Chapter Text
You’d dated the wrong guy—again—though Ben was definitely the worst of the worst, as evidenced by the fact you were stuck in some sort of abandoned warehouse, being restrained by a man who was obviously a terrifying mercenary and being forced to watch as your date was tortured by a man with a mustache who looked like he was getting off on inflicting pain. In that moment, you weren’t sure what emotion was winning out, fear for your life or your own disappointment at yourself for picking the wrong guy. Again.
“You’re really testing my patience, Benny boy,” the man said loudly over the screams of your date after ripping off one of his fingernails. The mustached man threw the tool he’d been using onto the metal table next to where Ben was tied to a chair and sighed. Then, the man’s brilliant blue eyes fell on you and you could see the spark of an idea in his gaze.
You tried to recoil or retreat, but you simply backed into the solid wall of the chest of the man holding you. His hands dug into the your biceps and you winced at the sharp sting of pain. But you were soon distracted by the mustached man standing right in front of you, the flat blade of a knife pressing under your chin and tilting your face up to look at him.
“Do you know who I am, cupcake?” he asked, his voice low and deep.
Despite your fear, the tenor of his voice sent heat curling in wispy tendrils through your lower belly. Shaking your head, you managed a hoarse, whispered, “No.”
The man clucked his tongue, his face and shoulders dropping as he stepped back in a theatrical display of disappointment. “You really should know better, Benny, than to bring innocents into this world,” he taunted in your date’s face before grabbing Ben’s ears and twisting them until he cried out with pain.
When the mustached man was done, he approached you again, but kept his knife to himself. He ducked his head and caught your eye, speaking only to you. “I’m Lloyd Hansen, and your date has information I need, so you’re gonna help me get it, yeah?” he said, raising an eyebrow like he was actually asking—like you really had a choice.
Before you could respond, Lloyd grabbed you by fisting a hand in your hair at the back of your head and wrenching you out of the grip of his associate. He dragged you over so Ben could get a good look at you under the dim lights of the large warehouse room.
“Now, you tell me what I wanna know, Benny boy, or I’m going to slit your girl’s pretty little throat here,” Lloyd said, his voice so charming and friendly it took a moment for the threat to your life to sink in. By that time, he’d already pressed his knife to your throat, hard enough it split the skin, a drop of blood running down your neck.
Fear clouded your mind, your whole body freezing as your breath felt suspended in your lungs. Your only goal in that moment was not to move and accidentally cut yourself deeper on Lloyd’s knife. It didn’t take long for Ben to respond to Lloyd’s threat, and when he did, you almost wished for death.
“Do it,” Ben spit out, blood and saliva dripping down his chin. “Kill the bitch, I don’t care—she means nothing to me.”
The vehemence in his voice sent an arrow of hurt piercing your heart. Sure, you’d only been on a couple dates with Ben—not even since this one had been interrupted by Lloyd and his mercenaries—but the fact that he could be so callous about your life hurt all the same. You’d have hoped your date would have enough sympathy for another human being to at least try to save your life. But apparently not.
You sucked in a breath and squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for Lloyd’s knife to pierce your skin, but the pain never came. When you tentatively opened your eyes, you saw Lloyd staring at Ben with his head tilted to the side, like he was considering your date. After a moment, Lloyd laughed—loud and harsh.
“Jesus Benny boy, you really mean it, don’t you?” Lloyd asked, but it was a rhetorical question. He turned to look at his men. “And people say I’m the bad guy,” he said, exaggerated disbelief in his tone.
Lloyd’s blue eyes landed on you and he removed the knife from your neck, stepping closer to you and pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his black slacks. He held it against the small wound on your neck, cleaning up and staunching the small trickle of blood.
As he held his hand against your throat, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin handkerchief, Lloyd ran his gaze down your body, a greedy look on his face. His eyes took in the way your dress hugged your curves, putting your tits on display before accentuating your waist, then flaring out around your ass. The hem of your dress skimmed around your thighs, your legs bare beneath it down to your heels.
From the way Lloyd’s blue eyes darkened, you got the impression he liked what he saw. A nervous shiver raced down your spine and you cursed your body until it seemed to snap him from his thoughts.
“New idea,” Lloyd declared in that brash voice of his. He stepped away from you, tossing his dirty handkerchief down on the table. Lloyd sat in the empty chair that had been facing Ben and he spread his legs, patting his thigh while looking at you. “Sit down, muffin,” he ordered.
Tentatively, you stepped between his spread legs, turning your back to Lloyd—though you made sure you could still see him out of the corner of your eye—and lowering yourself down on one of his thighs, your body trembling the whole time. You hovered above Lloyd’s thigh, not wanting to sit down fully, and made the mistake of meeting Ben’s eye. Your date glared at you, nothing but hatred in his gaze. It made you flinch and duck your head so you were only looking at the floor.
