Deviant

by Natasha Knight

  “I’d scream if you did that. Someone would hear me then.”

  “Nah,” I said, chuckling, pulling my t-shirt over my head, not missing how her eyes raked over my chest, pausing to study each of the tattoos that marked me. “Hotel’s pretty empty, and our floor certainly is. Told the front desk clerk you’re loud when we fuck.”

  She had no comeback, and I had to laugh at how red her face turned.

  “Behave, Mia.”

  A shower would be good. A cold one. Stripping off my jeans, I climbed into the stall and switched on the water, which started out hot, but within moments, was lukewarm at best. She’d used up all the hot water. For a moment, I pictured myself punishing her for it, but I had a feeling Mia St. Rose would give me even better reasons to spank that ass. At least in the time I had her before taking her to her brother. She wasn’t mine to keep.

  Switching off the shower, I climbed out to find there was only one hand towel left. I smiled and walked out into the bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” she exclaimed, sitting up higher on the bed, the movement pushing the towel to expose one breast which she tried to cover with her elbow.

  She dragged her gaze away, or at least attempted to, but I marched up to her and took hold of one corner of the towel.

  “I need to dry off and you’ve used the one towel, as well as all the hot water. Lift up.”

  “No, fuck y…” she paused, obviously remembering our earlier conversation. “There was a hand towel. You can use that.”

  I simply shook my head and yanked on the towel, swiping it out from under her, her body jerking to the side with the swift movement. I looked at her as I wrapped it around my waist, my cock already hardening at the sight of her bound naked on the bed.

  She pulled her legs up to cover herself, sitting up higher on the bed, keeping her legs close together so as not to reveal more than she intended.

  I stepped closer and gripped my erection. Her eyes followed the movement, widening as they did.

  “You make me hard, Mia. Seeing you like this, naked and bound, makes me hard.”

  She only stared up at me, tightening up even more.

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  I shook my head. “No, I said I would probably hurt you. But I wouldn’t rape you. When I want to take you, you’ll be spreading your legs wide and begging me to fuck you.”

  “I won’t. You’re sick.”

  “You keep saying that, but I keep remembering who hid and watched me fuck a woman not once, not twice, but three times.” I sat on the bed and she scooted away as far as her bonds allowed — which wasn’t much. “I recall”—I ran my knuckles over her arm, watching the goose bumps rise along her skin—”your hand disappearing somewhere inside your panties while you watched.”

  Her breath came faster, the pulse at her neck rapid.

  “Just a look, Mia. It’s my turn.”

  She screamed when I yanked on her ankle, tugging her over so that she lay flat on her back. I clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes growing wider as she stared at me while making little muffled sounds against my hand.

  “Be still and be quiet. I just want to have a look, understand?”

  She shook her head, struggling, and I pushed on her mouth harder, pressing her head into the pillows, moving my hand up just a little to close her nostrils and block off her oxygen supply altogether. She really panicked then, and I clamped one knee over her thighs, watching her face as she fought, her eyes wild. Somehow, I always remained calm at this moment, just watching my victims.

  She wasn’t a victim though. I wasn’t going to kill her.

  “Still and quiet. Understand?”

  She nodded violently and I removed my hand. She gasped for breath, trying to pull her legs up. I stood, allowing her to.

  “I couldn’t breathe,” she said, turning her face into her arm.

  “I know.”

  She stopped at that, as if she were surprised. I guess she’d thought it was an accident.

  “Now, stretch yourself back out. I want to see you.”

  Her mind was working, trying to process. I suppose I could have helped her, but I didn’t want to. Instead, I waited, patiently watching until she stretched her legs out, laying flat on the bed.

  “Good girl.”

  She was trim, with a small piercing through her belly button. Her nipples hardened beneath my gaze and I could feel her eyes boring into me as I looked her over, pausing at her pussy before continuing down her legs, her thighs, returning my gaze to the dark patch of neatly trimmed hair. I preferred shaved bare. I’d have to remedy that.

