by K. Webster
But I’m his prisoner, not his lover.
So despite his body being hot, it’s his eyes that are cold. Coffee-colored eyes are narrowed at me and his chiseled jaw is moving in a furious manner, reminding me of my dad when he gets angry.
“Time for breakfast,” he grunts and storms toward me. He’s carrying a plate and has a water bottle tucked under his arm. I’m upset and scared, but all I can think about is downing that water.
He sits beside me and I squirm away from him. My bindings don’t allow for much wiggle room so the heat of his body envelops me.
“Why are you doing this? Is it sex? You want me for sex?” I demand with tears in my eyes.
He sets the plate down on the bedside table and opens the water bottle. I expect him to unscrew the cap, which he does, and give me a swallow, which he doesn’t. Instead, he brings it to his full lips and takes a small sip.
“Mmm, cold.”
I sniffle and choke back a sob. He probably wants me to cry and beg. Well, he doesn’t deserve that.
“Want a drink, Baylee?”
With a frustrated sigh, I bite my chapped lip and nod. “Please.”
He flashes me a pleased grin that roils my stomach. “Good girl.”
I’m angry and want to swat the bottle out of his hands, but I’m not stupid. I need to be somewhat compliant if I have any hope of leaving this place. He shoves some pillows behind me to prop me up which makes the blanket slip down to my stomach baring my breasts to him. The man who’s always hidden his desire for me, blatantly eyes my breasts before sliding his eyes to mine.
Hunger.
I’m not the only one.
The flash of unbridled lust in his eyes tells me that he has plans for me—plans he’s probably wanted to execute for quite some time.
“Drink.”
I open my mouth and graciously accept the cold liquid. A tiny moan escapes me as I suck down the water with greed.
“That’s enough, Baylee. You’ll throw up if you drink too much. Why don’t you have a try at eating something?” His saccharine tone sickens me and I glare at him.
“I’m thirsty.”
“And you’ll get more. You have to slow down though.”
With an unconvinced nod, I jerk my gaze over to the plate on the table. A few scrambled eggs, a couple of sliced strawberries, and an unbuttered piece of toast.
“Where’s the bacon?” I pout.
He chuckles and I cringe. I hate the sound. Hate his laugh. “Oh, baby, you’re not getting bacon for a few days. One step at a time here.”
“You act like you’ve done this before.” My haughty tone wipes the smile off his face. Good.
“Several times, actually. But never have I enjoyed it so much.” He winks and I frown.
Several times? What happened to the rest of the girls?
“Can you untie me?”
His lips draw up into a wolfish grin that frightens me down to the fabric of my being. “Baylee, I would love to untie you. And after training, as long as you’re a good girl, not only will I untie you, but I’ll let you shower as well. Would you like that?”
The deception in his words is thick.
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugs and holds a piece of toast to my lips. “Not like you really have a choice though. If I were you, I’d take a chance and see what happens. Comply and you will be rewarded—that is my promise to you.”
I take a bite and chew the dry toast. I’d prefer to suck down that entire bottle of water but I’m trying to behave.
“Good girl.”
My belly aches from the food and I squirm in the bed. He’s gone from the room and left me here. I wonder if he’ll come back and make good on his promise. But with his return will be the training he’s referring to. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
Dishes clang together in the kitchen as he cleans up and I grow annoyed. The dishes can wait. I wish he’d come back, do what he plans on doing, and then let me shower.
What will he do?
The most obvious conclusion would be that he wants to have sex with me. Audrey told me that it hurts the first time but not too bad. Surely I can handle him inside of me. I was prepared to let Brandon make love to me. This is something I can do—something I have to do.
“You ready?” His deep voice from the doorway jerks my attention to him. He stands there holding a large bowl of water with a rag hanging over the side.
I nod and attempt not to shrink away from him when he sits beside me. The bowl gets placed on the bedside table and I strain to watch his every move.
“Are you going to hurt me?” The wobble in my voice gives away my fear and I hate myself for it. “Please don’t hurt me.”
His smile is gentle, comforting even. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you today.”
A lump of fear forms in my throat and I desperately try to swallow it down. I’m not going to hurt you today. But tomorrow? Or the next? My heart begins galloping at his words.
“Please tell me why you took me, Gabe.”
He frowns. “I’ll tell you what the plan is. How about that? Will that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Yes.”
“I will. Right after training and your shower. I promise.”
He soaks the rag in the water and then wrings it out before bringing it over to my dirty body. The rag is warm and I gasp when he begins to sponge bathe me. His movement is reverent, almost fatherly in nature, and bile rises in my throat.
I don’t want him to touch me.
Or clean me.
Or even look at me.
He takes his time, washing my breasts first, and then cleans my face, neck, armpits, and stomach. As he gets lower, I attempt to drag my spread legs back together but they’re immovable because of the rope.
“I have to wash that bastard from your sweet pussy. This wasn’t his to take,” he murmurs, an angry glint in his eye.
