Petar couldn't help but run his eyes over her again. He knew that she wouldn't be happy with the thoughts in his head. Things that were passing throug... his mind; things he could do to her. Her moaning his name as they fucked each other quick and hard on the nearest bar stool. Her gasp jarred him from his thoughts and he looked at her face. He saw where she was looking, so Petar adjusted his stance and looked down to see if that helped hide it. As he turned back to her face, she was now looking. Let’s see how long you can hold your breath,” he growled. Brad wanted to protest, to beg for their captor to please stop, to stop hurting her. But he knew that would be a mistake. After weeks of captivity, he was richly aware of the variety of punishments Mladic was capable of, for even the smallest infraction. To speak without being told to, unless it was to utter just those two simplest of words ‘Yes, Master,’ was completely forbidden. So Brad kept his mouth shut and let the tears leak from. More

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