  “Pull your knees up and spread them, feet flat on the bed.”

  “Please, Julien.”

  I looked at her, contempt and confusion at her knowing my name. “Don’t say my name.”

  She nodded, a tear sliding down the side of her face as she pulled her knees up.

  I sat down on the bed, taking her left leg wider. She kept her gaze averted. I took in her pretty little pussy, the pink lips that were slightly parted and already glistening.

  “I smell you, Mia. I smell your arousal.”

  She pressed her face into her arm, but not before I saw the tears collected in her eyes. I turned my attention back to her sex, reaching to touch that softest flesh where the curve of her buttock met her inner thigh. She gasped and closed her knees, her gaze snapping back to me.

  “You said you’d just look.”

  “Shh. Open.” I waited for her to do as I said, but I kept my fingers on her as I did, sliding them up to the hair, just brushing against the flesh covering her nub, causing her to gasp. “Open your legs.”

  She did, slowly, and with both hands, I pulled her lips apart, exposing her swollen clit, pink and glistening with moisture.

  “You have a pretty pussy,” I said, closing her knees and turning her to her side. “Roll over and get up on your knees.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to see.”

  She shook her head.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking about ever since I caught you spying? I’ve been thinking about what you’d look like on your hands and knees before me, your ass high in the air, just for me.”

  She whimpered, her scent stronger, her arousal growing. She could deny it all she wanted, but I could smell how turned on she was.

  “I want to see that ass of yours spread before me, Mia, see your little asshole, see if it’s as pretty as I imagined it.”

  “Please, don’t make me.”

  “I’m not making you. You want this. You want to show me your ass. You’re just as turned on as I am. I can smell it, I can see it. Now, show me. You can bury your face in the mattress if it makes it easier to pretend it’s not happening, but you will show me.”

  With a little more encouragement from me, she rolled over, climbing up onto her knees, her face buried in the blankets, her hips lifted high, her ass cheeks spreading to reveal everything to me.

  My cock throbbed and I dropped the towel, climbing up between her knees, pushing her legs wider.

  She tensed, and I rubbed her back with one hand while gripping my cock with the other.

  “Shh. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to see.” I rubbed my length, smearing the pre-cum into my palm and along my shaft, imagining it was her wetness, her cunt hugging my cock. She turned her head and I met her gaze while I slowly rubbed my cock, allowing her to watch, to see.

  “You have a pretty cunt, Mia, a pretty asshole, just like I imagined.” I rubbed my length a little faster, touching the tip of my cock to one buttock. She didn’t startle, instead, she remained still, watching, seeming enthralled.

  “I wonder how you taste, how that dripping pussy tastes, that tight little asshole.”

  Before she could process, I leaned down and slid my tongue over her pussy, the tip of it just finding her clit, causing her to gasp as I circled it, all the while rubbing my cock as I licked the length of her sex. She shuddered as I tasted tha
t glistening pink all the way up to her asshole, where I circled that tight ring. This time, her moan made me smile and I returned my attention to that swollen nub. She widened her stance and I closed my mouth around her clit, sucking hard, hearing her breath hitch, her sweet little moans. I straightened, closing one hand over her clit and rubbing hard, feeling like I was about to explode. Bringing my cock closer to her ass, the tip of it just touching, her breath came fast and hard as she cried out, my cock pulsating in my fist, streams of semen streaking her ass, her back, dripping down over her asshole, her cunt. I pumped the last of my seed onto her, closing my eyes as I shuddered, one hand soaked with her juices, the other with my own, and when I sat back, her eyes met mine for an instant before she turned her face into the mattress, hiding herself from me once more, hiding her tears and her shame from me.

  Chapter Ten

  Mia

  I lay flat on the bed, on my stomach, my wrists still bound over my head. Julien climbed from the bed and switched off the TV. I heard water running and when he returned, he sat back down and cleaned me with a warm washcloth. He didn’t speak — neither of us did — and his touch was gentle.

  When he was finished, he unlocked my wrists.