Lloyd made a tutting sound and wrapped an arm around your waist, yanking you down to sit properly on his lap. You made a surprised squeak but didn’t protest. Your body was tense, but you felt Lloyd loose and relaxed beneath you.
“I wonder, Benny boy,” Lloyd started, his hands running down your body, making you shiver in what you told yourself was revulsion. You refused to believe your body could be responding to his touch. “Have you fucked this tight little pussy yet?” he asked crudely, his hand disappearing under the hem of your dress and shoving between your thighs to grip you over your panties.
You choked on a gasp and squirmed, but Lloyd held you pinned to his lap with his other arm. And the more you squirmed, the more you felt something hard start to poke against your ass. You froze when you realized he was getting aroused beneath you.
“Is that why you don’t care if she dies,” Lloyd went on, his voice friendly, belying his dark words. “Because she hasn’t given it up yet?” His hand flexed, gripping your cunt tighter and you almost sobbed when you felt the unmistakable dampening as your folds started to get wet. You just prayed Lloyd couldn’t feel it yet through your panties.
“Fuck you,” Ben bit out, not even looking at you, just staring at Lloyd.
The mustached psycho clucked his tongue. “Language—you shouldn’t swear in front of a lady,” Lloyd admonished, but there was humor in his tone. He held his hand tightly against your cunt and gripped your chin with the other, turning you to look at him over your shoulder. “Tell me, lollipop, have you and Benny fucked yet?” he asked, his blue eyes boring into your own.
You couldn’t think fast enough to try to strategize about whether it would be better to lie or not, you just found your body reacting instinctively, giving Lloyd what he wanted. “No,” you said, shaking your head slightly in his grip.
Lloyd’s blue eyes darkened and his gaze dropped down to your mouth. You bit your lip to hold back a whimper and his expression seemed to heat. Lloyd hummed in thought, his eyes still glued to your lips. “I bet it’d really grind your gears if I fucked her, wouldn’t it Benny boy?” he asked, loud enough for your date to hear.
Ben struggled against his restraints, cursing at Lloyd, but the mercenary only had eyes for you. You kept your gaze on Lloyd’s face, not wanting to see Ben responding with more fight to the thought of Lloyd taking what he wanted than to Lloyd threatening to kill you. You’d been hurt enough already and you knew you needed to prepare yourself to endure whatever Lloyd had planned.
To your surprise, Lloyd leaned against the back of his chair and patted your ass, urging you to stand. You did, facing him, and before your eyes, he unbuckled his slacks and reached inside, pulling out his hard length. He gripped the base and stroked himself once while you watched, a lewd smirk on his face as his mustache twitched with humor. He was long and hard and thick and if you weren’t scared out of your mind you might have been willing. But one look at the cold determination in Lloyd’s eye told you that you didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Still, you couldn’t help but protest. “No, please,” you whispered, taking a step back from Lloyd, stumbling on your shaky legs.
His hand reached out lightning fast and fisted in the front of your dress. “Panties off, now,” he ordered, fire burning bright in his blue gaze.
Even as you stood over Lloyd, still seated in his chair with his cock in one hand, you knew he held all the power in the room. It was overwhelming. All you could think to do was what he said, reaching up under your dress and pulling your panties down until they snagged around your ankles.
Lloyd bent over, helping you step free of them. But instead of tossing them aside like you’d expected, he held them up to his nose, giving them a obnoxiously loud sniff. “You smell good, snickerdoodle,” he rumbled, before pocketing your panties. Then Lloyd sat back, spreading his legs wide again, and shook his cock in your direction. “Now, fuck me.”
“Please,” you begged again in a thready whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
But Lloyd’s gaze was hard and unrelenting as he stared up at you. “You fuck me or you die, princess,” he said, his mouth twisted up in a smirk and his voice friendly, like he wasn’t forcing you to choose between rape and death.
It wasn’t really a choice. You didn’t want to die. So you set your hands on Lloyd’s shoulders, holding onto him for balance as you slowly moved into position, stepping around his spread legs and placing your feet on either side of the chair. Your legs were shaking so hard you didn’t know how much longer they’d hold you up.
Lloyd let go of his cock, using his hands to bunch up your dress around your waist and get it out of the way. It meant Ben could see everything and you were sure that was Lloyd’s intention. It also meant you had to reach down and grip him in order to line yourself up. His dick twitched in your hand, responding to your touch. At least he looked like he took care of himself properly, his pubic hair as neatly groomed as the mustache on his face.
