by H S Russell
Just thinking about her makes my cock ready to go back in.
Standing by the doorway, I take a moment to watch her sleep. She’s still and peaceful without the weight of our situation pressing in upon her. She looks nothing like the woman who was writhing and moaning underneath my mouth just an hour before.
I remember watching her sleep on the video monitors. It’s different to watch her in person—especially this new her—versus the computer feeds. She’s beautiful. She always has been, but now there’s a healthy glow about her. Running from me turned out to be good for her, from the looks of it.
Her running leads to memories of how she got away. Had she planned the whole thing? Did she fake-moan my name to draw me into the room? Did she hope she could get me to go to sleep, giving her a chance to escape? It was a brilliant plan if so, and effective. She’d fucked me so good she’d knocked me out for an hour or so.
And she almost did it again this morning. I’m going to have to restrain her after I fuck her from now on.
A restrained, willing Allie? My cock likes that idea.
Needing a shower, I find the rope I brought and tie her to the bedframe without waking her up. Nothing too tight, just a little something to keep her here while I take a shower.
I let the water pelt down on me, my mind replaying the last twelve hours. It drives me crazy that she won’t admit to this thing between us. That she won’t give in to this insane attraction. And despite what I got her to admit to already, I know she’ll keep denying it.
She wants to think of herself as a martyr…hell, she wants to be a martyr, but I’m not going to let her—not after how good everything felt. Her attitude won’t stop me. It won’t stop my mouth from tonguing her or my cock from drilling into her every day. I’m going to drive her as crazy as she’s driven me. She can hate me every time she comes—it won’t stop me. Maybe I’ll play with her a little bit, have some fun and deny her a few orgasms…
Shit.
What would she do if I never let her come…if I drive her to the edge and then deny her? Could I use her orgasms to control her? Could I use denial to play with her, to get her to tell me where the money is? What if I take her to the very edge of her sanity, then demand she tell me where she hid the money…
My mind runs through different scenarios—and their pros and cons—plus the risk of failure.
By the time I get out of the shower, I know what I’m going to do. And damn if it isn’t going to be fun.
Allie
I watch from the bed as Lucas moves around my room wearing nothing but a towel.
He. Is. Glorious. Smooth, tanned skin ripples with muscles that make me want to bite and taste. His dark hair is wet and would be rumpled if he hadn’t already run his fingers through it a few times.
His shower woke me up, and just as I was about to grab some clothes and run, I realized that he’d tied my wrist to the bed. The more I tried to get the rope off, the tighter it became. Now I have nothing to do but seethe as I watch him moving around my apartment emptying his bags. I try not to be curious about what he pulls out of them. At least this way I’ll know if he’s packed any duct tape, tarp, or lye.
“How long do you plan on being here?” I ask, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
He stops what he’s doing and looks at me as if the answer should be obvious. “If you’re not going to tell me where the money is, then it’s going to take a lot of time to pay me back. Not that I’m complaining.” He smirks. “So unless you want to tell me where it is…” His eyes rake over me, making me feel both dirty and hot at the same time. “I’ll be here a while.”
I maneuver myself into a sitting position so I can see him better. “Why would you want to stay and risk being caught?” I ask, grabbing at any excuse to talk him out of this. “There’s nothing for you here, Lucas.”
He looks up from his bag of stuff, his eyes hooded but focused on me. “I’m pretty sure there is, Allie, and I’m pretty sure you know that. It should be obvious by now, but I’ll show you in a little while if you need me to refresh your memory.”
Lust slams into me and through me, reigniting the parts of me that he just satisfied. God, he’s going to ruin me if he stays.
I need out of these restraints. I start digging into them again with my teeth, not bothering to hide what I’m doing. He glances up but doesn’t stop me. He just keeps on stalking all over my room as if it’s his, finding places to put his things. I still can’t get the restraints to loosen, which only make me angrier. Frustrated, my anger finally boils over.
“You’re not staying here,” I shout at him. Finally, he comes to stand over me, glaring at me with those hazel eyes, before leaning over and untying my hands.
“There,” he says, “you’re free.” He walks out of the room, leaving me gaping at him. I feel a million stars burst in my brain, anger creating a vortex in my head. I am going to have to kill him—there’s just no other way.
I race to the kitchen, reaching for my knife block, but it’s gone. I open the kitchen drawers, but there are no knives anywhere. Not even a freaking butter knife. I start opening all the cabinet doors.
He comes to stand in the doorway, spreading his arms across the width of the opening, one hand resting on each side. He’s pure sex appeal with those arms and shoulders spread out from side to side. His abs are a walking advertisement for ab porn. I want to refuse it to have any effect on me, but even in my enraged state, his sexiness dumbs me down.
Lucas tilts his head, studying me because I’m staring at him with what I’m sure looks like dazed wonder. He looks from me, then down at his abdomen, then back at me. Realizing what my crazy eyes are doing, I turn around until I remember what I came in here for, which was to kill him. I spin back around, catching him smiling before he wipes it away.
I fight the power of that smile. “Where are my knives?” I spit.
He raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. He still has a spot of toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, making him look all endearing and boyish.
