She refused to accept the surge of disappointment that swept over her when he withdrew a moment later. Kat opened her mouth to demand he let her up, and he smeared the two fingers that had inside her over her lips and tongue, filling her mouth with her own essence. “That’s how I can say you’ll enjoy it, because you’ve already done so.”
As he withdrew his fingers, she tried to bite him, but barely grazed the side of his fingertip. She was certain it must have hurt, but there was no indication when he pulled away and matter-of-factly wiped his fingers on her bare stomach before he began to massage his cum into her skin. It was a violation, but also disturbingly erotic, and she squirmed as a new flood of moisture filled her pussy.
“As I was saying back at the house, the rules are simple. You may go wherever you wish on the island, but you’re to be available to me whenever I require you. It’s just us, so you can either wear nothing or the sinfully delightful selection of skimpy lingerie I’ve provided for you. I want to see your body at all times, and it’s always to be open to me whenever I require the use of it.”
She shook her head. “You can say all these things, but it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen, Mulgrew.”
He seemed entirely too cocky and arrogant when he got to his knees before standing up, and then bending down to offer her a hand that she disdained. With the remains of her dignity, she got to her feet with all the grace of the Queen and glared up at him with haughty disdain. “I’m not your possession or your damn dress-up doll. I don’t know what kind of relationship you had with women in the past, but you can’t treat people this way.”
“You aren’t just people, Kat.” He grinned at her. “You’re special.”
“Lucky me.” Kat dusted off her dress as best as she could, grimacing when it stuck to her stomach where he had come on her. “I’m going to take a shower now. Alone.”
“I’ll allow that.”
She marched away from him, back through the tangle of vegetation that had tried to block her path before, lifting her middle finger in the process to send an unspoken message. He just laughed, which made her even angrier. She briefly considered turning around and getting a running start so she could push him off the cliff, but thought better of it. It wasn’t mercy. No, it was simply the fear of going over the edge with him and colliding with the rocks below.
Once back in the house, she retrieved her purse and bag where they had fallen to the floor, still furious about him breaking her phone and stealing her birth control pills and passport. She slung the bags over her shoulder and stormed up the stairs, opening the first door she came to. A quick peek inside revealed it was the master bedroom, so she moved on down the hallway, picking the farthest one from him on the other side of the hall.
When she opened that door, the room had a impersonal, almost neglected air, and she figured it was a safe bet no one used it. When she crossed the threshold, she slammed the door behind her with a satisfying thud, but her satisfaction waned when she discovered there was no lock. She looked around, her gaze falling on the Queen Anne-style chair, and she dragged it over with a bit of effort, lodging it firmly under the knob.
She surveyed her work with satisfaction before stepping back and picking up the bags she had dropped. She tossed them on the bed carelessly before rummaging inside the one containing her clothing. She selected her least attractive pair of panties, a serviceable white bra, and another sundress. She had packed for island life, so her wardrobe was on the scant and skimpy side. These things would have to do. It probably didn’t matter anyway. She could wear a nun’s habit and still end up turning on that crazy man.
She carried her clothes into the bathroom and turned on the shower to adjust the water. When it was hot enough, she slipped off the dress and tossed it in the corner. It could be saved, and she would have to do so thanks to her limited wardrobe, but part of her never wanted to see the garment again. It was a shameful reminder of how her body had betrayed her.
She stepped into the shower, quivering with delight under the onslaught of hot water from multiple showerheads angled at her body. This was the kind of experience she had expected from her private island vacation, not being taken hostage by a madman and having his cum on her within half-an-hour of her arrival. She focused on that area, rubbing the loofah across her stomach until her skin felt raw, before finally turning off the water and stepping out.
She dried off quickly with a soft towel, wondering if he kept all the rooms stocked, or if he had assumed she would choose the one farthest from him. The idea that he was inside her head enough to perceive how she would think disturbed her. She hung her towel on the bar to dry and slid into her clothes before taking a deep breath to gather her strength.
It was tempting to hide in the room, but her stomach was rumbling for sustenance. Breakfast had been a long time ago and had consisted of a stale pastry from an airport coffee shop. The overpriced and undersized cinnamon roll had done little to satisfy her hunger. And she was ravenous now.
Refusing to analyze why that was, or allow herself to replay the memory of running through the jungle to escape him before he captured her and took her down like prey, she deliberately blanked her mind as she moved the chair from underneath the knob, opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway with a deep breath.
He wasn’t in sight, so she walked down the hallway in a state of anticipation, expecting him to jump out at any moment. She made it downstairs without any sign of him, finding her way to the kitchen after a couple of wrong turns. The house was ridiculously large if he lived here alone, and the kitchen was easily four times the size of the dorm room she had recently left after graduation.
She went to the refrigerator, a sleek stainless steel design, and tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. She tried again, and still got the same result even though she pulled harder. With a frown, she tried to open the freezer drawer beneath the refrigerator section, but it was stubbornly stuck as well.
“You’ll need a code for that, I’m afraid, and you aren’t authorized for that yet.”
