Battlefield Love

by Skyler Andra

  He moved his hand with infuriating slowness until he came to the core of me, and moaning a little, I spread my legs a little farther, wanting him to touch me as deep as he could. At first he only teased me, running his hand along my slit, and then suddenly he was sinking two fingers into my warmth, making me gasp and rise up on my tiptoes a little.

  “Does that hurt?”

  “N-No!”

  “Tell me how it feels.”

  “Full! It feels good.”

  He laughed in my ear, and I bucked against him. I didn’t want to get away; if anything, I wanted to impale myself on him, let him penetrate me in any way he cared to. He was waking up something in me that I wasn’t sure I had ever really experienced before, but now that I was, I wanted to chase it down.

  “You feel so good wrapped around my fingers,” he said, “and you’re going to take another.”

  The angle made it hard to push his fingers as deeply, but yes, three fingers was much more than two, and it made me shiver to think that his cock was bigger yet.

  “Oh, Byron, that’s good.”

  “Good, Locke.”

  I had never thought about how much I liked my name in his mouth, the way he could make it sound like a threat and a promise and an endearment all at once.

  “Come on.” He tugged my hair gently, prying me off the wall, keeping a hold of me.

  With his other hand, he switched off the faucet. Hand gripped in my hair, he used it to lead me out of the shower. I thought he would just take me dripping to the bedroom, but of course Byron was far too tidy-minded for that. Instead, he made me hold still while he used a towel to dry me thoroughly from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I had never thought how incredible it might feel to be dried off, but there was a sensuality to the way he did it, seeing to every part of my body with a relentless kind of attention. By the time he was done, I was pink and more turned on than ever, and it wasn’t until then that he nodded with satisfaction.

  “Perfect,” he said softly, and then to my shock, he reached down and pressed a finger inside me again.

  I gasped with surprise, clinging to him hard, and he grinned.

  “Feels good too.” He pulled back just a little, and I whimpered as he spread the wetness he had found inside me over the nubbin of my clit. That little bit of moisture made me arch against him, keeping it from being too intense to bear, but I whined at his motion.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll get what you want. When you get to bed.”

  Rooted to the spot, I must have been a little slow at doing what he said because Byron turned me around and landed a light spank on my rear. I yelped more out of surprise than pain and made my way to the bedroom. By the bed, I paused, and he nodded.

  “On your hands and knees, please,” he ordered.

  Okay, I’d done both the ice-cold mistress thing and the whimpering fawning sub who can only say, “Yes, master.” I’d acted the part, and I thought I knew the appeal behind it and the mechanics of how it worked. At least, I’d done that on the phone for my job and I did a convincing enough job that men paid me a lot of money for the act.

  Now Byron was showing me that with a reasonable tone that he owned the world, a lot of what I knew was plain wrong. I didn’t have to call him “master” to know that he was in charge right now. I didn’t have to be wearing a collar or a corset to please him. All I had to do was exactly as he said, and he would take such good care of me.

  I crawled up on the bed without a second thought of how I might look my knees spread wide. Byron adjusted me again, stretching me wider on the mattress, drawing my chin up and arching back so my ass stood out more. I was facing the end of the bed, so when he stood in front of me and bent down, he could kiss me. He did so with a thoroughness that made me shiver, but there was a masterful element to it as well. He was kissing me precisely the way he wanted it, and it was good that I wanted it as well because it was all his call.

  “Have you ever done something like this before?” he asked, running his fingernails along my back.

  I had to try twice before I could answer him through the shivers. “Um. For work.”

  “For real, I meant.”

  “No.”

  “Do you like it?”

  I didn’t have to think twice before I nodded. “Yes I do. I like it with you.”

  “Well, you’re hardly going to do it with anyone else.”

  That question stuck in my head, or at least it did before he kissed me again, his hand resting on the curve of my buttock as casually as he might rest it on a bench or a wall.

  As he kissed me, he caressed me, running his hands over my thighs, my rear, intimately up to my opening and even to my asshole, which made me gasp.

  “I bet I could make you like it there,” he murmured in my ear, nibbling lightly on my earlobe. “I could turn you on so much that you would beg me to take you, and you wouldn’t much care where I put my cock.”

  I squirmed against him, my face flaming red even as I whimpered my agreement. His touch was driving me insane, and it was too easy to imagine myself begging for more, for anything as long as he would satisfy both of us. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that his cock had stayed hard throughout this, and I wondered what it would be like to have him in my mouth and taste him as well.

  “Tell me you want me,” he said.

  “I want you.”

  “Not sure I believe you.” To demonstrate, he pinched my rear just hard enough to make me whimper, and the small spot of pain disappeared into a greater heat.

  “I do! I want you. I want you so much, Byron. You have no idea.”

  “Hey, I thought you did phone sex. Wasn’t that what they were paying you for?”

  I groaned in frustration, when he only put a gentle pressure against my clit. He wouldn’t let me grind down against his hand, wouldn’t let me do anything but writhe against him just short of my own climax.

