Captured by the Mafia (Completed)

Chapter 7

Pete 

My eyes burn, my head throbs, and a coldness fills my veins. I try and swallow, but my throat burns feels like fifty-grit sandpaper. My tongue is heavy in my mouth and every single breath I take is labored. I try and lift my arms and legs but nothing works. I feel broken. I will my eyes to open, but they don't. "Her fever is back up." A deep rumbling voice fills my ears. "That's going to happen, boss. She's fighting an infection. It'll be a couple of days before we see any real improvement." That same voice lets out a loud sigh, and I feel the bed dip beside me. I flicker through the memories in my mind... trying to put a face to the voice. The image of a man with dark hair and even darker eyes appears before me. Vegas. "Don't die on me, Mouse," he whispers, so softly I barely hear him. I think I feel his lips graze my forehead, but I cannot be sure. Questions burn deep inside of me. Why is he caring for me? Shouldn't he have just killed me? I'm not of any use to him now. Our agreement appears in my mind, and I wonder if he's going to end things now. He probably should. It would be easier, right? I feel trapped, caught between four walls that are slowly closing in around me. I cannot cry or scream. I can't do anything to let him know that I am here...with him. I try and mumble, move my limbs, anything at all, but everything starts to fade out again. A buzzing fills my ears and within seconds, I'm gone... floating through endless darkness. Maybe I'm already dead? I can't tell the difference between reality and dream anymore. When I awake again, it feels like it's only been a second, but there is no way that is possible. Warmth blankets my body, and I want to snuggle deep into it. I wonder why I'm unable to move or speak but can't communicate my fears. 

After what seems like an eternity, I am finally able to peel my eyes open again. I blink a few times, making sure I'm really awake now and not still in limbo. My surroundings become clearer with each blink and then I suddenly see the person sitting in front of me. "Welcome back to life, little mouse." For a long time, I just look at him. I'm still trying to put all the pieces back together. How did we end up in this moment? I feel like I am missing part of the story. Unable to connect from offering him my body for survival to him caring for me in his bed. Something must have happened in between those two events that I don't know about. "Why?" It hurts to speak but I ask the question anyway. Vegas's brow furrows in confusion as if he doesn't understand what I am saying. "What do you mean why?" I try and say something else, but I cannot get the words past my lips. Vegas passes me a glass with water in it, and I take it into my shaky hands. As soon as it touches my dry lips, I swallow it down, drinking from the cup greedily until Vegas pries it from my grasp. "That's enough. You'll get sick if you drink too much, too fast." I nod in understanding, placing my hands in my lap. I realize then as the soft sheets move against my bare skin that I am, in fact, completely naked. Did we? Did he? My mind is a mess of thoughts, but I'm certain I'd remember if we had done anything to that extent. I lift my gaze to his. He's watching me again, his face void of emotion, and I wonder why he does that. Hides his emotions from the people he's talking to. Maybe he thinks he's safe that way? I don't really know, but when it comes to understanding others, I always try and read between the lines, and reading between the lines is the only way I think Vegas can be understood.

"Why did you care for me?" I finally ask. Vegas smirks. "There is no way I was going to let you die before I got to claim your virgin hole, Mouse. Good hole is hard to come by nowadays." My cheeks heat immediately. He cannot actually mean that, right? He didn't save me just so he could fuck me. "I don't believe you," I blurt out, feeling hurt. I remember his lips on my forehead, his voice a beacon of light in the darkness. Vegas smiles, and it's sinister, sickening, and suddenly I wish I never asked him why he saved me. "How do you know I didn't already fuck you?" "Because you're not that vile of a monster." I regret the words as soon as they're spoken. In a second, Vegas is above me, his hand wrapped around my throat. Fear spikes deep inside of me. Had I just fought an infection only to die because I can't keep my mouth shut? Vegas leans into my face. I can smell him; his scent surrounds me. His mouth is inches from mine, and I consider what may happen if I were to kiss him, but the thought slips away as soon as he starts to speak. "I'm every bit as vile as my father, and I'll do to you the same fucking things he will. Don't think that just because I saved your life that I want you around for more than a hole to fuck. You're nothing, Mouse, nothing but a place for my dick." I feel my lips trembling, and tears blur my vision. "Okay," I whisper softly, all while knowing deep down inside he has no idea that I heard his words, that I know how he truly feels. That his voice brought me out of the darkness and back to harsh reality. In an instant, he's off of me and pushing from the bed. "Our agreement is still on. I'll give you twenty-four more hours to gain your strength but that's all the mercy you'll receive from me." I don't understand the hot and cold he gives off. I know he wanted me to live. I heard the anguish in his words, but now that I am awake, he seems angry, as if he had hoped that I wouldn't make it.

