Captive- Veiled Desires (7 page)

He found her clit and circled it. She moaned. The fact that he had yet to caress her flesh heightened her even more.

She bit into her lower lip. “Jake…”

He didn’t answer, nibbling at the crotch of her thong while expertly pulling off his clothes. Finally, he tugged down her panties. She closed her eyes, eagerly waiting for him to ease his fingers into her. Instead, she felt the velvety tip of his cock caress her clitoris. She held her breath as a tingle of sensation ran up her. Her pussy flowed with her juices as he continued to tease her clit with his cock, pulling and then dipping it back slightly into her hole.

She opened her eyes to watch him straddle her, holding his hard erection in his hand as he ran it ever so gently up and down between the lips of her pussy. She arched her crotch, offering herself up to him. But he only palmed it down, the padding of his thumb pressing delicately onto her clit.

“Jake, please…” she begged.

“Please what?” he rasped back.

“Please, sir.”

He pushed into her entrance, sliding easily into her, filling her to his hilt. She held her breath, his wide girth tantalizing the insides of her core. He pulled her legs apart as he began to rock against her, his balls slapping against her pussy, milking her even more. His rhythm grew stronger, rougher, harder, deeper.

“Cum for me, baby,” he ordered. “Cum, Amy.”

And in obedience, her body spasmed, her pussy clenching as bursts of orgasm rushed up her. She felt him shoot into her, filling her with another set of orgasmic pleasure.

He collapsed over her, his sweaty body chafing against her breasts. She could almost hear his heartbeat racing wildly inside his chest.

She cradled his head, soothing him. However, Nora still lurked there at the back of her mind. She tried brushing her worries aside. She thought the sex would have eased her. And it had very briefly. But now that it was all done, Nora had returned to haunt her again.

Where was she? Where was Nora?

Her wrists hurt her and she writhed in pain. The gag was still in her mouth. How had she breathed during the entire time she was unconscious? Was it even possible?

Nora opened her eyes slowly. She wasn’t resting on a hard floor this time but on the soft padding of a mattress. The bright colors of the bedspread caught her eyes and she tilted her head up slightly to make some sense of where she was.

The flashy curtains ballooned in the light breeze and the stream of fresh air mixed with the scent of jasmine drifted welcomingly to her nose. The change from the dusty dirty cell she was once imprisoned in should have pleased her. But instead it only unnerved her more. Had she been sold to some Arab as a sex slave?

She recalled the last words of her American –Afghan captor. Which of those was he, she still wasn’t sure.
You’re going to be my wife.
She pulled her knees up to herself in fear, trying to peek about her.

“If you promise not to scream, I will take that gag off you,” she heard him say from across the room.

Startled, she tried to peer behind her, but her bound wrists and ankles limited her flections. The man who had introduced himself as Adam Afridi came into her view, his hands in his pockets as he looked down casually onto her. Her eyes welled with tears. How could a man as handsome and defined as he was, do this to her- to a woman? To see her weakened and bound at his mercy? Disgust filled her, shame clouded her face.

“Well?” he asked.

She gave him a slight nod. He sat down before her and dragged her towards him by her feet. He helped her sit up and then reached behind her to untie the towel muffling her. She tried not to focus on his musk tantalizing her senses. He had showered she noticed, and changed into a pair of clean jeans and a tee-shirt. His clothes made a remarkable difference to his persona. His choice of western clothing eased the trepidation inside her.

But he is the same man,
she reminded herself.

Her eyes fell on his chest and sudden warmth spread through her core. His muscles on his biceps strained against the rim of his sleeves. They were strong, they were protective.

Don’t be stupid, Nora. He’d kill you in an instant
, she chanted to herself.

He had protected her against Mateen for a reason. She didn’t know why and the reasons didn’t matter. She had to survive and that was all that was important for the present.

He released the gag from her mouth and she coughed, glad to be rid of the cottony taste in her mouth. She flexed her lips, trying to alleviate the numbness in it, alternating between large mouthfuls of air.

“Don’t worry. I only had the gag placed back when you started stirring,” he said.

Was that supposed to comfort her? She looked at him apprehensively above her brows.
Try stuffing that disgusting rag into your mouth, you bastard.

She dared not say it aloud though. She still had yet to know where he stood with her. With Mateen at least she knew he was an evil psychopath. This man, on the other hand, was unpredictable.

“I’ll remove the binds of your hands and ankles only if you behave,” he said sternly.

She nodded again and he began untying the ropes. He clasped onto the offensive pieces of cords as they loosened off her.

“You must be thirsty,” he muttered, running the ropes through his hands.

He rose up and poured her a glass of water and then ambled up to her with it.

She glanced hesitantly at the glass and then him.

“Here,” he said, handing the glass over to her.

She took it, her hands trembling lightly from the fear his cold stare invoked in her. She sipped from it, keeping an attentive eye on him as she did. Would he turn just as Mateen did? Would he try to beat her up next?