You lowered yourself down until the head of Lloyd’s cock pushed against your entrance. You weren’t nearly wet enough to take him comfortably, but you weren’t entirely dry either. Squeezing your eyes shut against a wave of shame at that realization, you bit your lip against a whimper.
“Eyes open, sugarplum,” Lloyd ordered, his voice a low rumble. When your eyes popped open, you were met with his satisfied gaze. “Good girl,” he murmured.
His praise did something unholy to your body, your pussy clenching tight as wetness began to trickle from your hole. Thankfully, Lloyd wasn’t inside you, so he couldn’t feel it, but that didn’t stop an embarrassed flush from tinting your cheeks. Not wanting to think too closely about your body’s reaction, or give Lloyd enough time to notice what was going on with you, you pushed yourself down on the tip of his dick until the wide mushroom head slipped inside you.
Lloyd groaned, the sound low and filthy. “That’s it, sweet pea, sit that tight little pussy down on daddy’s dick,” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips tightly while he held your dress up.
Your body clenched again at his filthy words and he moaned, his eyes rolling up as his head lolled back. He looked undone with pleasure and it gave you a sharp, fleeting sense of pride. When Lloyd got control of himself and he fixed his eyes back on you again, he wore a knowing smirk. You looked away, your gaze fixating on his mouth, staring at the curve of his lips and the bristles of his mustache. You’d never kissed a man with a mustache before and you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel like.
To distract yourself from that thought, you sank down another inch on Lloyd’s cock. He groaned again, loudly, but when he spoke, you knew it wasn’t for your benefit. “She feels like heaven, Benny boy,” Lloyd said, exaggerated pleasure in his tone. At least, you thought it was exaggerated. “Her cunt’s so fucking tight, I can barely fit inside.”
You worked yourself down further, rising up and feeling the drag of Lloyd’s dick inside you, making you wetter. It made the slide easier so that when you pushed down again, you took another inch of him inside your pussy. You repeated your motions, your thighs trembling under the effort, but you braced your hands on his shoulder and Lloyd’s constant sounds of pleasure helped spur you on. You’d worried he’d grow impatient with you and force you down on his cock, but he seemed content to let you take your time. You found yourself feeling grateful to him despite the horror of the situation he’d put you in.
When, finally, Lloyd’s cock was buried inside you and you were fully seated on his lap, your thighs sang in relief as you took your weight off your feet. Your body sang too, but you tried to ignore it. A moan built in your throat—he was so big, pushed so deep inside you, further than any man had ever reached, and stretching you around his thick length—but you bit your lip and silenced the sound before it could spill out.
Lloyd noticed, though, and he decided to torture you for denying him your sounds of pleasure. “Tell Benny how wet you are for me, buttercup, tell him how good my cock feels in your sweet little cunt,” Lloyd ordered, one of his hands sliding up your back and fisting in your hair, forcing you to look at your date over your shoulder.
Ben’s face was red with anger and it lit a fire in your body, fury blazing through your limbs. He looked far more torn up about Lloyd’s cock inside you than he did about a knife to your throat. Suddenly, you wanted to do what Lloyd told you. You wanted to make your date suffer. It was his fault you were in this situation to begin with. So you planted your feet again on the concrete floor and arched your back, giving Ben a good look at the sight of your ass rising off Lloyd’s cock before you sank back down, letting a wanton moan fall from your mouth. You watched Ben’s eyes follow the movement of your ass, knowing he could see Lloyd’s cock splitting you open and it only made you gush harder.
“He’s so huge, Ben,” you said on a gasp, catching your date’s eye when he glanced up at your face. You smirked as you continued, saying whatever came to your mind that you thought might piss him off. “It feels like he’s splitting me open, stretching out my tight little cunt with his cock—and it feels amazing.” You moaned loudly, letting your eyes roll back in your head as you slammed down harder on Lloyd’s dick. “I’m so fucking wet—fuck—he feels so good, Ben, I never want him to stop fucking me.”
Your date roared with anger, but you didn’t pay him any mind, turning back to Lloyd. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement and he pulled you down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. His mouth slid against yours, his hips bucking up and fucking you from below, his hand in your hair holding you still as he licked and sucked on your lips, seeking entrance. His mustache tickled your face, but you enjoyed it, parting your lips for him and letting him plunge his tongue inside your mouth. You opened for him, begging him wordlessly to claim you—and he did, enthusiastically.
When Lloyd pulled away, he towed you forward until his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “You’re doing so good for daddy, darling, you’re so fucking perfect,” he said in a low, gravelly voice that you knew was just for you.
