by Nikki Chase
“Now, where were we?” Seth plunges his rock-hard cock back inside, my mouth warming it up again.
There’s nothing I can to do stop him now, with my hands immobilized and my mouth stuffed full of cock. I can’t even scream. Even though my legs are free, they can’t reach Seth even if I try.
I’m completely under his control, at his mercy. He can use me however he wants, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nobody in this household would lift a finger to help me, not if they have to go against Seth to do that.
“How does it feel, having my cock jammed down your throat?” Seth asks, his eyes wild and primal, so different from how cool and controlled he usually is. “Do you like it?”
I nod, even as his cock stays inside my throat.
I should be terrified, but instead I’m unbelievably aroused. My pussy is throbbing, even though Seth has barely touched me. My muscles clench at nothing, and I want Seth’s cock in there, more than anything.
But if he wants to fuck my throat instead, then I’ll let him. He’s the one who calls the shots here, and obeying him drives me crazy with desire.
Suddenly, Seth pulls his cock out of my mouth. He reaches back and runs one long finger along my wet folds.
“You’re so wet, my angel,” he says as he fixes his penetrating gaze on me.
Without warning, he slaps my pussy, sending a shock through my system, making me gasp. After the initial shock subsides, heat spreads through my tingling pussy. I moan, not expecting the pleasure that comes with the pain.
“Remember that punishment I mentioned earlier? This is the time for it.” His voice is low and raspy. It’s wild with primal lust, yet still controlled.
He gets between my legs and continues to torture my pussy. He slaps my pussy until it stings, then he runs his long, graceful finger over the oversensitive skin, over and over and over again, until I’m panting and wiggling on the bed, my sweat drenching the sheets. I feel so close to coming, but this won’t send me over the edge. In fact, it’s just enough to keep me right on the brink.
“You like that, don’t you?” Seth watches me until I nod. He smirks and says, “Dirty girl. So much for punishment.”
Seth slaps my tits with his hand, the smacking sound filling my bedroom. I cry out in pain, but it only makes him hit harder and faster. I pull my hands down from over my head and place them over my torso, covering my tits.
Seth raises an eyebrow. “You think that’s going to stop me?” He slaps my pussy, making me scream in shock and jerk my whole body. He takes the opportunity to grab my wrists and force them back over my head like before.
“Fuck, you’re such a sexy little thing,” he says, looking at me like he’s ready to devour me whole.
The head of his cock pokes against my wet opening, and I moan in anticipation. All the torture he’s put me through has only made me want him more. I wiggle my hips, trying to get him in, but Seth remains still.
“You want it?”
I bite my lower lip and look up at him through half-lidded eyes. I nod.
“Say it.”
“I want it,” I say with a heavy sigh.
“What do you want?” Seth strikes my tits again, turning them red. “Say it clearly.”
“I want you inside me.”
“Say please.” His sharp gaze pierces through my defences, and I forget about how I’m supposed to fight this, or at least not beg for this to happen. I want Seth, and all I can focus on is the cock pushing right at my opening. It feels like I’d die if he stops and walks away now.
“Please, Seth. I want you inside me,” I hear myself say in a hoarse voice.
With a smirk on his face, Seth slides in easily, aided by my natural lubrication. He’s rock-hard from the throat-fucking, and I’m drenched from all the teasing.
He’s not gentle. There’s no build-up this time. He just plunges all the way inside me, and starts slamming in and out of me.
All I can do is spread my legs wide and take it, let him fuck me however he wants. I throw my head back as he zeroes in on my sweet spot, hitting me there again and again, driving my arousal up, sending me into overdrive. My breaths come in gasping hitches. My tits rock with the rhythm of Seth fucking me.
Just as I’m about to explode, Seth slaps my tits, grabs them roughly, and use them as his handles as he gets on his knees, pushing and pulling me against him. I cry out and squeeze my eyes shut, my body shuddering as my pussy muscles clench around Seth’s cock.
He plunges every inch of his big, hard cock inside me, fucking me hard and deep. I cling to the waves of my orgasm as he uses my body until he reaches his own climax. On his last hard slam, he pinches my nipples painfully. With a loud growl, he unleashes, coming deep inside my soaked pussy.
Seth keeps his hands possessively on me as I draw air into my compressed lungs. He strokes my tortured tits, my abdomen, and my hips before he pulls his cock out of me.
He lies down on the bed beside me as he continues to run his hands all over my body, even as his eyes remain shut. He pulls me tight against him until my back is resting right against his hard chest, both of us panting as his warm come drips out of my abused pussy.
“You’re all mine now.” He sniffs my hair and kisses the back of my neck.
I don’t know what it is, but the way he says it makes my hairs raise on end. Seth’s hunger for me thrills me, but I still can’t shake off the feeling of being trapped.
24
Alice
“Hey, Seth,” I say softly as he spoons me on my bed.
“Mmm?”
“Do you trust me?”
“What are you talking about?” He speaks more slowly than usual, his breathing regular and completely relaxed.
