by Dani René
I got blinded with that need and I acted without thinking.
I don’t even understand where I found the courage to get naked in front of the most perfect man I’ve ever seen.
Yet, I’m not only naked in front of him. I’m also reaching for his cock with shaking hands.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
I’ve watched porn before. Since I met Luca, I’ve watched women giving head to men so many times to learn how to please a man. But looking at his shaft, I don’t recall any of the things I tried to learn.
All I can focus on is the beauty of his masculinity.
Like every other part of him, his cock is gorgeous. Thick, long, veiny.
Even though I’m not experienced, I’m not a prude. I love the male body, at least I love looking at it in porn and all those nude pictures photographers share. But I’ve never found a man’s body as attractive as Luca’s, and I haven’t even seen all of him yet.
I suddenly start to giggle. I haven’t even seen this man’s chest; yet, I’m holding his dick in my hand.
“Something funny?” he asks above me. His voice is rough and husky.
“I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never done this. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He chuckles. And his cock twitches in my palm.
Frowning, I concentrate on his cock. The vein on the side that runs from base to tip seems bulky. Without thinking, I move the pad of my thumb over it, trying to soothe it maybe, I don’t really know.
I hear him hiss when I press on the vein, while moving my hand over his length. Looking up at him, I wrap my hand around him and repeat the move again and again, until his head rests back on the armchair with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.
He likes it.
As I watch this gorgeous, strong man struggling from the pleasure my hand gives him, I want to give him so much more. I want to give him my body in exchange for the power and control he’s allowed me.
Without giving myself a chance to question what I’m doing, I lean forward and wrap my lips around the bulbous head of his cock.
“Fuck,” he growls, and I watch him as he stares at me with fire no light can hide. His hand curls around my head, pulling my hair into a ponytail. When he tightens his fist, I feel the pain in my scalp. He directs my head the way he wants it, and when he pushes into my mouth farther than I find comfortable, I struggle to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.
“Breathe through your nose. Don’t fight me,” he orders, with an edge to his voice. Realizing I don’t have any other choice, I stop fighting the foreign intrusion.
“Dammit. Your mouth was made for this,” he bites out, pushing against my tongue. The salty taste of pre-cum rips a moan through my throat. For me, it’s the taste of rebellion, wildness, and maybe even freedom.
I look up at him, pleased with the way he stares at me. His half-lidded eyes blazing into mine. His face is pinched with pleasure and restraint. The vein on his neck strains, making me want to lick the length of it until I can stop at his parted lips. His hand on my hair loosens, and he slowly caresses the length of it that falls over his lap. When I moan with the pleasure of that sweet gesture, he tightens his hold and fists my hair once more, and I force myself to take more of his length.
As I kneel in front of him, while he uses my mouth for only his pleasure, I feel power and control like I’ve never felt before. Because this is my choice. What I want to feel. What I want to give. And what I want to take. The depravity he gives me ignites a wildness inside me, and it’s so potent I feel it coursing through my veins.
The grunts and growls coming from him sizzle against my skin, branding me with a fire I’ve never felt before.
“Perfect. Damn.” I hear him breathe out.
With a burning desire and the power of being wanted and needed, I increase the suction of my mouth around him and move my head up and down over his length. When I feel the saltiness of his cum, I tongue the slit on the head of his shaft, enjoying the taste.
His fist on my hair tightens even more, making me flinch, but his other hand comes to rest on my cheek, caressing my flushed skin with his fingertips in a feather-like touch, and I close my eyes to the sensation.
I feel him lean forward, the move making him slide a little deeper into my mouth. “Swallow me, okay?” he whispers.
With nerves fluttering in my stomach, I swallow around him, and his face breaks into a salacious smile that takes my breath away. “Just like that, my diamond. Just like that.”
When I nod slightly, he caresses my cheek once more and his hold on my hair gets even tighter. And that’s when I realize how much he held himself back until this very moment. He starts to really move, pushing his dick into my mouth with fast and deep strokes. Closing my eyes, I focus on bringing him to climax. I suck and suck until my jaw aches. When his thick cock gets even bigger between my lips, I know he is close to spilling into my mouth.
Opening my eyes to catch every second of this moment, I grip his thighs harder. My nails dig into his skin and his head cranes back, revealing that strong and long neck of his. His face tenses in the most fascinating way. His teeth hold his bottom lip captive and a groan vibrates his whole body.
With both of his hands moving to my hair, he holds me steady, before thrusting his hips twice more. Then his body stills under me, the jets of his cum coating my tongue and sliding down my throat.
I swallow every drop he feeds me and suck and lick his length clean. When I finally sit back, the look on his face can only be described as awe and wonder.
And I couldn’t feel prouder.
He lifts me up his body, and I curl over his lap. With my head against his shoulder, with his arms wrapped tightly around my naked form, I don’t remember ever feeling this much contentment. His lips whisper kisses over my temple, my hair, and my cheek.
“Beautiful Ramona. My diamond. What a perfect treasure you are.”
