by Nikki Chase
He traps my gaze, ordering me to stay still with no words. He reaches up and slowly undoes my buttons, starting from the top one and moving down. He keeps his hands close to my body, grazing against my bare skin every once in a while. I shudder from his touch, knowing things are only going to get even more intense.
“Take it off,” Seth commands when my shirt hangs completely open.
I lean back and shrug it off.
“And the bra, too,” he says. “It’s only fair, since I’m already topless.”
I reach behind me and unhook my nude everyday bra. I wish I was wearing a nicer, sexier one, but I had no idea I was going to end up in bed with Seth today. In fact, when I woke up this morning, I would’ve laughed in the face of anyone who’d dare to suggest that Seth was going to see my bra.
I take it off and instinctively move my hands to cover myself, but Seth grabs my wrists before I can do that.
“Let me see you,” he says. It’s not a request, but a demand. He’s not going to take no for an answer.
I let him take a good look at me, despite how uncomfortable it makes me. It’s been years since I last let anyone new see me naked.
After I broke up with Fred, I haven’t had anyone else in my bed. And now, to have someone like Seth see all of me… I think I’m a pretty confident woman, but it’s just that, being as wealthy and good-looking as he is, Seth must have seen his share of beautiful women.
Yet, as I look at his face, there’s nothing but appreciation there. His gaze roams all over my bare chest.
Impatiently, he puts one hand on my back to pull me down against him, while his other hand plays with my tits. He grabs them, kneads them, and pulls on my nipples, which are already hard as diamonds. I part my lips to moan, and he captures me with his mouth.
His kiss steals my breath. I gasp for air every time we pull away from each other, yet I keep coming back for more, as if I need him more than I need to breathe.
His hands travel down my back and rest on my ass. He squeezes and lifts up his hips to grind his rock-hard bulge against me. He feels big. I would never admit this in polite company, but I’m dying to see what he’s packing.
“Take off your pants,” he says. “I want to see all of you.”
This time, there’s no hesitation. I want to feel more, and there’s no way to get there without shedding my clothes. So I quickly slip my dress pants and panties down my legs, grateful for the fact that he wouldn’t see my plain cotton underwear at all.
I dressed up for work, but now I find myself in the middle of the hottest date of my life.
They say going through dangerous, deadly situations create a special kind of bond. I have no idea if that’s true, but I’ve never wanted anybody else the way I want Seth in this moment.
I get back to my previous position, and Seth’s mouth and hands are immediately all over me again. He pulls my head down and bites my neck, devouring me with his lips, tongue, and teeth, marking me as his own. He runs his big, manly hands up and down my thighs and ass until my pussy is tingling, yearning to be touched.
I push my ass back, desperate to feel Seth’s fingers on my pussy. He takes his lips off my neck to chuckle, amused by how hot and bothered he’s making me.
“Do you want something, my angel?” Seth asks, his breath hot on my neck. His hands on my ass hover so close to where I want them to be, and I whimper with need.
“Yeah. Touch me.”
“I am touching you.” He’s going to make me say it.
“Touch my pussy,” I say breathlessly.
“Beg for it,” he says, his voice low and authoritative, making my muscles clench in anticipation.
“Please…” My voice trails off into a heavy sigh.
“Please what?”
“Please touch my pussy.”
“There’s a good girl.”
Seth plops his head back on his fluffy pillow and fixes his intense gaze on my face. This would normally make me self-conscious. I prefer to have the lights off or bury my face on the crook of the guy’s neck, but I know Seth would take his fingers away if I do that. Besides, with the big floor-to-ceiling window on an entire side of the wall letting the sunshine pour in, there’s nowhere to hide in this minimally decorated room.
Seth slowly runs a finger down my lower back and over the curve of my ass, light as a petal. My hairs raise on end. It’s like every single nerve ending on my body is completely alert, just waiting for Seth. His touch feels amazing; at the same time, I ache for more, to the point where this becomes torture.
Finally, his lone finger reaches my folds, already wet and dripping with desire. A random thought pops into my mind: I wonder if I’m staining his designer pants. But it quickly disappears when he rubs his finger against my lower lips.
He finds my clit, and it’s all I can do to hold onto him tight as I begin to lose control of my own body. I shudder and quake over Seth’s hard body as he continues to tease and play with my clit.
Without any warning, he pushes two fingers inside me, making me gasp in surprise and pleasure. He slides all the way inside smoothly, my muscles gripping his fingers tightly.
“You’re already wet, my angel,” he says. “Do you like this? Do you like me playing with your pussy?”
“Yeah…” My head is overwhelmed by the delicious sensations in my center, but I manage to moan out a response.
“Dirty girl.” He slides his fingers in and out of me, while maintaining steady pressure on my clit.
A part of me wants to protest, but I can’t care about anything other than what Seth is doing to my body. Besides, I can’t deny how dirty I’m being, when my body has betrayed me so completely.
Seth bites my neck, hard. The rhythm of his finger-fucking gets faster, more intense, pushing me up the peak of my arousal, until I finally hit the edge and tumble down.