“I mean, the knife, and the tracker…” I let my voice trail off without finishing the sentence.
My heart pounds in my chest. Despite the happy hormones coursing through my system after my multiple orgasms, I can't breathe easy like Seth.
There's something I want from him, and I think this is the right time to ask, while he's in a good mood. Although my body wants to just pass out, the gears in my brain are turning and turning, trying to come up with the best way to make Seth say yes.
“Sure,” he says as he exhales, his breath warm and tingly on the back of my neck. “To an extent. I trust that you won't kill me, and I trust that you don't want to be killed.”
Damn. You can accuse Seth Wayne of being many things, but a tactful communicator isn't one of them.
“So you know I won't run away, right? You know I won't, like, report you to the cops or something?” I ask.
“It's not in your best interest to do that.”
“Right. I know that now. I know I should stay here for my own safety.” I don't think that’s my only solution, but I don't have to tell Seth that.
“Good. You're a smart girl,” he says lazily as he strokes the dip of my waist.
“Seth?”
“Yes, my angel?”
“If you don't think I’ll hurt you, report you, or run away from you, could I get my phone back?” I bite my lip and hold my breath, my heart going wild with anxiety. I perk up my ears, but all I hear is Seth's steady breaths.
Seth takes a deep breath. As he exhales, he says, “Why do you want your phone?”
I want to say, “Uh, because it's my phone?” But I resist the urge to respond with snark; I don't think that would help me get what I want.
So instead, I say, “I need to call my sister. We haven't talked in a while. She’ll get worried.”
After a tense pause, Seth says, “Okay, come to my office and I’ll give it back to you.”
“Thank you.”
To be honest, Emily and I don't communicate every single day. Now that she has a busy job and a little family, it's more like every week or so.
It wouldn't be strange for me to disappear for a few days, although I don’t think I can go much longer without her getting suspicious.
There's a chance Emily thinks I ju
st need some time away from her. I don't talk much about it, but maybe she senses my envy sometimes. Maybe, when we were on the phone, I didn't sound excited enough about her pregnancy. Maybe she's giving me space.
Who knows? She is the person who knows me best, after all. Even if I had my phone, I still might’ve gone into hiding for a few days after hearing the joyful news.
Either way, I need to get back in touch with her before she gets suspicious. I know now that Seth means well, so I’d rather not get him into trouble. I haven't decided if I should just blindly do as he says, but I don't want that to be decided for me if Emily finds out what's really happening.
Now that's taken care of, I can relax. I snuggle back into Seth's chest and he holds me tighter with his strong arms around my naked body. Our bodies are so close I can almost feel his heartbeat on my back.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence, “how did a guy like you end up in prison?”
Seth chuckles. “Why shouldn't a guy like me be in prison?”
He make a good point. I haven't even been here a month, and I've seen him take a woman captive against her will (me), knee a guy in the gut, and shoot that same guy. To be fair to Seth, though, the shooting was a self-defense thing.
To get back to the original question, a violent man like Seth wouldn't really be out of place in prison. But many times, getting sent to prison is not about the things you have done.
“Well… You have money,” I say. “People who have money don't go to prison.”
“Why is that?” He asks, amusement dancing in his voice.
“Well, for starters, rich people don't commit risky crimes. They're not strapped for money, they're not desperate, so they’re less willing to take risks. When they commit crimes, they're often less serious offenses, like DUIs, or drug possession.”
“Or shoplifting,” he says with a smile I can almost hear in his deep voice.
“Hey!”
“Yeah, I still remember the story, from that little speech you gave at the start of the class.”
“But that was so long ago. I can't believe you remember.”
“Six years ago,” he says.
“Wow. I really can't believe you remember that,” I say. “That's kind of my point, though. I grew up poor. I’ve seen that desperation firsthand. You can't blame me for shoplifting for my little sister, who was starving at home. If I had money when I was seventeen, and a sister who could eat whatever she wanted at home, I wouldn't have done it in the first place. There would’ve been no need.
“So, all things being the same, I would’ve had less incentive to do it. I wouldn't have taken that risk.
“Now, there would always be that one person who’d commit crimes for the hell of it, regardless of his finances, but let's just leave him out of it for now.” I realize I’m droning on and I’m starting to feel self-conscious about it. I look back at Seth, waiting for some kind of reaction.
“Okay,” Seth says. “So that guy who has money is just an asshole who goes around committing crimes for fun. Nice. Thank you. Good to know that's what you think about me,” he says sarcastically. After a couple awkward seconds, he laughs. “I’m not that easily offended. I’m an ex-con, remember?”
I laugh with relief. I don't know if I’ll ever learn to distinguish whether Seth is being serious or just delivering dry humor with a deadpan expression. But I’m glad he's interested enough to listen and make jokes about it.
“Okay, so, even if that one guy who has money gets arrested, he can hire a big, expensive team of attorneys, unlike most people. That means he's less likely to get sent to prison.”
“I see,” Seth says.