He’s such an evil son of a bitch.
“Where?” I shout, opening more cabinets, looking for anything to use as a weapon of mass destruction.
I get still as I feel him walk up behind me. “Allie,” he whispers, and my overactive, hypersexed mind wants to hear tenderness in that whisper. But I know better, so I put up my walls, distancing myself from his nearness, emotionally if not physically.
He leans into me, his front to my back. I can feel the heat from his bare chest warm me through my thin shirt. His hands appear on both sides of me, holding on to the counter while he eases the outline of his cock into the cleft of my ass. “If you don’t want this, all you have to do is give me the money.”
His hands reach up and squeeze my breasts. “But if you don’t tell me, then I’m going to get my money out of this tight little body you worked so hard to keep from me. You can either fight this and live tied up for the foreseeable future, which to be honest, I really wouldn’t mind. Or you can accept this and let yourself have a little fun. Either way, the results will be the same.”
When I feel his hands on my breasts, I want to lean back against him like a cat needing to be scratched in a particular place. He senses my desire and moves in for the kill.
“See, Allie?” he whispers, his breath a sensuous lick of air against my ear. “See how easy it is to be a good girl for me?” I let out a moan at those wicked, wicked words.
He grabs my face and forces my head to turn, and then he’s kissing me from behind, somehow making the awkward position seem natural. I get lost in his kiss, completely lost. After just seconds, I’m turning around to press up against him, sliding my arms up around his neck. I can’t not hold him. I can’t not touch him. I have to take this moment for everything that I can get. I fantasized about him so much over these last nine months, I want just one moment of letting myself have him.
His hands still on my breasts, he pinche
s and tugs at my nipples. They point at him through my shirt, like impudent, greedy beggars, unashamedly reaching for the pull of his fingers. I gasp as we both look down at what he’s doing to me. I know I’m breathing heavy as I get indecently wet. He had me earlier today, and already my body wants him again.
Lucas catches my eye, smirking that smug smirk of his. “I don’t know why you fight this. You fucking want it, Allie,” he accuses. “Girls like you always want it.”
His crude, misogynistic words stun me, and before I realize it, I’m swing my hand so fast I hardly realize I’m doing it. But he knew I’d react this way. It’s why he said it. Unlike nine months ago, this time he’s ready for my hand.
“I told you last time not to ever do that again,” he says, smiling like he’d planned this whole scene. “I guess it’s time for another lesson.” Before I can take in his words, I’m upended and carried fireman-style to my bedroom. I screech at him, then start pinching him anywhere I can reach. Hitting him would be futile from this position, but pinching, that’s the way to do some damage.
“Ouch, dammit!” he says, slapping my ass. “Stop pinching me.”
I growl at him. Partly because I’m angry, but partly because that slap felt good. “So it’s okay to throw me around and spank me, but pinching you isn’t allowed? Please, Lucas, even you would cry foul,” I tell him after he puts me on the bed.
“Never said life was fair, babe.” Before I can react to that, he grabs my cheeks and gets right into my face, his own face livid. “Do not ever try to hit me like that again. Ever.”
He leaves me in there, a prisoner in my own bedroom.
I spend the remainder of the day walking a fine line between watching every move Lucas makes and staying as far away from him as possible. Turns out it’s pretty hard to do those two things at the same time. We behave like polite strangers, which is what we are in reality: strangers. I’m thankful that he doesn’t approach me the rest of the day, leaving me to my thoughts. He ties me up at night, but this time he sleeps on the couch.
Chapter 32
Allie
The next morning, Lucas makes me go over my schedule and then talk a little bit about the neighbors I interact with. He asks me about the gym where I work out, and I can’t help but point out that they all know Joshua. I have to work at hiding a grin when I see the aggravation he’s trying not to show. Mentioning Joshua ticks him off. I don’t know why it makes him so mad, especially considering he took my phone and sent Joshua a text—as me—that I was getting back together with my ex. Regardless, I like knowing that I can needle him about this. I have so little arsenal at my disposal, I’ll take what I can get.
Later in the day, I decide to do some baking as a way to pass the time, thankful that Lucas isn’t keeping me tied up or kept in one room. The thought of Lucas tying me up causes tiny bullets of heat to ricochet all through me. I’ve fantasized plenty of times about being tied up, but it’s something I’ve never explored. I never even shared the idea of it with past boyfriends.
I’ve fantasized about other dark things as well. I don’t understand where these desires come from, and I never expected for any of them to actually happen. Now here he is, saying and doing things that are like a huge, shining spotlight illuminating my fantasies for seemingly all to see. It’s confusing and embarrassing and so incredibly hot, I don’t know what to think or how to face it. And so I don’t.
I lose myself in the kitchen, making a few recipes I’ve always wanted to try. I don’t bake or try new recipes all that much, but it’s fun, and it keeps me and Lucas separated for most of the day.
Lucas
Dinner goes well, all things considered. I get her to talk to me again like we did at my house. It feels so right, and I don’t understand why she doesn’t see it like I do. Later on, we watch a movie. When it first started, she sat away from me, keeping herself separate. I drew her legs across mine so I could touch her, claim her. I want her to remember that she belongs to me, that she is mine.