  “Give it to me,” he ordered.

  “I want you inside me,” I said finally. God, I was the queen of dirty talk, but when it came to Byron, apparently, it all went out of my head.

  “More.”

  “I want all of you, please, give me your cock,” I continued. “I want you to fuck me. I need you, just you, fucking me hard, please.”

  My words dissolved into a sea of pleas. He was touching me with a rhythm and a strength that was just short of what I needed to come, and if he kept it up, he was going to find me turning the tables a lot sooner than he thought. Just before he reached the point where I was ready to flip around and pounce on him, he pulled his hand away. I moaned at how empty him denying me felt for a moment, until he addressed me again.

  “You should probably do your trick with the condoms right now.”

  “Check the bowl on the nightstand,” I panted, and he chuckled when he found it right where I said.

  “I knew that would come in handy. Right size, too.” He opened the wrapped and tossed it on the floor.

  I glimpsed at the extra-large label printed on it. Oh good.

  Byron knelt up behind me. He pressed my shoulders down until I was on my elbows on the bed, and then he took a firm grip on my hips.

  “I want this to feel good for you,” he said. “Tell me if it doesn’t.”

  I started to say something snarky at his orders, but then he took a tighter grip on my hips and surged forward. I was already so wet that he entered me in one swift movement, filling me up. My eyes opened wide, and for a moment I just clung on to the sheets, whimpering a little as he thrust deep into me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Ye-Yes…”

  “Good.” There was something savage and satisfied about his answer.

  That was all he needed before he did exactly what he wanted, and he started to move. Despite the restrained desire in his voice, there was an immense amount of discipline in the way he moved. Dipping in and out slow, then fast and heavy, alternating between the too, I could tell he stretche
d this out, denying us both a release. When I tried to squirm back, get more, he landed a sharp smack on my hip.

  “Calm down,” he barked. “You’ll get what you need.”

  But I want more than that, I could have said. At this point, I was giving up trying to figure out whether I was being affected by the powers of Cupid or whether this was just me making up for a very long dry spell…Rane excluded. Right now, all I cared about was making Byron give me what I so desperately needed.

  Byron moved with an infuriating slowness that made me want to cry, and if I was being fair to him, that was probably for the best. He was large enough that I needed the time to get used to him, to open up and to really let him start to slide smoothly with my body. Soon enough, we were slipping together like water, and he picked up the speed.

  When I started to slide out of position or to let him push me down to the bed, he made an exasperated noise and hauled me back in place. He might have lacked Rane’s bulk, but he managed to manhandle me just fine. I felt oddly delicate in his hands, and it sent me into a strange daze, a mixture of passivity and passion. I was going to let Byron do whatever it was he wanted with me, and that was fine with me. It was going to be good. I trusted him, I needed him, and he’d give me precisely what I needed.

  He tilted his hips slightly, and that shift changed everything. I went from a pleased daze to a desperate squall. It felt so good when he started fucking me so hard. I had no idea how long I could take such an intense amount of pleasure. Either I was going to come or I was going to have to kick him away because it was just too much. And it was too much, I couldn’t take it, and I couldn’t bear it much longer. My entire body felt like a spring that had been wound too tight. Any second now it was going to release.

  Then somehow, almost unbelievably, instead of snapping, I made it over the peak and came. The pulses of pleasure drove through me like bolts of lightning, and I buried my face in the sheets. I didn’t know why I had to stifle my cries, but I did, because otherwise, I would be shouting down the whole damn place.

  I heard Byron stutter a little, saying my name just once, and then his body stiffened, telling me he pouring into me. I could feel it almost as if he weren’t wearing a condom, the pulses of his body telling me how very much he needed to spill inside me.

  For a long moment, we were only still, me half-collapsed on the bed, Byron still above me. When he pulled out, he did it with a grace and care that I appreciated, moving slowly enough that I didn’t make more than a murmur of protest.

  “All right?” he asked.

  “Mm. Yes. Little bit sore, but damn. Not complaining.”

  “Good. Go get us some water.”

  I turned my head to look up at him, giving him the finger. “Get it yourself. My obedient act ended when I came.”

  Byron laughed. “Not when I came.”

  “Nope.” I stuck to my guns. “You never told me we were doing that. Thus. Get your own water. And get one for me while you’re at it.”

  I figured Byron was going to ignore me and let me get my own water. Instead, he kissed my forehead with a gentleness I wasn’t sure that I deserved, brushing his lips softly over my warmed skin. A few moments later, he ran a chilly bottle of water over my bare back, making me groan with pleasure.

  It wasn’t until later, after he was sleeping, when dread curled in my stomach. The sex had prevented us discussing what in the world we were going to do about his escape plan.

  Chapter 22

  When I woke up the next day, Byron was gone. At first I thought he was only lurking in the front room, but then I realized that I was in the apartment by myself. He was gone as if he had never been, and I felt a kind of panic rise up in me.

  The really irritating and embarrassing part of all of this was that I wasn’t able to get what we had done the night before out of my head. I could still feel his hands all over me like some kind of ghostly heat, and irritably I took a cold shower to no avail.

