it had a mind of its own. She lifted her head, stared at Zeke, and saw the sadistic glow in his eyes; the pain and pleasure that came from him slammed into her.

Zeke turned back around to face the woman he was whipping. She was chained up, her arms above her head, her body naked except for the tiny pair of panties she wore. Her thighs and back had whip marks on them, slashes of red, raised welts from his belt.

“You see how much she likes it,” Zeke said. He brought the belt down on the chained woman’s back again, and she arched, moaned, and clenched her thighs, as if trying to stem off her arousal. Zeke turned and faced Alessandria again, and her breath caught, her pussy became wetter, more sensitive. He stared at her a second, a smirk of sadistic pleasure on his face.