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“What the hell do you want with me!?” she asks, her hands tangled in front of her perky chest. I look her up and down and bite the inside of my lip, as if that’s answer enough.

“You’ll see,” I state, coldly, stepping aside and pointing her into the basement.

“Tell me, or I’m not going.”

This time, I can’t stop the grin from overtaking my lips. “What part of ‘you don’t have a choice’ don’t you understand?”

“I understand it full well, I just don’t accept it!”

“What you accept has little influence over these matters. You’re not my date, Catalina... you’re my hostage.”

“I already told you I have nothing to do with Carlos or his father, you idiot!”

I grind my teeth and wipe the smirk from my face. “Let’s find out.” Before Catalina can take another step backwards, I’ve lunged forward and grabbed her arm. The fleshy softness of her bicep curls its way up my grip and I have to stop for a second to process just how good it feels.

Now, if just touching her arm feels so good, how amazing is the rest of this going to be?

Blood rushes below my waist and my pants tighten. The smirk’s fighting its way back onto my lips as I pull her towards the darkness. She struggles at first, but by the time we’re in the doorway, it’s become clear to my hostage that I’m too strong to resist.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers as we disappear into the darkness.

“No promises.”

I haven’t used the ‘special’ room in a long enough time that, at first, I have trouble finding it. I’ve always preferred to go out looking for my trouble, rather than bring it home with me.

Catalina’s pulse has slowed ever since we reached the bottom of the dark stairs. Once I turned on a light, it became obvious to her that this wasn’t some dungeon. The fully furnished hallways of my sprawling underground playpen look more like a mancave than any torture chamber. Sometimes, my men come down here to watch soccer games or play pool... or interrogate hostages.

You see, the entire basement might not be a dungeon, but there is a particular room that is...

Ah, here we go!

I kick open the rusty door and a cool stale breeze greets us. Instead of looking inside, I immediately turn to Catalina. The contents of this room are no surprise to me... but I’m sure there are to her, and I brought her down here almost specifically to see her reaction.

It’s almost as good as I hoped.

She instantly tries to rip herself from my grip. I’m prepared, though. Her fingernails scrape against my biceps and I hold her tight. Her squirms are intoxicating.

“No!” she yelps as I effortlessly drag her inside. “Fuck, I’ll tell you anything, what the fuck do you want to know!? Just tell me!”

She scrambles and claws as I drag her through the torture chamber. Cold hard cobblestone greets her bare feet and dangling metal chains brush up against us as I resist her resistance and pin her up against the nearest wall.

“Angel, please. I’m not a criminal! I can’t handle this.” Her desperate pleas trouble me enough that, after I’ve clamped her into her cuffs, I immediately begin to second guess this whole little side venture.

Catalina’s really scared, and not just like she was when I was weaving through traffic with her wrapped beneath my body; there’s a different kind of fear sparkling in her big brown eyes right now.

I step back to observe her and something kicks inside of me. Catalina’s trembling again... but I’m not getting any satisfaction out of it.

Isn’t this what I wanted?

Obviously not. All that blood that had rushed into my dick when I grabbed Catalina’s warm arm outside is long gone. I just feel empty now, looking at her spread out against the dungeon wall.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

She looks hot, too, spread eagle with her dress riding high enough up her legs that I get a good look at her juicy thighs.

I bite the inside of my lip and the emptiness inside of me recedes just a little bit. The sultry heat pulsing out from Catalina’s helpless body is thrilling enough on its own that it only takes a few moments before a stream of blood rushes back into my dick. It doesn’t feel completely right, though—at least, it doesn’t feel how I was expecting it to. There’s something missing.

“Angel!” she begs, while I silently consider her fate.


Tags: Sasha Leone Criminal Sins Crime