Trapped in his End Game (Series)

Tommy lets my hand go and moves the wooden chair so that he sits in front of me, a wicked grin on his face. “You’ll have to suck my cock.”

“What?”

My mouth gapes open stupidly as he lets his arm rest on the table, checking his watch.

“And you’ll have to make me come in under three minutes, or you won’t get to eat.”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?”

His eyes glimmer with mischief. “If you don’t do as I say, you won’t eat. It’s that simple.”

I let out a harsh laugh. “You won’t let me starve to death.”

Tommy leans forward, his brown hair brushing his eyes. “It’s just a blowjob, hon. You might even like it.”

“Fuck you!”

The kitchen echoes with his laughter. “What’s the matter? You were all over me upstairs,” he says in a low, gritty voice. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”

I curl my lips under my teeth. “I’m not going to suck your cock to eat food! I’m not your whore!”

Suddenly he’s out of the chair and his hands wrap around my throat like hot brands. My heart squeezes painfully when he stands between my legs, the fabric of his jeans bunched where his cock stiffens.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re mine. I get to do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.” The fucking bastard smiles at me. “I’m giving you a choice. All you have to do is get me off in under three minutes, and you’ll have food.”

As far as I’m concerned, that’s not much of a fucking choice. I won’t be bullied into giving him a blowjob. Doing whatever it takes to build rapport is one thing, but this is something else entirely.

He wants to humiliate me. Break me down.

I won’t let him.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Suit yourself.”

His hot hands fly from my neck and then he sits down at the table across from me, pulling the steak closer. Tommy picks up the knife and fork beside the plate and cuts into the steak.

“What are you doing?”

He ignores me as he cuts a juicy piece and pops it into his mouth. His eyes close with rapturous delight as his mouth chews the steak.

Fucking bastard is going to eat it in front of me.

Another charred piece of meat gets stabbed by Tommy’s fork, which then swirls the piece of meat in the dark-red sauce. My stomach groans as steam rises from the cut steak, the aroma torture on my caved-in stomach walls.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

He pauses between chewing to smile, but he doesn’t say anything more. When he eats the last bite from the plate, he stands up and drops it into the sink. I would have licked the sauce from the plate. The hiss of water from the faucet is almost painful to hear.

“Can I have a drink of water?”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

Tommy takes a glass and fills a third of it with water. “Here.”

Is this a fucking joke?

The glass is cold in my hands, and I drain it in a small swallow. “I need more. Please.”

“That’s all you get for now.”

He takes the glass from me and sets it on the counter. Fire courses through my veins as he places his hand on my shoulder. I shrug his hand off and walk in the direction of the closet.

* * *

Another night, or day, locked up in that wooden basement with every sensation ripped from my body. It does strange things to my mind. I wonder if the FBI is looking for me, or whether they’ve already written me off as a lost cause. My parents will be out of their minds with worry.

The only thing reminding me that I’m still alive is my heartbeat and the gnawing pain in my stomach. It’s terrible. I’m horribly weakened by it. I’ve already decided that I’ll give in to Tommy. I’ll get on my knees and put my head between his legs, even though it disgusts me. I just never thought I would be one of those girls, who sucks cock in exchange for something. It makes me sick to my stomach, even though I’m only doing it because I’ve no choice, because the alternative is to starve.

Let him think he’s won. Don’t give up.

The little voice inside fills me with courage I never knew I had. Sure, I stood up to Vincent plenty of times and told the rest of them to fuck off, but I never knew I could survive something like this. Someone like him. He’ll think I’ve lost, but I’ll be the one who wins this battle. I’m choosing to do it for my own reasons.

A dark male voice suddenly hisses in my ear: Sure you are, sweetheart. I’ll let you think that.

He’s right. What a fucking joke.

My throat is parched, the thirst for once overpowering the hollow pain in my stomach.

TOMMY! TOMMY!

What if I die of dehydration? My lips try to form his name over and over again. The air tears my dry throat, but I don’t care.

HELP ME!

Someone must be able to hear me beyond these walls.

Pain pierces my eyeballs as white explodes overhead. I imagine leather shoes clipping on the wooden floorboards so that I don’t jump when his hands lift the headphones and blindfold from my head. I shut my eyes as every sensation returns to my body. It’s so loud and terrifying that I wince at the sound of the metal chains clinking together. They fall from my limbs.

“There’s no point,” he says as he bends closer to me. “There’s no one around for miles. No one can hear you.”

“Water,” I hear my voice croak. “Please.”

His hand curls around mine and tugs me to my feet. I’m so weak with hunger that it hurts to stand up. The empty, stabbing pain worsens when I’m standing upright.

Tommy wears a black, slim suit that reminds me of the other Mafia bastards I hate. His face is impassive as he watches me struggle to my feet.

“I’ll get you water upstairs. C’mon.”

The promise of water is enough to make me hurry up the steps, drained of energy as I am. Once again the cold makes me wrap my arms around myself. I shiver violently when we enter the chilly kitchen. My toes flex on the linoleum, and I spot a men’s white t-shirt on the table. Something smells wonderful from a small pot sitting on the stove.

Tommy heads for the sink and gets a large glass of water, filling it to the top. I take it from him and gulp it down. He looks at me with a cocked head, eyeing my body with unmistakable greed. As soon as I’m done, he takes the glass away from me and moves into my space. My heart thumps hard against my chest as he wraps an arm around my waist, the other hand gently tilting my head back to face him. My breasts flatten against the coarse fabric of his suit as he pulls me close.

“Are you hungry?”

I somehow resist the urge to spit in his face. “Yes.”

“Good. I am, too.”

He fists his hand in my hair and suddenly his soft lips breathe against mine. They’re like liquid fire, spreading warmth to every surface of my body. They make me feel as if I’ve just stepped into a sauna. His hand blazes down my body, groping. I gasp at every pinch of his fingers and then he turns slightly so that his cock digs into my thigh. The cock that I’m about to take into my mouth.

I can just imagine my bright-red face when Tommy pulls away with a knowing grin.

“Are you ready to begin?”

I nod, avoiding his eyes. I’ll probably never be able to look him in the eyes after this.

Tommy sits down in one of the chairs, the pot of stew or whatever it is so tantalizingly close. His erection strains against his slacks. I kneel down to the floor, my knees hitting the hard surface. I bend forward as Tommy’s encouraging smile becomes a leer.

“I’ll start the time when your lips are wrapped around my cock.”

Oh, how generous of you.

Seething, I grab his belt buckle and wind the leather belt out of the loops. I try to do it slowly, and I try to maintain eye contact with him as I unbutton his pants. I only want to do this once, and I have just three minutes.

Three minutes. It seems impossible.

He lifts himself slightly as I unzip his slacks and slowly tug them down to his knees, exposing his muscled thighs. A pair of black boxer briefs barely keeps his cock in place. I tug his briefs down, swallowing hard as his long, thick cock bounces from a bed of trimmed, dark hair.

“Like what you see?”