  I knew that I was worrying myself sick, but given the fact that I was being held captive by some sort of sinister organization, I was okay with that. I told myself over and over again that they wouldn’t hurt Byron if they knew they could still use him against me. That was a cold comfort at best, but it would have to do.

  It must have been nearly noon before two guards showed up to guide me out of the room, and there must have been something in my eyes that made them both pause in the door.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” I growled.

  Like mutes, they only shook their heads and indicated that I should follow them. To my surprise, I could see just the faintest indication of cords coming from their chest, red for one, blue for another.

  What the hell? I’d never seen different colors before.

  When I looked more closely, however, they were gone. That was a first, however. I had never been able to catch even a glimpse of those cords before without sinking into that trance. I almost wondered if I could reach out and touch them, but for the moment, I decided to keep my hands to myself. There was no reason to tip my hand before I had to.

  They led me to the same room as yesterday, and this time, the only man there was Dartmoor. There was a kind of nervous tension to him that I hadn’t noticed before, something that made me think of a caged animal that had no way of getting out. Instead of making me feel smug, however, it only made me feel nervous. It wasn’t like he was a caged animal I were looking at the zoo. It was more as if I was trapped in there with him, and I had no idea whether he was going to run, shirk away, or charge at me.

  He ignored me at first, and that was fine by me. Maybe some people couldn’t take the silent treatment, but I had gone through middle school and high school as something of a pariah. If there’s something that nervous lonely kids know, it’s that quiet is better than sound.

  Dartmoor glared at me when I didn’t say anything. “There is something thuggish about you, you know, Miss Casey. Something that reminds me of the women I have seen behind bars, cunning like animals but with a certain human light missing from them.”

  I could have pointed out that where I came from, Tasering helpless people made you closer to an animal than not. However, it wasn’t as if he would agree with me. I stayed silent, though I’d admit that maybe there was a tiny part of me that was amused to be called thuggish. People who were in honors classes and then turned to phone sex work did not often get to be called a word like that.

  A man poked his head into the room, and there was a harassed look on his face. “Sir, it seems as if Williamsly and Bennet aren’t responding to our messages. They may have left the compound altogether.”

  Dartmoor cursed. “Cowards. They were ready and willing to do what needed to be done up until the time they had to do it. Then they lost their stomachs for it.”

  I realized that the thing that they must have lost their stomachs for was hurting me. That was encouraging in a way, though if they had lost their taste for it, maybe they could have done something more meaningful than simply taking off in the desert in their sleek black cars. Something like maybe taking me with them.

  The worst part was that I felt a kind of gratitude for them, a gratitude they didn’t deserve. Neither did Dr. Victors, who came in a few minutes later. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and there was something kind of sick in her face, but I noticed that she had brought with her a full medical cart, stocked with all sorts of first aid goodies and even a set of defibrillators in case, I realized, my heart stopped working.

  “So glad you showed up to help out,” I muttered at her.

  “I’m just doing my job,” she murmured, and I bared my teeth at her like the aniByron that Dartmoor assumed I was.

  “Heard that somewhere before,” I said.

  “Shut up,” Dartmoor said, pacing back and forth.

  Already he was on the phone with someone, looking by turns dejected and infuriated. Something about the call told me he was talking to the guys he answered to. At least, I couldn’t imagine a man like Dartmoor be
ing that deferential to someone who didn’t pay his bills. He grew more and more curt as he spoke, and more than once, I caught him glaring at me. A maddened fire flickered in his eyes. That was what he looked like when he thought no one was looking. When he turned back to me, however, there was a positively jolly smile on his face.

  “Well, it looks like we’re going to get started today, Miss Casey,” he said, voice colder than a butcher’s freezer. “There’s only so much room for doubt, and I am not allowing it. Not today. Not when you are here, in all of your glory.”

  My glory was sloppily dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I hadn’t even had enough time to put on shoes, but maybe that was fine, because I might not have been able to keep them, not when Dartmoor looked like that kind of psycho.

  Next to me, Dr. Victors flinched. “Just give him what he wants,” she murmured to me. “He’s not going to stop until he gets it.”

  I supposed I could have said something brave about not giving in to men like that, but the truth was that I was a wimp deep down. I had already been hit with a Taser once, and the last thing I wanted was to get hit with it again.

  However, I had also dealt with bullies before, and one of the first things that you learn is that it usually has very little to do with anything you are doing. If they can do a thing, they will, and if there is no reason for them to stop… then they’re not going to.

  “Fuck yourself,” I said quietly, and she flinched, moving away from me.

  For some reason, she looked as if she might throw up at any minute and that filled me with a sickening dread at what Dartmoor had planned this time for me.

  Finally, he shrugged. Whatever had been stopping him earlier, it wasn’t stopping him now. Yesterday, he hadn’t been particularly eager to hurt me. At least then there was a reasonable chance that I might come along and play nice willingly. Now there was an eagerness in his face that made me extremely nervous.