She glared at him as she turned to face Declan. “You’re planning to starve me too?”
He chuckled as he reached for an apple from a fruit bowl on the counter. “No, of course not. I like your luscious curves just like they are. You’re slender, but you have nice hips and a great ass. I’d hate to see that wither away.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then why is the refrigerator locked?”
“That’s simple.” He lifted the apple in the air, tossing it toward her with a careless gesture.
She caught it reflexively, her stomach rumbling as the fruit hit her hand.
“I figured if you had unfettered access to the food, you’d make a point of avoiding me and attempting to barricade yourself in your room. This way, you’re forced to join me for meals like a civilized adult.”
She bit into the apple savagely, wishing it was his throat as her teeth carved their way through the peeling and the softer flesh inside. “You expect us to engage in what…family dinners?” She openly laughed. “You may control the food supply, and that might even mean I have to eat at the same table with you, but I don’t have to talk to you or engage with you.”
“Perhaps not. We’ll see how long you hold out.” He sounded unconcerned as he lifted an apple and bit into it too. “I’m expecting some rebellion and defiance, but you’ll eventually outgrow it.”
She rolled her eyes as she devoured the apple. “You make me sound like a recalcitrant child. It’s not some bratty display to prove a point. I’m not being defiant. I’m simply demanding you acknowledge my right to leave this horror show.”
“Never,” he said carelessly, but with an underlying note of seriousness that was daunting.
The bite of apple in her throat went down painfully, and she gasped and choked for a moment, coughing to clear her airway. Her eyes had watered from the coughing, and she wiped her cheeks before she spoke again. “Never? What do you mean by never?”
He at
e his apple as though unconcerned with anything else. “Just what I said. There’s no reason to ever leave this island, except for medical appointments when you get pregnant. Even then, we could just have a doctor come here. We have regular food deliveries, and there’s everything else we could need here.”
“Don’t you have a job or something? And I need to find one, since art school is nothing more than a pipe dream.” A pang shot through her as she uttered the words, accepting them for the first time. Not only was she being held by a crazy madman, but he’d also taken the dream of art school away from her, the one he had extended like a treat on a stick to lure her in.
“There’s no need for that either, Kat. I sold off my company years ago and have enough money to never have to work again. I do some things on the side, but nothing that requires a full commitment and all the hours I used to work. You pretty much have my undivided attention, and I expect the same from you.” He dropped the apple core in the trash before going to the sink to wash his hands.
She was shocked by his words and his revelation, but hungry enough to keep eating. She finished her apple a moment later and waited her turn to wash her hands. As he dispensed a paper towel, she turned on the water, turning her back to him. She’d just rinsed off the soap when she felt his fingers at the ties of her sundress. With a startled gasp, she crossed her arms over her chest to keep her dress from falling when he untied it.
Instead of untying it, the blade of his kitchen shears slipped underneath the spaghetti straps, cutting right through them, along with her bra strap. She tried to pull away, but he pinned her to the sink as he did the same with the other side, before peeling the clothes from her body. She covered her breasts with her hands as she registered her protest.
“I told you the rules on what to wear. You broke them, so now you don’t get to wear anything at all.” She tried to scramble away from him, but he held her firmly and seemingly without effort, her stomach pressing into the sink when the shears slipped down the side of her underpants, cutting through the plain cotton in seconds before he repeated the process on the other side. With a startled squeak, she left one arm covering her chest and brought the other downward, hand shielding her mound as much as possible while she pressed closer to the sink, trying to hide from him.
“That’s okay. I’m an ass man too, Kat.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands for emphasis as he parted them and pressed his cock against her inner area. The cloth from his jeans abraded the tender spot, but in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.
“In the interest of fairness, I’m also going to get rid of my clothes.” He released her with a chuckle and stepped back, hands going to his belt. “Feel free to run, sweet little Kat. I do enjoy the thrill of the chase.”
He was expecting her to run, so it was tempting to defy his expectations and just stand there, glaring coldly at him. Instead, she gave in to the self-protective impulse sweeping through her and raced out of the kitchen. She hesitated for a moment in the foyer, torn between going out the front door and up the stairs. Which would he find more unexpected? After a moment, she detoured to the right and outside, deciding it was the less likely option since she wasn’t wearing clothes.
Fortunately, she still had her sandals, so she was able to run over the rocky sand, heading directly for the boathouse she had seen earlier from the bluff. There had to be a way to get inside and get the boat out.
The problem with her destination was it was out in the open, with no vegetation to shield her. Her feet kicked up sand as she ran, but she was aware of him chasing behind her, his feet pounding through the loose sand as he closed the distance between them enough to reach out and grab her hair. That arrested her flight, and she drew up short at the sharp pain in her scalp. “Let go of me.”
“No.” His manner was rough as he pushed her to the sand, pressing her stomach into the smooth granules. She turned her head at the last moment, resting her cheek instead of her face against the ground. Tears burned her eyes, and she was weak enough to let them stream down her cheeks for a moment, knowing he couldn’t see them from his vantage point.
