Captured

Chapter 11

* Trigger warning *

"You're disgusting," I spat at Kane when I was thrown back into his office. "One of your men attacked me and pulled out a knife. I acted in self defence!"

I spun around to watch him close the door behind him, his movements calm and slow. He turned back to me and raised an eyebrow while I crossed my arms and huffed. "It was him or me... so it was him."

"I'm not interested in the details," he answered, moving past me. "I'm sick of you causing trouble."

"So let me and my friends leave and I'll never bother you again," I stated, frowning when, rather than opening the cell door, he moved to the door on the opposite side of the office, behind his desk. "What are you doing?"

He went inside, leaving the door open so I could see inside. The door opened into a fairly big living room with a couple of comfortable looking sofas. On the opposite side of the living room was a kitchen, only a small one with a few counters, a fridge-freezer and a cooker.

"Do you live here?" I asked him, not daring to take a single step closer.

"Yes," he answered, taking me by surprise. He turned to see me still lingering in the office and sighed. "Let's go," he muttered, turning back to face me and charging forward. Within only a few seconds, he was dragging me inside.

We crossed the living room and he forced me through another door, sealing it shut behind me. I halted when he released me, trapping me in what I could only assume was his bedroom. There was a double bed pushed against the far wall with a chest of drawers beside it and a few wardrobes on the other side. I turned in a panic, my eyes wide while Kane locked the door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snapped, shaking my head. "If you think that I am going to-."

"You don't really have a choice!" He bellowed, fury flashing in his eyes.

All I could do was shake my head. "There's no way, I'd rather die."

He scoffed and stepped forward so we were toe to toe. "You may be strong willed-," he hissed. I resisted the urge to step backwards and stared right back at him with as much strength as I could muster. "-but physically? You're hardly a match for me."

I knew that he was right. But that didn't stop me from trying. There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to submit to him just like that and all I had was the element of surprise. So I nodded my head in submission before swinging my fist into the side of his face.

I shot towards the door when he faltered, desperate to get away from him. When I reached the door, I fiddled with the key urgently before I was yanked backwards and sent flying onto the bed.

"Give it up," he snapped, "you aren't going anywhere. This was always inevitable, we need to carry on the human race and this is how it works."

I grit my teeth. I wanted to scream and cry and beg him not to touch me. But I also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He already thought of me as weak. I wouldn't give him any sort of evidence that I was.

"I hope you rot in hell," I snapped.

His lips quirked slightly and he stalked forwards, placing a hand on either side of me on the bed, caging me in. "This is happening. Whether I have to tie you to the bed and rip your clothes off you, is your choice."

I scowled up at him, feeling so much hatred in that moment, not just for him, but for every man before him. Every single one of them that forced me into submission. Every one that looked at me like I was theirs to destroy if that is what they desired.

I kept my eyes locked on his and grit my teeth. With slow movements, I reached down and undid the button holding my trousers up. It felt like defeat as the corner of his mouth twitched, his eyes glowing in approval.

However, I continued, knowing that removing my own clothing and giving myself to him was the only control I had left. I wouldn't let him take me. Not ever.

He leaned back so I could slide the material down my legs, my eyes still locked on his, showing him that I couldn't be beaten. That he hadn't won. He hadn't broken me.

He began unbuckling the belt around his waist, the sound filling the silence of the room. Once I was no longer covered by my clothes, I looked away from him, finding a small dent on the wall beside my head. I couldn't watch him take me in. I couldn't see the victorious look in his eye while I lay naked beneath him.

I felt him leave the bed before hearing the thud of his belt hit the floor. The rest of his clothing soon followed and when he returned to his position above me, I felt the bare skin of his thigh brush against my own.

It made me cringe, knowing exactly what was coming next. I knew the process well enough, it wasn't exactly the first time someone had taken what they wanted from me with complete disregard for my choice.

I waited, holding my breath until I felt skin press against my opening. It felt small and I couldn't help but look to see that it was his finger, brushing up and down against me. "What are you doing?" I snapped.

He didn't look at me, his own eyes fixed on his finger. "Getting you ready," he growled back.

A strange sensation hit my stomach as he continued, the light touch so different from what I was used to. After a few moments, he pushed his finger inside of me and began to move it around, causing an ache to form in me.

I returned my gaze to the dent in the wall, not wanting him to see my confusion and then what I can only describe as desperation. Whatever he was doing to me, it had to be a punishment because I couldn't stop myself from rocking my hips, wanting some sort of relief.

After a while, he removed his fingers and they were replaced by something much larger and much thicker. I screwed my eyes shut. This was the part I knew well. The pain and agony that accompanied this act.

I was surprised when, unlike other men, he didn't force himself inside of me in one violent thrust. Instead, he pushed in slowly, stopping every now and then for a minute or two, his fingers returning to brush the skin around my opening.

Finally, he pushed all the way inside of me and began rocking his hips. Unlike other men, he didn't try to kiss me or touch me. He simply did what he needed to do in order to get me pregnant.

He wasn't as loud as other men either. Occasionally, he grunted from the back of his throat, but other than that, he was quiet until towards the end when his breathing became ragged.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly at the feeling. I must've become used to the act because I kept waiting for the pain, for the agony of the fire that raged inside of me. But it never came. Instead, I only ached.

I heard the tell tale sound of a deep groan pulled from the back of his throat before feeling something fill me. He'd done whatever it was he needed to do to put the baby inside of me.

"Done?" I asked when he pulled out of me, grabbing a handful of tissues from beside the bed. He eyed me for a moment before nodding. "Then can I go?"

He ignored me, keeping one hand on my hip while he wiped the fluid that covered him. When he was clean, he moved to me and cleaned the inside of my thighs and around my opening.

"You can go," he finally said, climbing off of me and starting to redress.

With the aching feeling still present, I shoved my own clothes back on, shifting uncomfortably. As soon as I was dressed, I made my way back to the office and waited outside of the cell, well aware that he wasn't about to let me leave the office.

He followed behind me, a curious look on his face as he unlocked the door. I was just about to step in when the office door swung open and Calla was thrown inside.