"You could've just left me to die. You didn't have to put all this work into it," I whisper, pushing up on the mattress, trying to right myself into a more seated position while pulling the blanket up and over chest. I feel something pulling at my arm and look down to see what looks like a spot for an IV that must've been put into my arm. "And let you die so easily?" I lift my gaze to his and find amusement twinkles in his eyes. "I think it'd be more fun to fuck you until you can't take anymore, then let you just fade away from illness." His words are cruel, so very cruel, but I can't lash out at him for saying them. No, that'll just get me killed, and I'm already running on borrowed time. Yet I let my next words escape my lips without thought. "You don't mean that, Vegas." "And why the fuck not?" He stops dead in his tracks, looking every bit the monster that he wants everyone to believe he is. "Because I heard you. I heard you tell me not to die. I know you didn't want to lose me." He clenches his fists at his sides and then strides right back over to the bed. I wonder for a second if he will actually hurt me. The fire in his eyes flickers, and I know I've gone and fanned the damn flames, igniting an inferno deep inside of him. Gripping the edge of the blanket, he pulls it from my grasp. I gasp at the sudden coldness that blankets my skin, stealing every ounce of warmth from my body. I feel his gaze on my bare body and try and cover myself up with my hands. I swallow around the knot of fear that I cannot get to go down. When I feel his hands grip onto my thighs and pry them apart with brute strength, I cry out. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? "Please, no..." I don't want this to happen this way, not between us. I thrash back and forth against the mattress, feeling my already weakened body giving out.

"But isn't that what you want? Me to show you how big and bad I can truly be? Don't you want to see how far I'll go before I snap?" he snarls directly into my face. His fingers break my thighs apart and I feel him, his hand hot at my center. Without further warning, he slams two fingers inside me and holds them there. My body stiffens at the sudden intrusion, but when he doesn't move, I can feel myself soften into his touch. His eyes roam over bare body, the heat in them slowly dissipating. By the time he reaches my face, his eyes have completely softened, and it seems as if he's lost the sharp jagged edge needed to push forward. The fear I felt moments before fizzles away into warmth that fills my belly. Feeling his thick fingers inside me makes me long with need. I feel full, impossibly full, but it doesn't hurt. A long silence stretches between us but neither one of us breaks eye contact. Then he starts moving out of me slowly and before I know what I'm doing, I grab his wrist, holding him in place. Confusion flickers across his eyes briefly. "Do you want me to make you come, Mouse?" His voice is kind, soft, and I already know the answer. I bite my bottom lip nervously. "Yes," I murmur almost inaudibly. An evil grin tugs on his lips, and he starts moving his finger back inside of me. My breath hitches. Now that my body was expecting it, my reaction to his touch changes. His fingers inside me don't feel like an intrusion any longer. They feel like they belong there and nowhere else. He moves them in and out of me in a slow steady rhythm and it feels like heaven. I have to fight the urge to close my eyes in pleasure because for some strange reason, I want to see him looking at me, watching me as I fall apart. My hold on his wrist is firm, but only because I want to touch him, and I'm not sure where else he'll allow me to put my hands. Pleasure zings through me with every deep stroke of his fingers. 

My heart flutters around inside my chest like a butterfly trying to break free. His movements are gentle, kind, and it's so unlike him, unlike the man he wants me to believe he is that it's almost terrifying. "Come for me, Mouse. Come all over my hand." He stares me down, pulling the pleasure out of me with nothing more than a command. A small moan I can't hold back escapes me. My chest heaves, feeling things I've never felt before. My nipples pucker, and my body shivers. My hole clenches, squeezing his fingers hard, but he continues his slow and sensual strokes and then he curls his fingers upward inside me, hitting some spot that draws unbelievable pleasure out of me. Unable to keep my eyes open any longer, they shut without me wanting them to. My head falls back into the pillow as a wave of pleasure washes over me, taking with it pieces of my soul. My body tingles and I lie there for a moment, trying to get my eyes to open again. When I do, here moves his fingers just as quickly as he entered them. I feel cold at the loss of his touch, and I reach for the blanket, wrapping it around my body. I don't even get a chance to say anything to him because he's up and out the door in a flash, leaving me behind in his bed, breathless and more confused than ever. What the hell just happened? Again, he's hot, hotter than the sun and then cold in an instant, as if something inside him snaps and he turns off that viciousness. He wants to be kind to me. I can feel it and see it, even if he doesn't want me to. He is kind, and that's the part of him I think he's scared of most... me seeing him as more than the monster hidden in the shadows