As the movie ends and I start to get us up, she stops me with a question. “What were you stealing that day?” A question that comes out of left fucking field.
I look at her, not prepared for this at all, but I hesitate for only a second. “Cat videos.”
She rolls her eyes. “Who were those other two guys that were with you that day in the trailer? Do you work with them all the time?”
“Allie,” I warn her. “You know better than this.”
“Why won’t you tell me? You make me tell you things I don’t want to.”
I get her up and head toward the bedroom. “Because I’m the boss, Allie, or have you forgotten that already?” She huffs at me but doesn’t say anything else as she gets ready for bed. She’s awkward and hesitant once she’s finished, as if she’s not sure what to do.
“Aren’t you sleeping on the couch again?” she asks a little too hopefully for my liking.
“No. I’m sleeping here tonight,” I tell her, waiting to see if she’s going to defy me. “With you.”
Her shoulders droop, but she obeys. She’s wearing her little T-shirt and shorts combo that make me hard as a rock; but hell, everything she wears makes me hard. Once we’re in bed, she tries to turn away from me to sleep, but I reach out for her arm to keep her on her back.
“Nope,” I tell her, “not going to happen, princess.”
“I don’t want to,” she says. “I don’t want you touching me.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t matter, Allie. After what you did nine months ago, you should be glad I don’t just tie you up.” My cock jumps at the idea.
Her face becomes solemn as she looks at me, studying me. “Were you angry?” she asks. “How long were you there before you got out?”
Remembering that night makes me tighten up. I look at her, wondering why she’s asking, but I don’t see anything but curiosity in her eyes.
“You left the tablet,” I tell her. “I was able to get a message out before it died.” I left off the part about all of the smack talk I’ve had to listen to since then. “Did you plan on luring me up there, hoping that would happen? Hoping I’d fuck you so hard I’d go to sleep?”
Her eyes widen as she gasps. “No!” she tells me, reaching out to touch my hand. I don’t think she’s aware of what she’s doing. “No, not at all. That was just…something that happened.”
I look at her, watching her face for that look, the one that tells me she’s lying. This time, all I see is innocence. Honesty.
“Have you thought all this time that I’d planned that?” she asks.
I get up on an elbow and draw her closer to me. “I have. It’s part of why I was so determined to find you. I was going to fuck you right back, just like you’d fucked me.”
I lean down and give her a soft kiss. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Allie. It was brilliant, even if it did seal your destiny. Did you ever imagine that by doing that that I’d take you again? Make you my little toy?” I taunt her on purpose and get the exact reaction I was hoping for when her eyes widen and she tries to move away. I roll on top of her, keeping her right where I want her. “Way too late for that, princess. Way, way too late,” I murmur.
I kiss her, not caring that I’m taking what she’s not willing to give. Yet. I move my lips just so, guiding her, showing her what I want, until she becomes a willing partner, just like I knew she would.
When her body is pliant and languorous, I sit up a little, running my eyes down her T-shirt, staring at where it stops. It’s hiding all of the things I want to see. I glance up at her, holding her gaze. “Take it off,” I tell her. She sits up slowly but doesn’t do what I say. She smells so fucking good, I lean in a little bit, nostrils flaring at the scent of her.
“I’m not going to repeat myself. You either do it the first time, or you pay the price,” I growl, running my lips up and down her cheeks.
This is our game; this is how we play. I fucking love it. I give her a few seconds, and then my heart a
lmost stops as she lifts her shirt in a move of defiant grace.
She takes my breath away. She literally takes my breath away. “Damn, baby…” I whisper, awed into near speechlessness at her beauty. Her breasts are full and high, beautifully proportioned and round, bigger than I remembered. They spill out of my hands when I hold them. Her areoles are big and round, brown, but I know they’ll turn pink when I suck on them. The same pink that’s inside her pussy. Her nipples are thick and tall, proud little cherries that top her breasts like the candy on a sundae.
I can’t waste one more second not touching her, not feeling her body against mine. I grab her and put her under me, pressing her down with my chest and mouth. There are no soft little nibbles beforehand, no gentle teases with our lips. I am hungry, determined…feeling a need to consume her. “Are your nipples sensitive?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
I growl out a curse, my mouth diving to learn the answer. I suck in a breast, swirling around and around that tight nipple. She arches off the bed, clutching at my head. I do a slow suck before I let it pop out. I look up before I go for the other one. “I’ll take that as a yes,” I tell her, becoming harder at the knowledge and the feel of her nipples in my mouth. After servicing the second breast, I go back and forth between the two, biting and sucking until she’s writhing beneath me.
My middle finger goes down to feel her sweet pussy. She’s already soaking wet, my finger easily slipping inside her tight cunt. I rotate it, pressing in different places, looking for and finding all of her sweet spots. “You ready for me, baby?” I ask, knowing I’m taking her either way.
Watching her face, I glide into her, going easy until her body adjusts and accepts me. She’s so deliciously tight, it’s like a fist that’s too tight around my cock.