  “Lift up.”

  I did and he pulled the blankets out from under me. When our eyes met, I looked at him, trying to understand what had just happened, how I’d come like I had, how I’d been so thoroughly aroused by him, my captor, the man who would deliver me to Jason. The man who would have killed me if it hadn’t been for Jason. I wondered about that. It seemed so impossible.

  But there were no answers in his eyes, only more questions. The hardness that had been there all along had made space for something else, allowing for an almost imperceptible hint of vulnerability. Perhaps of confusion.

  “Lie down, Mia.”

  I did, and he pulled the blankets over me.

  “I’m not going to cuff you, but if you try anything, I will punish you. Understand?”

  “Would you have killed me if those men hadn’t come into my apartment when they did?” I asked as he stood. “When you figured out I might be worth something?”

  He rubbed the palm of his hand over his mouth, watching me. Then he reached to turn off the lamp by my side of the bed, but remained watching me from the dim light of the other lamp.

  “I don’t know if you want me to answer that.”

  Lowering my gaze, I shook my head. “No, I guess I don’t.”

  I already knew the answer.

  He walked over to the other side of the bed and when he climbed in, I scooted away, gripping my pillow hard.

  “Now, that’s not very nice after what we just shared,” he taunted, an arm wrapping across my belly and pulling me back toward him.

  “What are you doing? Let me go.”

  “I guess I’m a cuddler after all,” he said.

  “Let me go!”

  His grip tightened and he brought his mouth to my ear. “That’s no way to act after I licked your pussy and made you come.” He squeezed as if to make his point. “Was it like you imagined? Was it as good as when you watched?”

  “Fuck you, Julien. I hate you.”

  “You’ll pay for that tomorrow,” he said, lying back down but keeping his arm around me. “Get some sleep.”

  I closed my eyes, crying a little, trying to do it as quietly as I could. If he heard me, he didn’t comment. What I’d seen in his eyes after he’d cleaned me had been an unexpected glimpse into a side of him I imagined he didn’t show very often. I wondered if he knew I’d seen it actually, that vulnerability. He wasn’t a nice man. I didn’t fool myself on that account.

  He was a hit man. I had to remember that.

  I wondered how many women he’d killed, how many men. Would I someday ask? Did I want to know? Of that I wasn’t certain.

  The room was quiet, and if there were any cars passing, I couldn’t hear them. I’d planned to make my move that night, to try to get away from him, but with his arm around me, he’d know. He hadn’t nodded off yet; his body was still tense, and his breathing wasn’t that of a sleeping man.

  I tried to think, to weigh my options. As far as I could see it, I had two: either manage to escape him, or tell him about the million, see if he would help me if I paid him. It would be double what Jason was offering. Would he do it? Would he help me? Well, he was a mercenary. He would help himself and half a million was better than a quarter of a million. On that logic, the answer was yes. I knew Jason would hurt me, there was no doubt of that. He was consumed by hate and vengeance. I needed to do whatever I could to stay out of his grasp.

  I didn’t fight sleep when I started to drift as Julien relaxed behind me. I closed my eyes and let it come. The clock wasn’t on my side of the bed when I woke to a strange sound, my mind still fuzzy from sleep. It took me a minute to figure out where I was in the dark room, but when I felt movement beside me, I remembered. Turning slowly, I watched Julien from the slight light of the moon that slipped through the slit between the curtains. He had tossed the blankets off and was covered in sweat, his lips moving, mumbling words I couldn’t make out. He was speaking in a mix of Italian and English, and his brow was furrowed. He tossed, turning in my direction, and when he opened his eyes, I gasped. But he closed them again quickly, still asleep.

  I looked around for my clothes, for his clothes, and slowly climbed out of the bed. He didn’t notice, still tossing and turning, becoming more agitated by the minute. Part of me wanted to help him, to wake him out of this nightmare, but the logical part of me told me to run. I opened one of the drawers in the dresser, keeping one eye on him as I slid it out as quietly as possible, but it was empty.