She whimpered her protest when he slipped her hair to the side and brought his mouth to the back of her neck. She expected him to bite her as he’d done earlier, but this time he pressed slow and careful kisses to the spot before moving downward, following the line of her spine with neat kisses precisely spaced down the curve of her vertebrae.
She couldn’t help but relax under the tender kisses, but she froze when he reached the small of her back and continued going. She shook her head in rejection as his lips brushed against her buttocks, his tongue flicking out to dip into the little hollow. She yelped and tried to jerk away from the strange sensation. He refused to allow her to, and his hands cupped her ass, parting her to him again as he lifted her upward, until she was on her knees and presented to him.
“Please.”
“Gladly.” He ran his tongue down the dark place, pausing to flick it over her taut rosette. “I’m looking forward to claiming this little hole. I bet you’re going to squeeze my dick like a vise. Has anyone ever fucked you here, Kat?”
She shook her head, unable to withhold the truth under the onslaught of strange sensations assaulting her. There was discomfort, but that was mainly emotional. Such a strange and taboo act, but he undertook it so casually, and she had to admit, with a great deal of finesse as he flicked his tongue inside her in a way that made her entire lower body jolt.
He withdrew his tongue to speak. “Good. I assume it’s too much to ask that your cunt is untried. I mean, you are on birth control pills.”
She stiffened as his tongue moved lower, across her premium and into her folds. “I don’t want you to do that.”
Cream flood his tongue as he flicked it over her clit before plunging inside her. “Liar,” he said, his words muffled by the fact that his mouth was pressed deeply into her pussy as he licked and sucked her.
She tried to wriggle away, hating how much she was enjoying his mouth devouring her slit, and she cried out with surprise when he suddenly bit her outside folds hard enough to make her scream, even as two of his fingers drove inside her slick heat, coaxing her toward the edge of release as he finger-fucked her before flicking his tongue back over her clit.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Kat? Want me to stick my dick in your tight little cunt and pound you into the sand?”
She hovered on the edge of release, but refused to acknowledge his question. Her body was screaming yes, but her brain was shouting a firm refusal noticeably louder.
He bent forward to bite her on the shoulder as his fingers curled inside her to play with her g-spot. “Beg me. Beg me to fuck you, and I will.”
She stiffened at the words and shook her head, whimpering as pleasure crested before waning when his fingers stopped moving inside her. “I’m not going to beg you for anything.”
He pressed once more against her g-spot, making her whimper as she almost came before his fingers withdrew. “You’ll come to me, and you’ll beg, Kat. By the time you surrender, you’ll be begging me to do everything I want to you.”
She sagged against the sand as he stood up, refusing to look at him. “I won’t. I’ll never ask you for anything, and I’ll certainly never plead with you to fuck me.”
He laughed, seeming completely unconcerned with her resistance. “You keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, I assume you came to look around the boathouse. Enjoy that experience, and keep in mind you can’t go anywhere without the key, which you’ll never get from me.” With that, he sauntered off as though the last few minutes had not taken place.
She rolled onto her back and watched him go, waiting until he was no longer in sight before she brought her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit a few times, hating how he had brought her to the edge, and how much she needed to come. Even more, she hated the erotic mental image of him driving inside her body, and most of all, she hated it was that image that sent her flying over the edge.
After catching her breath, Kat got up from the sand and brushed it off her naked body as well as possible, grimacing at the uncomfortable lodging of small granules in intimate places. That was something she could add to her list of items she had no interest in ever doing again: Having sex in the sand. Struggling to block out the last few minutes, to forget how she’d almost caved and begged him for a moment as she had hovered on the edge of release, she picked her way carefully over the vegetation in the sand as she made her way to the boathouse.
It was at the bottom of a steep incline, and she slid down it carefully, thankful for her sandals. At least he hadn’t taken those. As she reached the beach level, where the boathouse stood, she looked to the left and saw a rough set of stairs cut into the embankment. “Son of a…”
She trailed off with a sigh, appreciating the fact that at least her trip back up the embankment would be smoother—assuming she had to make a trip up. If there was a way to get out of here, she intended to do so, even if it meant grand theft auto. Or grand theft nautical? Whatever the crime, it couldn’t compare to his crime of luring her here under false pretenses and attempting to hold her captive, could it? Surely not, though she shared Declan’s lack of faith in the justice system.
She walked around the wooden structure for several minutes, peering in through the windows and trying the set of doors double doors at the back more than once. She didn’t approach the front, where water had collected and kept the boat afloat. Instead, she kept her exploration to the wooden platform sitting above the water. It was up on stilts, from what she could determine, so perhaps the boathouse wasn’t always filled with water.
If she could get up early enough in the morning to beat the incoming tide, maybe she could slip underneath the boathouse and into the boat that way. Of course, she’d still have to figure out how to turn it on, drive it, and get it out of the boathouse before the tide came in.
Sweet: A Dark Love Story Page 3