Read Online The Sacrificial Lamb by Elle Fiore - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elle Fiore
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walking down the aisles of Walmart with a shopping cart, and she just couldn’t do it. Even the couple of times she had seen him, she could tell he exuded power and respect. He seemed to have disdain for everything around him as well. No, Mr. Armani would absolutely not shop at Walmart.
Moving quickly, she pulled on a pair of the underwear and then the pants, keeping an eye on the door at all times. She removed the skirt once she was dressed and folded it, placing it in the bag and tossing it under the bed. It was filthy, and she never wanted to see it again anyway. Grabbing the hoodie, Alex put it on and sighed in contentment. Warmth. She would never take it for granted again.
It was a surprise that something so simple could actually make her feel so much better. Yes, her situation was still dire and her outlook dismal, but at least she wasn’t in clothing that made her feel weak and defenseless. Something about wearing pants made her feel tougher—ready to fight if necessary. She would have preferred a comfy pair of runners to the ballet flats she was currently in, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least she knew if she got a chance to run, they would suffice.
The guard who came in to give her dinner did a double take when he saw her. Alex was sure he must have realized where the clothes had come from, and who knew what conclusions he had drawn. Her guess was that most captives weren’t treated to a new wardrobe, even if it was just a sweat suit. After that initial glance at him, she kept her eyes averted and tried to look properly frail and delicate.
Part of her plan of escape was to make sure they underestimated her and thought she was just a weak young girl. Complacency on their part was the key. Once they got comfortable that she wouldn’t take the opportunity to fight, that was when she would make her move. In order to do that, however, one of the men needed to be alone. She was shooting for Mr. Meek—he’d never see it coming. Tall and scrawny, he might be easy to knock down if caught off guard.
The mean one though, he was a different kettle of fish. He was still wary and cautious, making sure he had his weapon within reach at all times. He wasn’t as cautious as during those first couple of days, but it seemed he would never fully drop his guard.
Alex should have known better than to think she’d found a means of escape, but she was nothing if not tenacious. The next time she was alone with a guard, she would execute her escape plan. She just prayed that there would be a next time.
9
D OMENIC W AS B ACK in that dingy warehouse room. The light was flickering, throwing everything into shadow, and he was on top of the girl. Only this time he wasn’t pretending, and she wasn’t fighting. She was no longer trying to get him off of her body. Instead, everything she did brought them closer together. Her hips were moving against his to increase the depth of his thrusts. Her back was arched so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her legs were locked around him, heels spurring him to increase his pace. He still had her wrists locked in one of his hands, but it wasn’t to keep her restrained, it was an act of surrender.
His other hand was still buried deep in her hair, pulling her head to the side—his mouth on the smooth expanse of her neck. Instead of screaming in terror, she was moaning in ecstasy. He was so close to release, but something was holding him back. With every thrust, he could feel the tension coiling in his body. It was getting tighter and tighter, but still he couldn’t finish.
The ache in his groin finally grew to the point where it woke Domenic from his dream. Groaning, he put one hand on his pounding head and the other on his throbbing dick.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mumbled to himself. Domenic hadn’t had a sex dream that vivid since he was a teenager, and even then at least he got a happy ending. Messy, but happy.
To make matters worse, he had to pee
Moving quickly, she pulled on a pair of the underwear and then the pants, keeping an eye on the door at all times. She removed the skirt once she was dressed and folded it, placing it in the bag and tossing it under the bed. It was filthy, and she never wanted to see it again anyway. Grabbing the hoodie, Alex put it on and sighed in contentment. Warmth. She would never take it for granted again.
It was a surprise that something so simple could actually make her feel so much better. Yes, her situation was still dire and her outlook dismal, but at least she wasn’t in clothing that made her feel weak and defenseless. Something about wearing pants made her feel tougher—ready to fight if necessary. She would have preferred a comfy pair of runners to the ballet flats she was currently in, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least she knew if she got a chance to run, they would suffice.
The guard who came in to give her dinner did a double take when he saw her. Alex was sure he must have realized where the clothes had come from, and who knew what conclusions he had drawn. Her guess was that most captives weren’t treated to a new wardrobe, even if it was just a sweat suit. After that initial glance at him, she kept her eyes averted and tried to look properly frail and delicate.
Part of her plan of escape was to make sure they underestimated her and thought she was just a weak young girl. Complacency on their part was the key. Once they got comfortable that she wouldn’t take the opportunity to fight, that was when she would make her move. In order to do that, however, one of the men needed to be alone. She was shooting for Mr. Meek—he’d never see it coming. Tall and scrawny, he might be easy to knock down if caught off guard.
The mean one though, he was a different kettle of fish. He was still wary and cautious, making sure he had his weapon within reach at all times. He wasn’t as cautious as during those first couple of days, but it seemed he would never fully drop his guard.
Alex should have known better than to think she’d found a means of escape, but she was nothing if not tenacious. The next time she was alone with a guard, she would execute her escape plan. She just prayed that there would be a next time.
9
D OMENIC W AS B ACK in that dingy warehouse room. The light was flickering, throwing everything into shadow, and he was on top of the girl. Only this time he wasn’t pretending, and she wasn’t fighting. She was no longer trying to get him off of her body. Instead, everything she did brought them closer together. Her hips were moving against his to increase the depth of his thrusts. Her back was arched so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her legs were locked around him, heels spurring him to increase his pace. He still had her wrists locked in one of his hands, but it wasn’t to keep her restrained, it was an act of surrender.
His other hand was still buried deep in her hair, pulling her head to the side—his mouth on the smooth expanse of her neck. Instead of screaming in terror, she was moaning in ecstasy. He was so close to release, but something was holding him back. With every thrust, he could feel the tension coiling in his body. It was getting tighter and tighter, but still he couldn’t finish.
The ache in his groin finally grew to the point where it woke Domenic from his dream. Groaning, he put one hand on his pounding head and the other on his throbbing dick.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mumbled to himself. Domenic hadn’t had a sex dream that vivid since he was a teenager, and even then at least he got a happy ending. Messy, but happy.
To make matters worse, he had to pee
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