3. Knox

CHAPTER 3

Knox

M y cock is so hard staring at Gemma's sweet ass that I'm having a hard time keeping my thoughts straight. I don't need her for any of this. I can easily break her father's jaw to get my money, but men with pretty daughters tend to work faster when their daughters are in danger. Unless, of course, her father's a piece of shit. Well, either way, I'm going to have my way.

She's begging, pleading, stalling for more time as she speaks, "You said you'd give us a day, twenty-four hours. Give me that time to find Paulie?—"

"And call the police? The police who aren't going to do shit because I'm the Sandman. They don't like me, Gemma."

"I like you."

I slap her ass so hard she sucks in air through clenching teeth before blowing out a breathy scream. "Oh God."

"That's what you get for lying. I have a plan that will have you back home very soon. I already have a script for you to read. Just look straight ahead into that camera."

The way her eyes shoot up sends a shiver down her spine. Her phone is sitting in a mount on a tripod with the screen facing us. "You're recording this? Us? You're on camera with me?"

I wrap my hand around her ponytail, yanking her head to the side. My tongue snakes its way up her neck, making her whimper and tremble. The fear radiating from her body is such a fucking turn-on. The only thing on camera is her tits dangling out of the top of her shirt.

The sheet of paper I have for her is on a nearby table in this small room in the basement . The great thing about this space is no one knows it's here. A vacant plot of land on a plot of land in Yonkers that holds two sheds. One is empty, and the other is a studio apartment setup for use at my discretion. It's always useful when I need to keep people out of sight.

I swipe the piece of paper off a table and place it on the seat of the chair. I sit on the bed behind her. I can't wait, pulling out my cock to stroke it. My hope is for the erection to die down, but looking at her sweet ass in those soft panties has me on edge. I feel like an addict who needs a hit.

"Don't move," I warn her as I slide those panties down to lick her ass cheek.

"Please. You don't have to do this," she whimpers.

My fingers slide between her slit, dipping inside her soaking-wet walls and stroking her while I jerk myself off. Her pleas for me to stop go silent as her moans of lust, her sexual needs being met, shove away any apprehension.

"Please don't make me come. Oh… Oh, God. Fuck, yes." Gemma's words fall on deaf ears as I make her come all over my finger. I suck her juices off my finger and move my hand around to her mouth for her to do the same.

"Suck it. Show me how you like to suck it," I tell her. Each breath between us comes quicker as she uses her mouth to mimic the very motions she'd use on my cock. "Yeah, just like that. Fuck, I need you."

Her moans and whimpers of fear blend into a melody of lustful anticipation. However, my release is quick as I come with my cock still in my other hand. My cum spurts and drips onto her ass, down the back of her leg.

The way her body relaxes shows her relief that I didn't fuck her. Too bad, the relief will be short-lived. My dick's still hard and I'm getting my second wind. I pull my finger out of her mouth and slip it back inside her cunt. Fuck, she's still sopping wet.

My restraint vanishes as I rub the tip of my cock at her entrance. Up and down, up and down, and in. The way her walls contract around me sends my pulse through the roof. I fit perfectly inside of her as I stroke in and out.

I reach around the front and tear her blouse. Buttons fly as she grunts with every thrust of my cock burying itself to the hilt. I unsnap her bra and watch her titties sway in the camera as I fuck her from behind.

"Read the script, Gemma," I tell her between thrusts.

"Fuck you," she snarls.

I slap her ass harder than the last time.

"FUCK!" she shouts.

"Read it, and I'll stop," I tell her even though I don't want to.

"I'm not reading shit." Her words of defiance enthral me to fuck her harder, deeper, faster. She's afraid to say she likes this.

When I pull out to see her cum all over my cock, my eyes nearly roll to the back of my head. Her walls love me, and her body loves this.

"Look at how hard your titties are? You like this cock, don't you?" I stop pushing in and out of her.

Gemma takes a beat to catch her breath. The hesitation in her answer betrays her confusion.

"It's okay if you like it, Gemma," I sing to her as I resume stroking the softest pussy I've ever had.

"Fuck you, just finish so we can get on with it. I can't read while you fuck me," she pants and stills her body.

"Your wish is my command." I chuckle and finish fucking her. Every stroke, every push, every pull, every thrust. It's all better than the last. The sounds of her wetness coating me with her pleasure are the only sounds I can hear.

I reach around to grab her tits, fondling and squeezing them as I pump into her pussy with speed and primal vigor. The urge to come inside of her, to claim her, to make her body mine is overwhelming. The way I slide into her effortlessly as she begins to moan with her next orgasm has me on the edge.

A few more strokes and my body constricts as it shoots my release inside of Gemma.

"Oh fuck, I needed that." I huff and put my dick away. "Thanks. Now, read the damn paper before I fuck you for the next eight hours nonstop."

Another pause, hesitation in her reply. Instead of saying what she wants about me fucking her for hours on end, she speaks softly, "Um, okay. This message is for you, Pop. You need to have Paulie and the watches, or Paulie and the money in the car that was jacked by tomorrow, Thursday night. You'll have until 10 p.m. or you can pick up pieces of me where the robbery took place."

The sobs come after she realizes what the message says. I walk around to stop her phone from recording. A grin spreads across my face as I watch the playback. It only takes a few minutes to chop the video into segments.

I only send the audio of her reading the demands of her release to her father. The video airdrops to my wireless hard drive, and her father calls her back moments later.

"I guess Daddy finally checked his messages. Let's see what he has to say." I smile, pressing the green button to answer the call. "Good evening, Mr. Arnold."

"You sick son of a bitch—" The anger in his voice lets me know he received the recording.

"Language. My mother has nothing to do with this. This is your fault, Mr. Dennis Arnold, owner of Gold Royale Luxury Transport. Residential address of 765 Van Duger Road, Staten Island, New York. Shit, that's a fucking commute. Oh wait, you don't commute. You allow this beautiful woman to open and close up shop by herself. You should know how dangerous that is, Mr. Arnold."

"Is Gemma alright?" he finally asks.

"She's just perfect," I tell him, blowing her a kiss. She snarls and rolls her eyes. I return my attention to the call. "You have your instructions. As soon as you get my things back, Mr. Arnold, you'll get your things back."

"You'd better not hurt her, you animal," he growls into the phone.

I put the phone on speaker so Gemma can hear her father's words loud and clear. I ask him, "I'm sorry, can you say that again? I didn't quite catch that."

Dennis roars into the phone, shouting angrily. "You'd better not touch a hair on her fucking head."

I can't help but laugh. "It's too late for that, Daddy-Oh. Get me what you stole, and maybe I'll leave parts of her untouched."