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Authors: Capri Montgomery
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privilege of hearing you scream with all the things I will do,” he licked her earlobe again. The man seemed to like licking ears.
“Now finish. Dinner is waiting for us in what I am sure will be the most beautiful room you have ever eaten in.”
She applied the hint of eye shadow. She didn’t need liner because her lashes were naturally thick and dark and they made her eyes appear as if they were lined even when she didn’t use liner. She painted her lips red like he wanted. It was hideous in her opinion. She hated red lipstick on her—especially the striking reds. She looked like a clown meets high class escort. Her lips were always better when bathed in a subtle shade of some variation of soft mauve-pink or a deep burgundy red. Flaming red was not her color, but he seemed to like it because he did nothing less than rave about his choice. He wanted her to like it too. When she didn’t say anything, or give any hint of agreement, he clasped hold of her arm and jerked her toward him.
“I said it is beautiful, wouldn’t you agree;” he stated again.
“I look better with softer shades.” He could stroke his own ego. She had a brain and she wasn’t going to let him turn her into some weak mouse that only formed the opinion he wanted her to.
“We shall see. I will have Ramón go shopping for more lipsticks for you. And we need better underwear for you too. Your breasts are smaller than I usually play with,” he chuckled. “I like them. I think they will fit perfectly in my mouth.”
She shivered just thinking about his words and how utterly repulsive they were. It wasn’t that she was a prude and didn’t like dirty talk. It was just that she would rather hear it come from the right man, not her captor. She would rather have Micah tell her how much he liked her breasts and all the things he could do with them. Thinking about Micah made her wish for home. If they had just left a few days later then even if she and Kelly had taken the adventure tour they wouldn’t have run across the drug smugglers. Kelly would still be alive and she would still be free. If maybe they hadn’t gone on the tour at all and had done something less adventurous instead, then none of this would have happened. She didn’t have the power to go back in time and change things. She knew she shouldn’t dwell on the “what if” of the situation. The “what if” thoughts could destroy a person’s soul if they dwelled on them, but right now there wasn’t much else she could dwell on. She thought about Kelly and it made her feel empty. She thought about Micah and Alex, Jet and Preston and it made her wish she were home. It made her wish that they would come reclaim the package—that they would search for her and rescue her like they had so many people before her. But now, in the wake of landing in Colombia and being here at Diego’s home, she wasn’t sure rescue would happen for her. She was a prisoner here, and she probably would be until the day she died. No one would come for her because nobody knew where she was. The reality of that sentiment had her heart breaking into tiny pieces. She was on her own, and unfortunately she didn’t have a clue as to how she would get out of here. That is she didn’t have a clue as to how she could get out without giving her body to Diego Valdez.
Sure, she could play the captive with Stockholm syndrome route, but that would mean convincing the man that she was starting to enjoy him, his company, his touch, his kisses. She would have to pretend to want him so that he would relax his security on her and maybe take her into the city where maybe then she could escape. But that would take weeks, maybe even months and she didn’t want to go along with that idea. She wanted to keep her body safe. She didn’t want him anywhere near it, yet she knew, unless a miracle happened, tomorrow night he would take exactly what he wanted to have. He would take her.
She sighed
“Now finish. Dinner is waiting for us in what I am sure will be the most beautiful room you have ever eaten in.”
She applied the hint of eye shadow. She didn’t need liner because her lashes were naturally thick and dark and they made her eyes appear as if they were lined even when she didn’t use liner. She painted her lips red like he wanted. It was hideous in her opinion. She hated red lipstick on her—especially the striking reds. She looked like a clown meets high class escort. Her lips were always better when bathed in a subtle shade of some variation of soft mauve-pink or a deep burgundy red. Flaming red was not her color, but he seemed to like it because he did nothing less than rave about his choice. He wanted her to like it too. When she didn’t say anything, or give any hint of agreement, he clasped hold of her arm and jerked her toward him.
“I said it is beautiful, wouldn’t you agree;” he stated again.
“I look better with softer shades.” He could stroke his own ego. She had a brain and she wasn’t going to let him turn her into some weak mouse that only formed the opinion he wanted her to.
“We shall see. I will have Ramón go shopping for more lipsticks for you. And we need better underwear for you too. Your breasts are smaller than I usually play with,” he chuckled. “I like them. I think they will fit perfectly in my mouth.”
She shivered just thinking about his words and how utterly repulsive they were. It wasn’t that she was a prude and didn’t like dirty talk. It was just that she would rather hear it come from the right man, not her captor. She would rather have Micah tell her how much he liked her breasts and all the things he could do with them. Thinking about Micah made her wish for home. If they had just left a few days later then even if she and Kelly had taken the adventure tour they wouldn’t have run across the drug smugglers. Kelly would still be alive and she would still be free. If maybe they hadn’t gone on the tour at all and had done something less adventurous instead, then none of this would have happened. She didn’t have the power to go back in time and change things. She knew she shouldn’t dwell on the “what if” of the situation. The “what if” thoughts could destroy a person’s soul if they dwelled on them, but right now there wasn’t much else she could dwell on. She thought about Kelly and it made her feel empty. She thought about Micah and Alex, Jet and Preston and it made her wish she were home. It made her wish that they would come reclaim the package—that they would search for her and rescue her like they had so many people before her. But now, in the wake of landing in Colombia and being here at Diego’s home, she wasn’t sure rescue would happen for her. She was a prisoner here, and she probably would be until the day she died. No one would come for her because nobody knew where she was. The reality of that sentiment had her heart breaking into tiny pieces. She was on her own, and unfortunately she didn’t have a clue as to how she would get out of here. That is she didn’t have a clue as to how she could get out without giving her body to Diego Valdez.
Sure, she could play the captive with Stockholm syndrome route, but that would mean convincing the man that she was starting to enjoy him, his company, his touch, his kisses. She would have to pretend to want him so that he would relax his security on her and maybe take her into the city where maybe then she could escape. But that would take weeks, maybe even months and she didn’t want to go along with that idea. She wanted to keep her body safe. She didn’t want him anywhere near it, yet she knew, unless a miracle happened, tomorrow night he would take exactly what he wanted to have. He would take her.
She sighed
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