And in his arms, I feel like one.
I know I’m being carried, but as the heady scent of tobacco and whiskey mixed with masculine fragrance surrounds me, I don’t feel the need to open my eyes. I’m too comfortable to break free from this blissful state I’m in. Leaning more into the strong body, I surrender to darkness once more.
Somewhere between sleep and awareness, I hear a constant buzz while a soft light reaches me through my closed eyelids. I smell the same intoxicating scent of tobacco, whiskey, and Luca, but this time, there is the smell of leather and something flowery in the mix. When I catch unfamiliar voices murmuring, I want to open my heavy eyes, but when a hand strokes my hair in a soothing way, I am, once again, captured by the comforting arms of sleep.
Soft lips and the graze of something like stubble reaches me over the cloud of sleep. The pillow beneath my head is a little fluffier than I’m familiar with, and the bed is harder than what I’ve been lying on for the last couple of years. The usual flowery scent of my bedroom is replaced with the smell I’m already addicted to, which is now accentuated with the fragrance of soap. The light is so bright over my closed eyes, I frown. I never open the curtains in my room.
When I finally force my eyes to open, I see the gorgeous man I’ve been dreaming about for the last week gazing down at me with a devious smile on his face.
I lift myself on my elbows and look around.
The first thought that runs through my mind is how beautiful this place is with the perfect mix of simplicity and luxury. The dark colors in the room come to life and seem even more expensive under the sun’s rays coating the room.
The second thought, though, is that this isn’t my room. Hell, this isn’t even my house.
When Luca walks toward the end of the bed, I swallow my nerves, trying to understand what is really happening here.
“Where am I?” I murmur. My voice is calm, despite the anxiety and fear inside me.
“My house,” Luca answers, equally calm.
The endless blue of the pool outside of the room and the bright blue
sky call for my attention, and I turn to stare at the image in front of me as I try to sort my mind.
I get out of bed and walk toward the blues.
As I look beyond the pool, I realize how high we are. The city below is far away. I’m not even sure what city this is. It doesn’t seem like California, but thinking about how little I know, I can’t be sure.
I feel Luca’s presence in the room, but I don’t turn to look at him.
My parents wanted to send me away. To protect me. Protect me from what, I’ll never know. And now, I’m here. With Luca. In his house.
I whip my head around to glare at him. “My parents sent me with you? For you to protect me?”
Luca crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the far wall, staring at me. His eyes gleam with a brightness that makes me feel uncomfortable.
Think, Ramona. Think.
Luca seems powerful. Too powerful. And my dad seems to respect him; he might even be intimidated by him.
I remember last week. How scared Dad seemed to be when I went to visit him at the club. And then, last night, when Luca came to the party.
What if he didn’t send me with Luca to protect me, what if he tried to protect me from Luca?
Fear takes hold of my heart. My palms get sweaty as a lump forms in my throat. I frantically look around for an escape. Everything I look at is foreign to me. I look at the man I’ve been fascinated with since the first moment I saw him and I realize I know nothing about him. He’s a stranger who took me away from my parents, my house, and my life.
“My father is scared of you,” I finally murmur.
Luca’s face splits with a grin—one that is both playful and arrogant.
He knows I’m powerless against him. He knows I have nowhere to go. And I doubt my parents can stand up to him. I’m locked in this place. A penthouse.
I swapped one prison for another.
My eyes focus on him. My new warden.
Chapter Twelve
Luca
Damn, confusion looks good on her. I watch as her features go from confused to scared to fierce. I suppress the urge to chuckle at her glare. She looks like a cute little kitten ready to strike.
“You kidnapped me,” she finally says. Her hands turn into fists at her sides, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
I lick my lips as I let my eyes roam over her form, the flimsy fabric of the T-shirt doesn’t hide much. “It’s not kidnapping if the captive is willing.”
“I never gave you permission to take me away.”
Taking slow steps toward her, I smirk. “I thought you wanted to be free of that house.”
“Is this your way of freeing me?” She snorts, then her eyes blaze with anger. “You locked me in another castle.”
I bite my cheek to stop my smile. The flush of her cheeks, the soft curls of her hair fanning around her face, and the fierce brightness of her eyes only make her even more desirable as she stands in my bedroom. And after last night, after I know how good those lush lips of hers feel wrapped around my dick, I want more of her. More of her body with curves in all the right places. I think my expression conveys the right message because her gaze sweeps over me and she stops at my lips, before whispering shakily, “What will you do to me?”
Crooking my head to the side, I stare at her. The sun coming from behind her makes her hair shine like a golden halo.
What is it with me and her hair?
My dick is already hard, knowing she’s naked under that offending material of the T-shirt. I take one more step toward her and smirk when she takes one back, standing in front of the glass door that leads to the terrace.
Her pupils dilate as she peers up at me, and she swallows before licking her lips. Her creamy skin turns pink under my scrutinizing eyes. And with the desire to feel her body over mine, I eat up the small distance between us, pressing my body against hers, enjoying the sharp intake of her breath. “What do you want me to do to you?”