A smile worked its way onto your face and you hid it in the crook of Lloyd’s neck. “Thank you, daddy,” you mumbled.
Before you could wonder where those words had come from, Lloyd let go of your hair and grabbed your hips in both hands, bouncing you greedily on his cock. “Cum for me, precious,” Lloyd ordered in a harsh rumble, fucking you mercilessly so that all you could do was hold onto his shoulders and let your head fall back while you moaned uncontrollably. “Cum all over daddy’s cock and show Benny how much you love it when I fuck you.”
Your mind was destroyed, too lost to the physical feeling of Lloyd inside you, that was your only excuse for how you reacted to his words. Your hips ground down on his cock, your clit rubbing against the base of him, and you came hard, throwing your head back on a scream as pleasure overwhelmed your body. You rode out your orgasm in jerky movements.
“Good girl,” Lloyd praised, his hands still on your hips and guiding you to grind against him, drawing out your pleasure. When you whined from the overstimulation, he finally stopped and you realized he hadn’t cum yet. “On your knees, pudding,” Lloyd muttered, his hands helping you off his lap.
The concrete floor was cold and unrelenting against your knees, but your body was so loose and sated you didn’t mind that it hurt a bit. Lloyd manhandled your body gently until you sat back on your heels, your face turned up toward him. He pumped his cock in a tight fist as his hooded blue eyes bored into yours with an intensity you’d never seen on any man before.
“Beg for my cum, honey bee, beg me to mark you with my cum,” he ordered, his voice sinfully low and full of heat.
You had no idea why you complied, in that moment it just didn’t occur to you to deny Lloyd what he asked. “Please, daddy,” you begged in a sweet voice. “Please cum all over my face, mark me with it—show Ben who I really belong to.” You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out as you waited patiently for Lloyd to finish.
It didn’t take him long. With another few strokes, Lloyd was groaning loudly and he came, shooting his load over your face in hot, sticky ropes. It landed on your forehead and across your nose and cheeks, some of it getting on your tongue. You tasted him greedily, humming happily at the musky taste of him. Lloyd watched your reaction, grinning hungrily despite just emptying his load on your face.
With gentle fingers, Lloyd scooped up some of his cum and fed it to you. You kept your eyes locked with his as you licked his cum off his fingers, swallowing it down. Lloyd repeated the action, feeding you his cum and cleaning up your face in the process. Once he was done, he sank down heavily in his chair. His hand rested on the crown of your head and he guided you to lay against his inner thigh, his leg hard with muscle beneath your cheek.
“I think I’ll keep her, Benny boy,” Lloyd said, his voice light like he was chatting about something trivial. But you heard a thread of possessiveness in his tone. “You don’t mind, right?” There was a cruelty to his tone as he rubbed your date’s face in what you’d just done. “You didn’t try to stop me from killing her, so you don’t care if I make her my sweet little fuck toy, do you?”
Ben started cursing up a storm, but you just let your eyes slide closed, melting into Lloyd’s leg while he petted your hair. You sat like that as Lloyd interrogated Ben some more, but your date wouldn’t give up the information Lloyd needed. When you shivered from the cold of the warehouse, Lloyd cut himself off abruptly. He snapped his fingers and his mercenaries melted out of the shadows around the edge of the large room. You’d forgotten about them.
“Dispose of this,” Lloyd commanded his men, waving dismissively at your date. Then he bent down and picked you up, cradling you against his chest. “I’ve got to get my new pet home and tucked into bed.”
It occurred to you that you should put up a fight, that you shouldn’t let Lloyd take you wherever he was going. But then he slid into the backseat of a warm car and wrapped a jacket around your shoulders that smelled like him—spicy and expensive. You were tired and sleepy and you just snuggled deeper into his chest, your face tucked against his neck.
“You’re mine now, aren’t you, darling?” he murmured softly in your ear, his mustache tickling your skin.
Something inside you responded to his words, something that felt like acceptance. You tried to consider his words rationally. He’d forced you to fuck him under threat of death, nothing good could come of anything that started out on such a violent betrayal. But a voice inside you argued that if you’d already seen the worst of Lloyd, it could only get better from there.
It was an insane thought, you knew that. But you were tired of picking men and finding out too late how horrible they were. You were tired of getting hurt and blaming yourself for it. Maybe it was just easier to let yourself be Lloyd’s, to let him choose for you.
Your decision made sense to your sleepy, sated, exhausted mind, and you felt no shame or embarrassment about mumbling a soft, “Yeah.” You snuggled deeper, only feeling contentment in Lloyd’s arms. Your resolve solidified and you further condemned yourself to the fate that found you—leaving it for another time to worry about whether it was good or bad for you. “I’m yours, Lloyd.”