Heed the Nightmare by J J Carlson

Author:J J Carlson [Carlson, J J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

The knife entered her shoulder, piercing skin and muscle before butting up against bone. Chinara sucked in a deep breath and let out an ear-splitting shriek.

Her cries of pain only encouraged the man holding the knife—the man who had introduced himself as Grigory Romanov. He switched his grip and pried on the knife like it was a crowbar, sending unfathomable bolts of pain through her body.

She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, trying to deny him a moment of satisfaction. He responded by gripping her jaw and kissing her, biting down on her lower lip.

She turned her head away and shouted, “Stop! Why are you doing this? What have I ever done to you?”

“My dear,” he said, licking his lips to taste the blood he had drawn. “This isn’t about revenge. This is about pleasure.”

He backed away from the table he had lashed her to, then he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. “Your pain is my pleasure. Your torment, my ecstasy. Your hell, my heaven.”

He zipped his belt through his belt loops, raised the belt above his head, and whipped the leather against her bare stomach.

When she screamed, his eyes fluttered and his breath caught in his chest. He lashed her again and again, sometimes leaving a mark, sometimes opening a thin gash.

“Please!” she begged. “Just kill me!”

He kissed her again, knocking his teeth against hers. “You are mine,” he growled. “My slave. My toy. You don’t get to choose when it ends.” Suddenly, he fell silent. He paused and cocked his head.

Sapphire watched him. Then she heard it, too—the sound of gunshots in the distance. Hope blossomed inside her, and she took great pleasure from the fear registering on Romanov’s face.

“He’s coming for you,” she whispered. “And he’s going to hurt you so much more than you could ever hurt me.”

He scowled at her. “We’ll see about that.” Crossing the room, he checked to make sure the door was locked and wedged a metal tray under the handle. When he returned to her side, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to look into his eyes. “My men will cut him down, and his body will be used to satisfy the guests upstairs. But I don’t need to wait. I already have what I want.”

He released her and fetched a fork with two sharp tines from a steel shelf. He dragged the tines along her skin, leaving twin marks that ran from her toes to her inner thigh. He twirled the fork in his hand and studied her, searching for the best patch of flesh to puncture.

“Such a beautiful canvas,” he murmured. “But where to start? How about…here?” He gripped the fork with both hands and drove the tines into her left thigh.

She bucked against her restraints, choking on her saliva as she gasped for breath. Numbers flashed at the forefront of her mind, and she tried to focus on them, tried to combine them into something challenging, something that would distract her from the pain.

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