She blinks as she licks her lips, making me want to push her to her knees to feed her my dick once more.
“Let me go?” she whispers, but it comes out like a question. I know she doesn’t want to go. I think she’s perfectly happy where she is, pressed against me.
I lean down to nuzzle her neck. She cranes her head a little to give me room and I smile against her skin.
I may have kidnapped her, but she was more than willing; in fact, she would’ve begged me to take her. I lick the length of her throat and a moan escapes her. Her hands hold onto the fabric of my shirt, desperate for more, desperate for me. Kissing and sucking her skin, I reach for her hair and pull it hard enough to hurt, but her eyes are hooded and her lips part in an invitation. This beautiful girl likes when I’m rough with her. “Do you really?” I finally murmur against her lips. “Do you want to go back and be locked in a place where you spend your days being afraid of something you don’t even know?”
“Isn’t that what will happen to me here?”
Looking at her narrowed eyes, I chuckle. Her breath quickens, her chest rubs mine, creating a friction between us. I watch her bright blue eyes intently as she bites her bottom lip. A smirk spreads over my face when I feel her trying to press her thighs together, but instead, she squeezes my leg between hers and her eyes close as she sighs.
Pressing my leg where she desperately wants it, I finally answer her. “Here, I can set your body free. Here, you can know what you should be scared of and face your fears.”
“What should I be scared of?”
“Me, my diamond. Me.”
And what will happen to you when I get bored with you. I add silently, before I capture her lips with mine, welcoming her to my world of lust and depravity.
Chapter Thirteen
Ramona
Who would be happy about being kidnapped?
What does it mean to be happy about something so terrifying and traumatizing?
Yet, here I am, getting out of the pool with the last rays of the sun washing over my wet skin. The bikini I’m wearing is too provocative for someone who is kidnapped. The relaxed state I feel as his captive is ridiculous, but I feel it nonetheless, and as I see Luca watching me through the sliding doors of his bedroom, a smile teases my lips. He sits on the couch like he holds all the power in his hands. Like he knows all the secrets no one else is privy to.
I know I shouldn’t be happy to see him, shouldn’t want to smile when he shows me how much he wants me. I shouldn’t want him or the pleasure he gives me every day I wake up and every night before I pass out fully sated, but I do.
Oh, how much I do.
My mouth goes dry and desire thrums in my veins as he, not so discreetly, adjusts his erection as I stroll closer to him. I’ve tasted him too many times to count over the last three months I’ve been living with him. I should think of this as captivity, but it’s difficult to think of it that way when my body has felt nothing but pleasure.
That man’s mouth has kissed and licked every single inch of me. His fingers have touched, caressed, and probed every pleasurable spot on my body, all the while making me beg for him to fully take me. But he won’t. He’s owned me in every possible way with his touch and his mouth, but he hasn’t given me what I actually crave.
I shudder, remembering this morning. How he woke me up with his head between my thighs and then came all over my naked body. But it’s still not enough. I want to feel him inside me. I want him to fill me, claim me as his.
And I know I’m not right in the head for wanting any of these things.
I should be repulsed by him. By the idea of being touched by him since he took me away from my parents, from my home, and locked me in this extraordinary penthouse. Yet, I feel none of those things, no matter how much I try to talk myself into feeling some kind of dislike.
I love being here.
I love being the object of his depraved desires.
I love feeling wanted by this gorgeous, dangerous, and powerful man.
And I love tha
t he wants me so much that he kidnapped me.
Now, I want him to take me. Own me. Use me.
I slowly open the doors and walk toward where he sits. When I finally step directly in front of him, he looks up at me from the couch and quirks his brow. My eyes slide over his naked torso. He’s always shirtless when he’s with me, and I love looking at his strong chest carved with muscles and peppered with the perfect amount of hair.
I reach behind me and untie my bikini top, throwing the flimsy fabric away from my body. His lips part with a sharp intake of breath. He’s seen my breasts more times than I can count, yet every time I’m naked before him, it’s like it’s the first time. Like his desire for me never dissipates and only intensifies. When I push the bikini bottoms down my hips, his lips turn to a thin line as he grits his teeth and turns his hands into fists.
The effect I have over him makes me dizzy with the sense of power. With him, I finally feel like I have control over something, someone.
Leaning over him, I kiss the stubble covering his jaw until I reach his ear. I bite his earlobe before whispering, “Take me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he grits out.
I move my lips over the length of his neck, and my teeth graze the skin of his shoulder blade. “I know what I want,” I whisper against his skin. I move my kisses down to his pec and see how he flexes his hands. “I want you inside me.”
When the words leave my mouth, he pulls me over his lap, and I straddle his thighs. His hand fists my hair like it always does. He has an infatuation with my hair, and I love it so much, I bet I can come by him just stroking my curls.
“Where?” he asks, confusing me, but the challenging tone and the look he has excites me.
“Everywhere,” I murmur.
He laughs and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. It sounds cruel and dangerous, but also, ridiculously exciting.