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She didn’t reply, dipping her finger into the water and running it along her parched lips, dampening it. She glanced back up at him and she froze. His gaze was riveted to her lips. She tensed. He had saved her from Mateen. But who would save her from him?

“Freba,” she mumbled with a little quiver. “Where is she?” Her voice croaked from the dryness caught in her throat but she didn’t care. Freba was the only person she felt safe around for the moment. And she couldn’t help feeling clingy over her.

He stepped back from her. “Freba’s back at the house you were held in. She is needed there.”

“Is that far from here?”

“We’re in Kandahar. A good day’s drive from Paktika.”

“Paktika?”

“Where Freba is.”

Her lips trembled. She was alone again. Her eyes scanned the room with increasing alarm. Her breath caught in her throat and she clung to the base of her throat. She felt something caught in it, blocking her airway. She gasped for air and he rushed up to her, grasping her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” he ordered.

But she shook him off her, racing blindly towards the door. He ran after her, only just managing to pull her away before she could reach for the door knob. She slapped him away hard as she cried loudly.

“Stop,” he said, trying to keep her still, but she flung her hands wildly at him.

“Let me go! Let me go!” she screamed at him.

“Nora, stop. Stop!” He slapped her hard across the face, felling her to the floor. “Stop!” He pointed angrily at her.

HAPTER
5

She crouched, pulling her legs up to her chest, as she lay on the floor, crying. “Please, I… want… Freba.” She shivered, unable to string her words into one complete sentence.

She didn’t understand why she was sobbing over a woman she hardly knew. But just knowing Freba would no longer be at reach when she needed her almost felt as if the woman had died.

Adam ran his hands through his hair with frustration. “Well, that’s not going to happen. Now, unless you want to be bound back again, I advise you shut up and behave.”

He moved away, pouring himself a glass of cold tea.  He ambled up to the windows, staring outside it as he slowly downed his tea.

She lay there, on the tiled floor of this strange bedroom, sniveling. Everything was so gaudy and garish about it. Right from the iridescent curtains to the flamboyant bedspread.  Whoever had decorated it was trying desperately to escape the dullness that lay outside this room, and in the process stuffed it with as much color as it could possibly take, inevitably drowning it.

“Sit up,” he commanded.

She realized he had been waiting for her to calm down from her fit over the loss of Freba. She pulled herself up slowly, trembling.

He glared down at her on the floor. “Get up onto the bed.”

She backed away further from him nervously. Why did he want her on the bed? He was not going to…

“Get on the bed!” he demanded. “I’m not going to ask you a third time. We don’t put our women on a pedestal here like you’d expect back home.  So when I tell you to move, you do!”

“No,” she mumbled.
Stop it, Nora. Don’t do it? Are you crazy? Why are you standing up against him?

“What?” he asked in slight disbelief.

“No,” she repeated, lifting up her chin defiantly at him.

His eyes darkened, burning with rage. He marched up to her in two quick strides. “Don’t dare me,” he growled, pulling her up by her hair.

She cried, lashing out at him, trying to release his tight clutch. She felt the skin of her scalp burn as he dragged her by the hair to the bed. He threw her onto it and she fell down face first.

He placed his hands on his hips, huffing with anger. “Don’t make me do that,” he threatened. “You’re not achieving anything by trying such a stunt.”

“I have done nothing wrong,” she bit back. “Why won’t you let me go?!”

“And where is it you’re gonna go?!” he threw back at her. “You’re a Western woman in fucking Taliban ridden Afghanistan. Where is it you’re gonna fucking go?!” He leaned down at her. “You sealed your fate the moment you took that photograph of me,” he whispered menacingly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I would have been more careful if I had l known you were a camel riding Afghan bastard!” she shouted at the top of her voice.

He seethed, striking her face with the back of his hand. “Rule number 1. You will speak to your husband with respect.”

Her cheeks burned. Tears sprung from her eyes, rolling down her face, stinging it even more.
Enough, Nora. This is all you can take for today. Don’t fight him anymore.

He turned away from her. “Have your shower. Change. I’ll send in someone to assist you. It seems you need it.”  His voice had dropped low. “We were supposed to marry this evening but you don’t look up for it at all. I’ll have it postponed to tomorrow.”

“I’m never going to marry you. You can’t make me.” She gritted the words out from between her teeth.

He hung his head down and turned back towards her slowly, his hands now resting in his pockets. He strolled over to her and she cowered back. Was he going to hit her again? She braced herself, her heart racing, her mind readying for the pain that was to come.

He looked at her angrily over his brow. “I’m not quite sure if you’re reckless or just plain stupid. But each time you open your mouth you give me no choice but convince me of the latter.” His eyes narrowed. “Tomorrow, we’re getting married. That’s not a request. It’s a notification. I don’t really care how you feel about it. But tomorrow when the celebrant arrives to marry us, you will open your mouth for the better and say ‘I do’.”

“Why?” She managed to stammer out between her silent sobs. “Is that how it is here? You marry for reasons other than love?”