“So what was a guy like you doing in prison?” I repeat my original question.
“You’re not too far off the mark, actually. It was drug possession...kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“Yeah. My friend wanted to buy some coke, so we went to his dealer’s place. We got there and suddenly the cops were all over us. There were gunshots… Anyway, that's how they got me.”
“That's horrible. You barely did anything.” My heart aches for Seth, having committed no crime, yet paying for it anyway.
Sure, there were a thousand better things he could've done with all his money and free time, but he didn't commit a crime.
It's not fair. I actually committed a crime, and I never got arrested for it.
“It's okay. It was a long time ago,” he says nonchalantly.
“Your friend, he got arrested, too?”
“No. He died before they had a chance to arrest him,” Seth says, his voice tinged with sadness.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.”
“This brings us to the attorneys part, right?”
“Yeah,” I say softly.
I feel him hurting and I almost don't want him to continue replaying the worst moments of his life just to sate my curiosity. At the same time, after everything he's done to me, I think I’m entitled to some answers.
I mean, I know he's trying to protect me, but did he really need to be such an asshole about it? The fake job offer, the phone confiscation, the hours-long lock-up…
I get that he means well and I’m actually warming up to him—I wouldn’t have slept with him otherwise; I’ve never been into casual sex. But the way he just took away my freedom still grates me.
“Well, you’re right,” he says. “My parents did have the money to get me out of trouble, but they cared more about what people thought of them than about what was happening to me. I tried to explain to them what had really happened, but they wouldn’t even listen. They told me they didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.”
“That must’ve been rough.” I’m honestly taken aback. I thought rich people led easy lives with no problems. But despite his wealthy background, Seth has obviously led a tougher life than I have.
“Yeah, I have to admit that hurt more than the part where I actually got sent to prison. But it’s all good now. I served my two-year sentence, and now I’m in a good place,” he says.
“How’s your relationship with your parents now?”
“They’re dead,” he says curtly.
“Oh…” My voice trails off as I rack my brain for something to say. Should I say the usual sympathetic words, considering he might hate their guts still?
“I’m sorry,” I finally say.
“That’s okay.”
“Did you ever talk to them again?”
“After I got arrested?”
“Yeah.”
“We had one conversation, in which they told me to fuck off, basically. And then I never heard from them again, right up until the day I got a phone call from the cops, telling me they had died in a car accident.”
“Oh.”
“Before you say you’re sorry again, I really don’t care. They threw me away. Even if they were still alive today, I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with them. So it doesn’t really matter to me if they’re dead or alive.”
“Do you have any family besides them?” I try to change the subject, maybe get him to talk about a beloved brother, sister, or even close cousin. The mood is getting a little too heavy.
“No,” Seth says.
Damn, I curse quietly. Now I have to be the one to come up with something happier to talk about.
“I didn’t have a very happy childhood either, but I had my sister Emily and she made me feel less alone.”
Geez. Good job moving on to a lighter topic of conversation there.
“That’s nice. You’re close?” Seth asks.
“Yeah. We used to share an apartment. Now she lives in Seattle, and I don’t see her as much.”
Seth remains quiet.
I start to think about Emily, and how much I want to see her. I wonder if she’s already showing. I wonder if she has that pregnancy glow. I wonder if she’s having morning sickness and all the other pregnancy symptoms.
More than anything, I want to share these moments with her, but I do
n’t know if that’s possible, now that I’m Seth’s prisoner.
It’s a long shot, but I need to ask him.
“Seth, do you think...” I take a deep breath and pause. Do I really want to ask this question now, when he has just given me back my phone? Maybe I should wait a few days. But the question has already sunk itself into my brain and I can’t get it out now. So I ask, “Remember when you said I could go to Seattle?”
Seth stays quiet for a few seconds before saying yes.
“Did you ever mean to let me go at the time?”
“No.” His muscles grow tense; I can feel it in his arms that are wrapped around me. He doesn’t like where this discussion is going, but it’s too late to change course now. I’m going full steam ahead.
“Do you think you could let me go now? I won’t try to tell anyone or run away. I’ll come straight back here.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
I don’t have to turn around to know that he was speaking through gritted teeth.
“When are you going to let me do that?”
When he stays quiet, my suspicions rise. My heart starts to pound in my chest. Surely, he doesn’t mean to keep me locked up here forever, does he?
“Seth, you are going to let me go at some point, right?” I ask.
“Yeah. Like I told you. When it’s safe,” he answers tersely.
“When is it going to be safe?”
Seth says nothing.
“Can I at least ask my sister to visit here? I really miss her.”
“You’ll only put her in danger, and I know you don’t want that.” He sounds brusque, annoyed.
“So I can never see my sister again?” I wiggle out of his arms and turn around to look at him.
As I expected, Seth has a frown on his face. His eyebrows are taut, his lips a thin line. The muscles in his neck and jaw are strained as he opens his mouth. “That’s not what I said.”
“But you don’t know when it’s going to be safe, so it’s all the same, right?”