  “No!”

  I jumped, clutching my chest, thinking I’d been caught. But he was still asleep, even as he cried out. Forcing myself to open the second drawer and ignore him, I found it, too, empty.

  “Leave him alone!”

  This time, there was violence in his words and I froze, unable to turn away from him.

  “Charlie! No!”

  I watched, hesitating. He kept thrashing about, calling out again, his voice angrier and angrier, and something made me go to him.

  “Julien.” I whispered.

  Mumbling in Italian, he called out that name again. Charlie.

  “Julien, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” When he wouldn’t, I touched my hand as lightly as I could to his arm, but as soon as I did, his eyes flew open, their blue depths bright, wild, shining in the dark of the room. His hand closed around my throat and he leapt from the bed, pushing me into the wall, the force of it knocking the cheap print that hung there to the floor, making the glass crack.

  “Wake up! It’s me. It’s Mia. Wake up, Julien!” My hands fisted around his forearm but it was impossible to pull him off as he raised me off my feet, cutting off my breath.

  “Julien!” I tried one last time, struggling, unable to breathe.

  He stilled, finally, staring at me, and I watched in terror as he slowly registered who I was, where we were. He let me down, his eyes still on me while I sucked in air, clutching my throat. He looked so strange. I couldn’t read what was in his eyes at all, but he kept them on me, staring at me as if really seeing me for the first time. He touched a hand to my hair, keeping me pinned to the wall all along, my breathing still uneven as my heart pounded.

  He didn’t say a word, merely watching me as he caressed my hair, his hand heavy as it ran along the side of my head, making me wonder if he wasn’t at least partially still asleep.

  “Julien?” Fear made a quaking whisper of my voice.

  He tilted my face up to his, closing the space between us until our chests touched. Confused emotion flashed in his eyes, and I watched them, watched him, but when he pressed his mouth over mine, I made a sound, unsure myself what was happening. My hands went to his chest and pushed, but they made no impact at all, and after a moment, I yielded to him, surrendering, my lips softening, his grip relaxing as he kissed
me, my mouth opening to his tongue, my body responding to his touch, his kiss. He moved his hand from my hair to cup one breast, fingernails scratching at my nipple, the sound of my cry swallowed up by his kiss. His cock pressed against my naked belly, the hard length making me want him, and I found myself reaching up to his shoulders, one hand wrapping around the back of his head, pulling him to me.

  At that, he turned us, breaking the kiss, leaving me gasping, wanting more. Laying me on the edge of the bed, he pushed my legs up and spread them wide, my knees bending on either side of me. One momentary glance at my pussy was the only instance his eyes left mine and when his thick cock penetrated my too tight passage, I cried out, the pain startling. But he only closed his mouth over mine again, kissing me, eyes open as he fucked me hard, with calculated thrusts that penetrated deep, stretching me to make me take him, my clit rubbing against his belly, the rough hair there, his cock thickening.

  My breath hitched and I couldn’t kiss him back, but realized he’d stopped kissing me. Our mouths touched, breath mixed, heat and the sound of fucking, of his cock slamming in and out of my wet pussy, the intimacy of a fucking so savage, so ferocious, arousing me to heights I’d never imagined possible, and when he throbbed inside me and pushed my arms over my head, his hands over mine, our fingers intertwined, I came. I came at the same time as he stilled, his eyes even bluer, if that were possible, as orgasm consumed him and he emptied inside me, sweat dripping on me, mixing with my own when he laid his weight on me, his mouth at my ear, his breathing heavy and hard.

  We lay like that for some time, neither of us speaking, until I felt him slide out of me, his cum slippery on my thighs as he stood, looking down at me, his eyes unreadable.

  He turned away then, opening one of the dresser drawers and pulling out my clothes. He tossed them onto the bed without looking at me. “Get dressed. We’re going.” His voice was hoarse and raspy. He gathered his own things and walked toward the bathroom.

  “Can I wash?” I asked.