He frowned. “This isn’t about love.” He turned away again. “I’ll send in someone to help you.”

He began walking away and she instinctively leapt out of bed, racing ahead of him. “Please, I haven’t done anything wrong. I deleted your photograph, I swear.”

He grabbed her suddenly by her shoulders and shook her violently. “This is no longer just about the photographs,” he minced in a low, growling whisper. “Don’t you get it yet? Are you that dumb?” He shook his head. “I have to go.”

“No, please,” she begged, clutching onto his arm. “You saved me from Mateen. I know you have a conscience. You can help me. You know you can.”

He unclenched her hands from his arm and began walking towards the door. But she wouldn’t relent as she rushed up to him again, clutching the back of his shirt.

“Please,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.  Help me. Pleeeasse.”

He pulled her off him again and stepped out the door, closing and locking it behind him.

She stared at the door. She was imprisoned again. She began beating at it, sobbing loudly. “Help me! Let me out of here! Someone help me, please! Some…body…”

She rushed up to the windows, pulling the curtains away savagely, only to find prison-like bars attached externally over the windows. She clung onto the bars, shaking them with all her strength. But they did nothing except rattle the windows.

“Help me! Someone, help me!” she screamed. “Help!” She spotted a woman in traditional blue Afghan
burqa
passing through the private courtyard. “Hey, you,” she called out to her. The woman’s head tilted up at her. Nora didn’t know if she had spotted her, but she had to take her chance. “Help me. Please. I’m… not… I’m held against my will. Please, get help.”

Someone growled at the veiled woman and she immediately shuffled away from Nora’s view.

“No, no,” Nora cried. “Come back! Come back! Please…come… back.”

She slid down to the floor, sobbing.  Tired. Broken. Alone.

From the desert to a house bustling with people. And yet she was alone. No one heard her screams, her cries, her pleas. She was there to bear it all on her own.

She leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Had she indeed sealed her fate with one click of her camera? Her tears streamed down her face silently. She was too weak to cry aloud anymore.

She had demeaned herself. Broken her pride. But being bound and gagged for the second time had completely destroyed any remaining spirit in her. She felt like an animal, harnessed and dragged about at her masters’ pleasures. Now, she was being married. And tomorrow? How would her masters like to be pleased tomorrow?

She began to hum to herself. “Wake me up inside, wake me up inside, call my name and save me from the dark. Bid my blood to run, before I come undone. Save me...” She stopped, interspersed by another onslaught of sobs. “Save me… from… the nothing.” She sniveled, banging the crown of her head against the wall. “From the nothing I’ve become
[9]
.”

She covered her face, weeping uncontrollably. She scrambled up to her feet and raced through the room maniacally, desperately looking for an exit, pulling down curtains and breaking anything that hindered her in the process.

There were no secret exits. Every window in the bedroom was barred with sturdy steel rods. She let out an agonizing scream and tore at the bedspreads with rage.

But like always, no one came. No one responded. Not one soul in that godforsaken place was even fucking curious.

She collapsed to the floor, leaning tiredly onto the bed frame.
Give it up, Nora. You are well and truly fucked.

Adam closed the bedroom doors behind him, ensuring that he had turned the key to lock it. He heard her screaming inside and he clenched his fists.

He glanced to the side and expected to see them stand there. The women of Darul-Ilhaam. He had caught sight of them crossing the courtyard, making their way towards his bedroom. Obviously, they were curious, wanting to know more of the Western woman he had imprisoned within his walls.

But they were also eavesdroppers for their husbands and for anyone who paid them enough to cause him harm.

He turned towards them and smiled. “Let her scream. I don’t want her bothered. And until I permit it, I don’t want anyone entering my bedroom.”

They nodded their veiled covered heads profusely.

He let them whisper in soft undertones as he exited the hallway and into the courtyard. Someone gave him his salaam and he raised a hand to wave at them, trying his best to appear cheerful.

“I heard you’re getting married.” Another slapped his back, startling him. But it was only Basel. He coughed as he tried to pull himself together.

“Yes. But I’m trying to keep it a quiet one, Basel,” he said. “So do me a favor and don’t announce it to the world just yet.”

“Oh, right.” The short, stocky bearded man winked. “It’s one of those ones. I suppose you’re right considering how many hearts you’re going to break as a result of that.”

“Well.” He shrugged. “Sometimes you can’t help stepping over a few to get to the one you want.” He looked uncertainly into the distance. “I have to go, Basel. Some of the vehicles need repairing.”

“Yeah, okay,” the man replied with a frown. “Why do you work on the cars? You know we have our boys to do them.”

“Yeah.” He glanced up at the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in it for miles. “But it allows me to think.”

He strode towards the makeshift rustic tin-shed that acted as the garage. He wanted to get away as far as he could from this dreaded place. But where could he go to escape her cries? No matter where he went, which way he turned, they still loomed loud and echoing in his mind.