Filthy Secret

ALEXEI

As much as I wanted to fuck Sloane, I couldn’t. She had just been sick. Her face was paler than I would’ve liked. She wasn’t eating enough food; that was for sure. What kind of father would I be if I couldn’t take care of my pretty captive?

My incubator.

The woman who would bear all my future heirs. I hoped she had a boy right away.

I decided to take a calculated risk. I wasn’t going to tie her to the bed anymore. Lock her in this room? Maybe. But I wouldn’t force her to lie in bed day in and day out. I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do, anyway.

I knew she was pregnant, with the knowledge of someone intimate with a woman’s body. Especially Sloane.

When I pinched her nipples, she would yelp. That hadn’t happened the first time I took her. Another hint of pregnancy: her curls looked lustrous, even though I knew she was completely off her regular hair care routine. I’d tried the best I could, but right now, she was overdue for a good deep condition and detangling session. I would have to look up some videos on twists or something, so my lovely Sloane wouldn’t lose her hair from neglect.

If I could trust Sloane, I would’ve brought a stylist here to make her feel pretty, but we weren’t there yet. Instead, I sent a message to Roger asking if he could find someone willing to take care of Sloane’s hair without trying to “save her from her situation.”

I headed back into the bedroom with a plate piled with Sloane’s favorite foods. It was telling what someone had in their trash. When I’d seen the same meals over and over, I knew that was what she loved.

“What do you have there?” Sloane croaked. Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were red-rimmed from all the tears she’d sobbed.

“I brought some of your favorites, and flavored water. You need to hydrate a little better.” I sat the tray down.

“Aren’t you going to tie me back up?” Fire danced in her eyes, and oh, I wanted to burn.

“You’re carrying my child. My heir. I think we are past such things, yes?” Sloane started eating the fruit I’d picked out for her. Her favorites were strawberries-something I knew from the various containers she’d thrown in her trash.

She glanced up at me as I leaned against the wall, watching her eat.

“Ask what you want to ask, malishka.”

“Why me?” She sucked on a grape, and I wished it was my cock instead. I was keyed up, knowing that not only was she pregnant, but she was also nourishing my child.

I shook my head. “Why not you?” I wasn’t going to sit here and go over my reasoning. My reasons were for me to know and her to find out later, when she settled. And she would settle.

“I-”

Three knocks on the front door interrupted whatever she had to say. I pulled my knife from the sheath and lunged forward, holding it to Sloane’s neck. Was I going to kill her? No. But she didn’t know that.

“Not another word,” I snapped. I shouldn’t have had any visitors. I wrapped the rope I kept on hand around her hands and tied her to the bedpost. Then I stuffed a rag from the bathroom in her mouth.

The knocking was more persistent, which made me even angrier. This set me a few steps back in my plan. Sloane was going to hate me for tying her back up, but what choice did I have?

I ran to the front door after ensuring the bedroom door was closed.

“What?” I snarled, flinging the door so hard it landed against the wall with a thud, shaking from the force.

Two men in suits stood there. One wore shades, and the other had a smile faker than the self-tan he was wearing.

“Good afternoon. We’re canvassing the area, looking for a missing woman,” the man with shades said.

I peered around them and saw that they rode here on motorcycles, not vehicles. I didn’t believe them. This was the Devil’s MC.

“I’m not sure I’ve seen a missing woman. I see many women.” I let my Russian accent slip further, so they would have a harder time understanding me. If they thought I was foreign, they would leave faster.

“We’ve been passing around her picture. Can you tell me if you’ve seen her?” The “officer” without sunglasses shoved a picture of Sloane in my face.

I had to hold back a snarl. This wasn’t a picture of her at work. No, this was a picture of my malishka wearing a leather cut, a bralette, and the tightest leather pants I’d ever seen. It was like she had been poured into them. Her heels were so high, I just knew she tottered in them. With curls piled on top of her head, a few hanging loose, she was alluring. A siren of her own fucking making. My cock wanted to rise to the occasion, but now was not the time.

“I saw her at the diner. I’m not from here, but maybe she was trying to get away from this small town. Have you spoken to friends and family?”

“Yes, we have, and we have reason to believe you know where she is.” The man with sunglasses stepped closer to me.

I had about a foot on him, so I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be intimidating or not, but I just smirked.

“Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been seen frequenting the diner in her section a lot,” the other one said.

“Well yeah, it’s the only diner in town. Everyone eats there.” I waved my hand in front of my face as if to say try again.

“Be that as it may, I think we’d like to take a look around.” The sunglasses man tried to push past me, but I held him back.

“Do you have a warrant?” I was getting fed up with these bikers. Sloane needed to eat, and they were obstructing that.

“Well, no, but if you have nothing to hide, it shouldn’t matter,” the man without the sunglasses said.