He pushes the blanket down to my knees and stares between my legs. Then, he draws the rag down and cleans me. All over the outer lips of my sex, he scrubs gently but in a determined fashion. It’s not sexual and it doesn’t turn me on. In fact, it repulses me. I want him gone from there. The rag is returned to the bowl and he squeezes the water from it once again. This time, when he goes back between my legs, I gasp in horror. He’s cleaning my butt—the hole to be exact.
“Stop,” I beg.
But he doesn’t stop. He carefully cleanses my body one inch at a time. Thankfully, he returns the rag back to the water and disappears with the bowl. A chill from the air skitters over my flesh and goosebumps erupt all over my skin. When his footsteps thud back toward me, I tense up.
“Ready?” he questions from the doorway.
Tears well in my eyes and he blurs before me. I quickly blink them away so I can see him. I don’t want him out of my sight.
“Please don’t…”
He frowns. “Your pleas will fall on deaf ears. I can gag you, though, if you’d prefer. Up to you. But keep begging and I’ll become annoyed. You don’t want me annoyed, Baylee. You want to please me. Trust me.”
I start to cry but I don’t dare utter a word. He seems satisfied and drags the blanket the rest of the way from me, depositing it on the floor behind him.
“You’re so perfect,” he coos and runs a finger up my shin toward my thigh. “You have much to learn, so we’re going to need to get started. Two weeks will come and go pretty quickly.”
Two weeks?
And then what?
His finger trails lazily up my inner thigh and I cringe when he drags it along my sex. I can’t do this.
“Most men don’t like hair there. Soon, I’ll reward you with a razor and you can clean this up.” He tugs at the hair on my pubic bone and I cry out. “Shhh, remember what I said about the begging. I could gag you with the rag I cleaned your ass with. Would you like that?”
I shake my head in vehemence. “No.” Please don’t is on the tip of my tongue but he’d probably gag me for th
at.
“Okay then. I can see this will go well.” His eyes become predatory as he drags his finger down my slit and pushes between my lips, connecting with my clit. He doesn’t move, simply stares at me. “Did Brandon know how to touch you, Baylee? Did he ever bring you to orgasm?”
“N-No.”
My chest feels as if it will rip apart and free my exploding heart at any moment.
“That’s because he’s a boy. You’ve never had a man with my experience draw pleasure from you.”
A wobble from my bottom lip is my only sign of weakness. Of course he sees it and grins.
“See, I could get you off with just this finger,” he tells me in a smug tone. “All I’d have to do is press and massage and circle right here.” As he says here, I grow dizzy when stars dance around me. Despite my feeling afraid and betrayed, my body reacts. It embarrasses me and a shameful crimson heats my skin.
“Your skin is telling me you like this and I’m so glad. I want to prove to you my experience over his. That night, when I came for you, I could see the bored look in your eyes. I can assure you, when I’m between your legs, you’ll only be thinking about me.”
I swallow and close my eyes. Maybe I can pretend I’m someplace else. For a moment pretend it’s Brandon instead, so I can endure the punishment he’s about to unleash. The bed squeaks and I ignore it, clenching my eyes tighter.
I can do this.
Think of spiky brown hair.
Think of the sweet smile of my high school boyfriend.
Think about anything other than the—
“Oh!” I screech and yank my eyes open against my will.
Gabe raises a smug brow at me as his thick, wide tongue plows between my lips, dragging pleasure in its wake. His thumbs dig brutally into my thighs and I yelp. I don’t want to watch him but I’m snared in his stare.
So hungry.
So primal.
So evil.
One hand leaves my thigh and he pushes a finger into my body. It’s uncomfortable but not unpleasant. And with the way he’s licking and sucking in all the spots Brandon couldn’t find just days ago, I’m starting to lose my hold on sanity. It’s hard to be upset and afraid when my body is being overwhelmed with such unimaginable sensations.
Concentrate, Baylee! He’s a monster!
My breath stills in my throat as he curves his finger inside of me. He’s probing parts of me that haven’t been ever touched. It frightens me but my stupid body is rocking against him—betraying me. Again.
His teeth press down on my clit and I shriek in fear. But he doesn’t hurt me. It’s like he knows exactly what feels good and soon my fight begins to weaken. My thoughts are jumbled. All I can focus on is the way he tastes me. The slurping, ravenous noises that come from him. How his hot breath tickles me. And the way his fingers own the inside of me.
My thoughts dull as sensations take over. I’m no longer able to grasp on to the rational part of my head because all I can think about is the way my body has come alive.
A strange feeling takes hold inside me, an awareness that is as basic and simplistic as male and female, night and day, predator and prey. Yes, I am terrified. But there is also this undercurrent of something else. Something larger. Lust? Maybe. I have fantasized about this guy, dreamed about him touching me. I have hungered for his eyes on my naked skin. Imagined his mouth on my breasts. And now, here he is, touching me. And it is nothing like I had imagined.
It’s too much.
Yet, it’s not enough.
There’s more, I can feel it.
Another nibble on my clit has me shrieking out in pleasure. This seems to excite him because he growls against my wet body and I shudder in response. My body stretches as he inserts another finger. So full with him. So overwhelmed by him. Even his manly scent has overpowered the earlier bacon aroma and taken root in my lungs.
I’m completely at his mercy.
