A few weeks ago, I would have succumbed, would have bent under his threats. But I knew better now, could better judge when someone was using my fears against me.

When someone was lying to me.

Giving in wouldn’t save Rafe.

His cock sprang free, and he thrust his hips forward until the tip brushed my cheek. “That’s right,” he said, hissing in a breath. “You know what to do with that mouth, don’t you, honey. Give me a reason not to let my guys break you.”

Saliva collected on my tongue. I opened my mouth, as if I were about to slide my lips over his shaft. Instead, I spit on the tip. “Go fuck yourself.”

I expected anger, even a blow to the face. What I didn’t expect was a resigned grin. “You’re not ready yet, but you will be.” He jerked me up by the hair and marched me to the door where his men undoubtedly waited on the other side. Flinging it open, he pushed me into their strong hands. “You know what to do, guys.”

4. Afraid - Rafe

4. AFRAID - RAFE

Cigarette smoke burned my nostrils, but it didn’t compare to the fire in my muscles. My hands were locked above my head, wrists shackled together, and my feet were anchored to the concrete with chains.

“Hey, Cleft,” someone’s voice thundered through my pounding skull. “I think he’s comin’ to.”

Bodies moved and the putrid air around me stirred. I could hardly lift my head, which felt like a bowling ball on my shoulders. “Where’s Alex?” I mumbled.

Someone slapped my cheeks. “Time to wake up.”

“Whaddya want,” I slurred, forcing my chin up.

The guy in the hoodie stood in front of me, and the dim bulb hanging between the rafters cast his face in light. If not for the hard lines in his skin, I’d guess he was in his mid-twenties. He took a drag from a cigarette, and something flashed in my memory. I couldn’t hold onto it, though the notable cleft in his chin seemed familiar.

“Alex,” I said again, refusing to back down until I got an answer.

“Relax. She’s fine, but whether or not she stays that way is up to you. You hold all the power here.”

“Find that hard to believe,” I said, breath rasping out as I glanced up at my restrained hands, “seeing as how you assholes have me strung up.” I pulled on the chains, and the clank of metal grated. Fucking futile. I glanced beyond the guy they called Cleft. The room spanned deep in a rectangle shape, and a bed sat tucked against a crumbling brick wall on the far end. A display of paddles, whips, crops and other implements of pain hung on hooks. Lighting equipment and camcorders were scattered throughout the space.