“If that were true, then everyone could just waltz into one another’s property and look around. I don’t know you. You didn’t show me badges, and obviously, I’m not from America, but I know my rights. You can’t just come in here. Leave, and come back with a warrant.” I knew they wouldn’t. They had no grounds and I knew they weren’t real cops. What would the local MC want with my queen? They said gruff goodbyes and hopped on their bikes to ride away. I waited until I couldn’t hear the bikes to go back to Sloane.

I wouldn’t let that fucker get his hands on my woman. Not again.

***

SLOANEThis text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

My heart was pounding in my chest at the threat Alexei left me with. I was by no means stupid, but he hadn’t really shown me the darker, more violent side of him. Of course, that had lulled me into a false sense of safety.

Stupid fucking me, I guess.

The minute he’d held that knife against my throat, I felt two conflicting things. One was fear, of course. The other, and more shameful, was arousal. His eyes had gone so black and cold, I didn’t think he would hesitate at all taking my life and that of this child’s. Maybe even starting over with some other poor, unsuspecting woman he snatched.

I listened to the murmuring of voices. All male, but none I could point out that were distinctive. It wasn’t surprising no one had searched for me. My family had disowned me, and I was alone-the perfect target. Alexei wasn’t the only brute who thought so.

My head popped up at the sound of a door closing. My breathing came in short pants as I freaked out internally, trying to figure out what, exactly, Alexei was going to do with me. I couldn’t slow my heart. My hands were sweaty, and there was a slight cramp in my stomach.

As his footsteps came closer to the bedroom door, the cramping in my stomach grew. I figured it was anxiety and tried to calm myself down.

Alexei pushed open the door, his brow furrowed and his knife still in his hand. Not that I had a choice, but I stayed quiet while he searched my face. My distress must’ve shown, because he stalked towards me and undid the rope. I pulled the washrag out of my mouth on my own.

“You did good, malishka, but why do you seem more stressed than before they interrupted us?” His dark eyes looked back and forth between mine.

I wanted to ask him if he could read my mind, but another cramp made me bend over with a groan of pain, holding my stomach.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He bent over with me, but I pushed him away. He didn’t even stumble, and I didn’t have the strength to try and push him away again.

“It hurts, Alexei!” I cried out.

“What hurts, malishka?” I hated that fucking nickname.

“My stomach. It hurts so bad.” I reached out, and Alexei took my arm so I could lean most of my weight on his as he helped me to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet with a heavy thud. There was a trickle, and I figured it was pee. Even with all the pain, I leaned forward to wipe, then checked. There in my hand was a wad of bloody tissue paper.

“Alexei?” I whimpered, reaching out for him again. He backed away from me slowly, his eyes going cold again.

“What did you do?” he barked.

“Me? I-I didn’t do anything.” I stumbled over my words, made anxious by his change in attitude.

“How did you hurt my child?” The glint of his knife reminded me of who was in charge.

“First of all, this baby is my baby. Mine. You’re just an unwanted sperm donor.” My maternal instincts must’ve been kicking in. I pulled myself up off the toilet using the towel bar across from the seat. I was so thankful this bathroom was tiny.

“That’s where you are wrong. You both are mine. No one else’s. Your life isn’t your own; it belongs to me now.” He put the knife away, but I didn’t stop thinking about how easy it was for him to threaten me.

“I need to go to the hospital. I could be losing the baby,” I cried. For a baby I wasn’t sure I even wanted, the thought of losing it struck a note of discord in my heart.

“That’s out of the question. You don’t think I know what you’re doing?” Alexei snarled in my face. “There’s nothing wrong with you, malishka. A little bit of blood never hurt anyone.”

It was then I realized Alexei was a madman. I guess the kidnapping should’ve tipped me off at some point, but he’d been mainly sweet to me.

His madness was something I could almost sweep under the rug.

That wouldn’t work any longer.

I pushed him away, and this time he stumbled back in surprise rather than from my exertion.

“No! Did you not take me with the sole purpose of forcing a child inside of me? A child, might I add, I never wanted. And now…now you’re saying a little bit of blood never hurt anyone? Which is it?” I walked right up to him and smacked him right in his stupid chest.

Fucking idiot.

“Malishka.” The madness in his eyes lessened; it was almost like he was finding his humanity. I reached my arms around him and gave him a hug.

“I thought you wanted your heir?” I whispered.

When he didn’t answer, I pulled the knife from the sheathe in his back and held it to his throat.

“You will take me to the hospital, or I’ll slit your throat and take myself,” I growled at him. I’d never threatened anyone before, and I doubted very seriously Alexei felt any sort of fear from my threat.

He leaned into the knife, nicking his neck in the process just a little. As my eyes traveled downward with the drop of blood, he disarmed me.

“As you wish.” He swept his arm in front of him in a mocking bow and motioned for me to lead the way.

“Fucking bastard,” I mumbled.

The pain had dulled with adrenaline, but as I climbed into the car, it came back in full force. I didn’t know why I was entertaining the chance this child would live, but I sent a quiet prayer up just in case.