Cast under his evil spell.
His spit and juices from my body are running down the clean crack of my butt and I want to be embarrassed. I want to squirm away from him. But, right now, I can’t. My body is selfish for this moment after so many days of horror. The pleasure is as addicting as the water I greedily consumed.
I need this.
I need this to survive.
“Oh God,” I mewl. “Oh God.”
And then it happens.
One more hard suck of my clit seems to rip me open. An unearthly moan pours from me as my nerve endings come alive. I can feel them all at once, everywhere, and they seize me. Each and every one of them takes hold of me, clenching in ecstasy. My head throbs in unison with my wild heart and I nearly black out from desire.
It’s overwhelming.
But for some sick reason, my body responds as if it needs this pleasure for nourishment, despite the horrified and disgusted thoughts running through my mind.
As my body shudders, it starts to leave as quickly as it arrived. His tongue still works me but he’s slowed as if he knows this orgasm of mine is fleeting and it won’t last forever. Tears stream down from eyes as I come to a nauseating realization.
He’s going to give me more of these.
And I want them.
I want them so bad.
What the hell kind of person does that make me?
HE SITS UP on his knees between my legs and smirks. “I knew you’d love that.” With his fingers still inside of me, I feel as though I’m his accomplice in an act against myself. For a few brief moments, I joined his side and allowed him to carry out an agenda against me.
“I hated it,” I lie. It’s not truth either though. I’m conflicted and confused. A war rages inside of me between mind and body.
His face glistens from juices that came from my body and embarrassment once again washes over me.
“Don’t lie, sweetheart. I’ve known you for a long time and can tell when you’re doing it. I have plenty more to show you. Some of which you will love—other stuff you won’t admit you love. But as long as you’re with me, you’ll feel only pleasure.”
“You’re a rapist pig!” I snap. I’m furious with myself for succumbing so easily to him.
He glares at me before launching himself on top of me. I scream and squirm but he crushes me with his weight. His mouth hovers over mine. My scent is all over him and I want to throw up.
“I haven’t raped you,” he snarls. “When I do take you, you’ll beg for it. You’ll want my thick cock inside of your tight cunt. Do you understand me, sweetheart?”
His erection presses through his jeans against my still wet sex.
“I’ll never want you,” I hiss and spit at him.
He grunts, makes a crude point of licking the spit from his face, and then begins brutally bucking against me. At first it hurts and I start sobbing again, but soon the build begins to burn in my pelvis. “You think you don’t want this, but you do. Look at you. You can barely suppress your need for it.”
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
I squirm and move but it only intensifies the sensation.
“I could pull out my dick and push it inside you. Is that what you want? To feel me deep inside of you, baby?”
I shake my head but close my eyes when he lowers his mouth onto mine. His kiss is possessive and I’m powerless against it. Poor Brandon kisses me sweetly and his skin is soft. Gabe kisses me with promise. Promise to take and possess. It only serves to madden and conflict me further. My body shouldn’t respond so easily. It should recognize the wrongness of his actions and side with my mind.
But it doesn’t.
His lips suck on mine. His thick tongue dances with mine. The shadow of dark hair that is growing on his face scratches my skin raw in a delightful way.
I’m going to orgasm again.
I can feel it.
His hardness rubs between the lips of my pussy and I gasp out in pleasure, acting out against the furious storm brewing in my head. My body wants this. The way he grinds against me is painful yet addicting,
like the bliss of heroin surging through your veins after a hit. In your head, you know it’s wrong. You know eventually it will kill you. And yet…your body craves it anyway. Against all rational reasoning.
I’m depraved.
“Stop,” I breathe.
He deepens the kiss that tastes like me before pulling away. “I’m not going to fuck you right now, but I need to feel you.”
His hand slides between us and he fumbles with his jeans. Soon, his erection slides up over my clit and I cry out.
“Oh God!”
A satisfied grunt escapes him before his mouth takes me again. I’m dizzy and lost in him. And the way his smooth, large cock slides against me is the most blissful sensation in the world. I’m wet and I wish—I actually freaking wish—he’d push it into me.
He’s right.
Gabe won’t have to rape me. I’ll beg for it. I’m so stupid and—
“Shit!” I curse against his lips. This time, my orgasm seizes me for longer. I flutter my eyes closed and live in the moment. I try my hardest to draw it out for longer. And yet, like before, it’s gone within seconds. As I come down from my high, wet heat spurts between us. I startle and my wild eyes meet his hooded ones that no longer seem frightening.
I’ve satisfied the devil, subdued him into a sleepy state.
“That was so fucking perfect, Baylee,” he says, his fingers brushing my lips. “I knew you’d be the right girl for this. Soon, you’ll hang on my every word. You’ll beg for the orgasms that make you crazy. Your world will revolve only around me.”
Terror, the elusive emotion, starts to make a reappearance. Not because I’m afraid of him, but because I think he’s right. He knows my body better than I do and he’s already proven how he can use it against me.
“I want my shower now.” The nasty bite in my voice shocks him—and I don’t miss the brief flash of hurt in his eyes—before he climbs off of me.
“Very well. You deserve one after that.”