A deep orgasm tears through my body, making me buck and shake as Seth continues to manipulate my body skillfully, drawing out my climax. When the waves of pleasure subside, I’m left breathless, collapsing onto Seth’s body, my tits squished against his hard chest.
Seth reaches down and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out. I look down between us and see his hand wrapped around the biggest, thickest cock I’ve ever seen. His fist shuttles up and down his impressive length. When I look back at his face, he’s wearing a big, cocky smirk. He knows he has a monster between his legs.
He lines up his cock with my opening, the spongy head poking against me. I moan in anticipation. He pushes me down and thrusts up at the same time, burying himself balls deep inside me in one smooth motion.
“Oh my god, Seth,” I say as he fills me up to the brim. I swear if he’s even just a fraction of an inch bigger, I’d burst.
“Ride me,” he orders.
Again, I sense that it’s not a request. Just like everyone else in the house, I have to follow his orders. That’s the only way he works. Besides, judging by the way my body is reacting to his demands, I’m liking it.
I slide myself up and down Seth’s shaft, making him grunt. We’re mating like animals, raw and primal, just slaves to our own lust. He grabs me by the neck and pushes me until I’m sitting upright on top of him. I grind myself against him, impaling myself on his cock while also rubbing my clit on his pubic bone at the same time.
His fingers around my neck restrict my air flow, but it makes everything feel more intense. It reminds me how much I’m at his mercy. Trusting he’s going to protect me and keep me safe, I let go.
Our movements become faster and harder, more and more frantic, until I feel him swell bigger and bigger, triggering another orgasm within me. My muscles clench around Seth’s cock, grabbing and massaging it, milking it for all it’s worth. His hand around my neck grips harder as his cock pumps up into me.
Finally, his whole body tenses and stills. He grinds himself against me one last time, making sure to shoot every last drop of his cum deep inside.
As Seth releases his hold on my neck, I fall down on top of him, our ho
t, sweaty bodies melding into one. He squeezes my ass cheek and strokes my hair with his other hand.
It feels so good. I feel safe, like I’m in a little quiet cocoon of comfort.
Slowly, I drift off into slumber in Seth’s king-sized bed, even as his cock remains buried inside me.
Seth
“Is this for her?” Alejandra strolls inside my office with a box in her raised hand. She places is on my desk with a smirk. “Interesting. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“Lovesick.” She grins mischievously.
Alejandra is like a sister to me, and she used to be the only person in the house who’d dare to talk to me like this. But now that Alice lives here too, there are two women under my roof who’d call me on my bullshit.
“It’s just a small gift. Nothing weird about it,” I say casually.
“I know you, Seth Wayne.” Alejandra turns around and walks toward the door. Before she leaves the office, she looks at me over her shoulder and says, “Just be careful. Falling in love is dangerous shit.”
Before I can protest, she pulls the door close.
I turn my attention to the box that Alejandra has placed on my desk. I reach out and slide it closer over the glass. It looks good, I guess. I don’t know much about gift-wrapping. It’s a classic white box with a black ribbon on it.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to this extent. Judging by Alejandra’s reaction, this gift is probably not a good idea.
We fell asleep yesterday, and Alice was gone when I woke up. So I thought about her, lying there alone on my bed, which suddenly seemed too big for just one person. I wanted to make everything up to her, and I thought about getting her something.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go online shopping right after sex. All those feel-good chemicals gave me a ridiculous idea and, like shitty friends on a drunken night out, pushed me to just do it.
When I was making the payment on the online store, there was a check box to get it gift-wrapped. In that moment, it seemed like a good idea, for some reason.
I don’t know why I can’t just tell her.
The guilt is obviously killing me, making me do things that are completely out of character.
When Alice asked me if I was ever going to let her go, I thought about telling her the truth. But the way she worded the question gave me a loophole. My answer was technically honest, but I managed to hide the real answer.
I will definitely let her go once it’s safe. The problem is, it’s never going to be safe enough for her to go back out there.
Maybe I can eventually trust her to always have bodyguards with her whenever she goes out—like Alejandra does—but she won’t get her freedom back.
She won’t get her old life back. Ever.
I tried to convince myself I did it for her own good. If she was going to be stuck here anyway, she might as well believe in the best-case scenario for as long as she can. There’s no use worrying.
But all I did was give her false hope.
Most distasteful of all? A part of me is actually happy about having an excuse for keeping Alice close to me.
It’s sick that I’d even think about her plight like that. I should know better, having seen first-hand how captivity destroys people’s souls.
I still remember my first brush with Walter’s victims.
But let’s start from the beginning, from the time I got to know Walter.
When we met in prison, he was the leader of one of the stronger groups. In there, you need to belong to survive, you need people standing behind you to fight those who hurt you. Otherwise, people would just walk all over you.
So Raphael and I, we started hanging out with Walter’s boys, who were running a little black market from inside their cells. We started out at the bottom of the hierarchy, doing the shit all the higher-ups hate. Eventually, we got trusted with bigger and bigger responsibilities, until eventually we were two of Walter’s most trusted men.
One day, when he got released, he gave us a piece of paper with his number on it. He said, “I know you two want to live like Boy Scouts when you get out, getting real jobs and being productive and shit. But I also know how hard it is to get any legit work out there with a criminal record. If you ever want to work for me, just give me a call.”
I got out before Raphael did, but only by a few months. It didn’t take long for us to realize how right Walter was. It was impossible to get a job.
Many job application forms required the disclosure of criminal history, so we were already ruled out of most interviews. Even if they didn’t find out about us being ex-cons early, they’d eventually conduct background checks, and then we’d never hear from them again.
So we were fucked. We had no money, no job, and were about to be homeless, having exceeded our welcome on various friends’ couches.
Guess who we decided to call? That’s right, our old friend Walter.
Raphael and I knew he was doing some real shady shit. But we chose to ignore it. We never talked about what it was that Walter was actually doing.
It was the only way we could think of to earn some living, and we didn’t want something as trivial as morals to get in the way of that.
We did know a few things, but not enough to implicate us in anything. We knew he was running an asparagus farm, and we knew many foreigners were living and working there.
We didn’t communicate with them, though, because they couldn’t speak English. And we didn’t want to anyway. We didn’t want trouble. We just wanted to work. The job was actually a good fit, and the pay was really good, better than any entry-level vacancy we could find.
All we had to do was patrol the perimeter of the premises, preventing anyone from getting in or out. That was it. No questions asked.
But everything changed one rainy night.
I was already feeling like shit, but the oppressive weather made me feel even worse. Fat drops of water covered the ground and seeped through my clothing. It was fucking cold.
I was walking my usual patrol route when I saw him. I didn’t actually see the workers much. Most of the time, there was a high concrete fence and bushes that separated us from them. I only saw them when they first arrived, usually by the truckful.
Maybe I should’ve suspected them for transporting people in the backs of trucks. But like I said, I didn’t care, if caring meant risking the only job I could get.
The man’s skin was dark from having spent much of his time in the sun. I remember taking note of the way it contrasted with his white hair.
He was older than the others I’d seen; maybe in his late forties. He was thin—extremely so. That was the first time I saw someone I’d actually describe as emaciated.
“Hey!” I yelled at him.
He jumped and turned around when he saw me, but I wasn’t just going to let him run away. I went after him and quickly wrestled him down until he was lying flat on the wet soil, rain pelting down on his skin. He was soaked through, and I was starting to get just as wet.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” I pulled his hands and held his wrists behind his back as he lay down facing the ground. “Are you lost”?
“No,” he said.
“I’ll take you back.”
Despite my attempts at ignoring everything that was going on around me, it was easy enough to figure out one thing: the people working in the farm were illegal immigrants. I thought Walter probably hired them because they were cheaper, paying them low wages and giving them food and accommodation.
Wouldn’t this guy be in danger if he were to get outside? How was he going to make it back home? Would his family be able to find him again?
“No!” He screamed and struggled weakly, rainwater getting into his open mouth.
“You need to go back,” I insisted.
“No! Please, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t work. I’m sick.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” No wonder he looked so frail. If he was really
sick, it would be best for him to stay inside and wait for the weekly doctor’s visit. Taking a stroll in the rain was probably not the best thing to do for a sick man.
“Let me go,” he said.
“The doctor should be coming on Thursday. It’s only two more days. You should just wait for him,” I said.
“No,” he said. “No doctor inside. I need doctor.”
I let him stand up after securing his wrists with a pair of shiny handcuffs. He was shivering in the rain. As he got up, I noticed one leg of his pants had been pushed up in the scuffle, and there was a black plastic thing around his ankle, the red light on it blinking.
“What the fuck is that?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Who made you wear it? What is it for?”
Before the man could answer, I heard the explosion of a gunshot and the thud of something blunt hitting the ground. Next thing I knew, the man had collapsed into a heap on the dirt, mud staining his tattered clothes.
I wince.
There’s just no fucking way I could remember that moment without feeling the weight of a thousand regrets crushing me.
I’m a lot better now but, on bad days, I still ask myself a lot of what-ifs.
What if I didn’t stop him—would he have made it out safely? What if I knew what the whole farm was about from Day One—would I have worked there anyway? What if there was some way for me to save the guy, some way for me to prevent a senseless death, and I didn’t do it?
These memories flow into my brain now, flooding me with shame and anguish. I was on the side of the guy who casually murdered a man like it was just another Tuesday.
Yesterday, Alice was completely naked in my bed, except for that ugly thing, that same kind of tracker around her ankle. I felt a pang of regret when I spotted it, but it was quickly replaced by the urgency of lust.
I hate to think she feels just as trapped as that guy, who was willing to risk his life to get out. Because Alice can never go outside again on her own, I think it’s only fair that I give her whatever I can to make her life easier. Unlike me, she didn’t ask to be involved in this.
So I’m going to give her a chance to regain a little bit of her freedom. I know it’s going to make my position more vulnerable than it already is. But what can I say? I have a soft spot for Alice.