Sweet Captivity

by Julia Sykes

  “Has any man ever touched your breasts?” he asked before flicking his hot tongue against my tight, aching nipples.

  A rough shout tore from my throat, and I thrust myself toward the delicious heat of his mouth. But my cruel restraints held me in place, and he moved away to blow another torturously cold stream of air over them. I whined and writhed, acting like the wild thing he claimed I was.

  “Answer me,” he prompted. “Be honest, and I’ll kiss your pretty pink nipples.”

  “No,” I said, the confession leaving me in a rapid-fire stream. “Not really. Not like this. I went to a convention once. I dressed up like The Dark Phoenix. From X-Men. Cosplay, you know? So this guy was Wolverine. I met him at an after-party. He kissed me and copped a feel. But it was over my costume. So I guess that doesn’t really count. Does it? I used to think so. But I—” My lust-addled speech ended on a sharp cry when his lips touched my nipple, his tongue swirling around it before flicking the peak.

  Keening, animal sounds left me in a steady stream as he continued to stimulate my breasts, alternating between plucking at my nipples with his fingers and kissing the sting away with his soft lips. My head thrashed against the pillow, and I began to lift my hips up in wanton invitation. My core pulsed to the point of aching, my clit throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

  His palm rested on my belly, below my navel and tantalizingly close to my heated sex. His fingers traced little circular patterns just above my clit, teasing.

  “And your pretty little pussy,” he prompted. “Has any man ever touched you here?”

  “No,” I whimpered, my mind too far gone to worry over confessing my most embarrassing secrets.

  “Poor little virgin,” he murmured. “You need to be touched, don’t you?”

  “I… I want…” I bit my lip, barely holding back.

  “Tell your Master what you want,” he cajoled. “Tell me how you like to be touched. Do you put your fingers inside your tight pussy? Or do you rub your little clit?”

  “I don’t. I can’t. It’s…”

  Dirty. Wrong.

  Dirty little girl.

  Something awful stirred at the edges of my mind. I shied away from it. Instead, I focused on the heat that was consuming me, the tingling in my flesh, the gentle brush of Andrés’ fingers against my hypersensitive skin.

  “You don’t touch yourself?” His deep voice was colored with surprise. “You’ve never made yourself come?”

  “I… No.” Shame made my cheeks flame, but the heat in my sex kept me distracted. I couldn’t see, couldn’t think. All I could do was feel and listen to Andrés’ lilting voice as he asked me the most devious questions.

  “So you’ve never had an orgasm at all?”

  I shook my head and tried to lift my hips again, but his palm on my belly kept me pinned down.

  “Then let me show you what your body is capable of,” he said, the words distorted by his hungry growl. “In the future, you will beg me for this.”

  His hand finally shifted down to where I craved it most. One thick finger parted my wet folds, and my entire body tightened as he slowly slid it inside my channel. He felt huge as my inner muscles gripped him, torn between welcoming him in and pushing him out. Emotion swelled along with sensation, fear and pleasure crackling through my system. A harsh sob tore from my chest, and my tears wet the blindfold.

  “Too much,” I gasped out, twisting against my restraints. “It’s too much. Please—”

  “Don’t fight it,” he commanded, finding a secret spot at the front of my inner walls. He crooked his finger against it. At the same time, he brought his thumb down on my clit and rubbed in a demanding rhythm. “Come for me, sirenita.”

  Pleasure lit up my entire being, tearing through me with the force of a tidal wave. A raw scream echoed through the room as all my muscles tensed and shook. Bliss wracked my body, my mind. The world fell away as unrelenting bliss sang through my veins, sweeping away my lingering fear. All that existed was Andrés: his touch, his scent, his power. He’d wrung this unknown ecstasy from my soul, ruthlessly subjugating my being with earth-shattering pleasure.

  My sex tingled as he continued stroking me. Little lightning strikes of residual pleasure tormented me, making me tremble. I fully surrendered to sensation and sank back against the mattress, utterly sated and thoroughly conquered.

  Chapter 7

  Andrés pressed tender kisses against my slightly sore wrists when he removed the handcuffs that kept me bound to the bed. I didn’t move once I was free, and I didn’t stir when he unlocked the collar from around my neck. My eyes remained closed when he unknotted the blindfold; I wasn’t ready to face reality yet.

  I continued floating in quiet bliss as he unbuckled the cuffs around my ankles and carefully lifted my body up into his strong arms. He cradled me against his chest as he carried me, taking long, sure strides toward an unknown destination. I remained carefully cocooned in warm darkness, clinging to pleasure so I didn’t have to face the horror of my defeat.

  I noted that his chest was bare against my skin, his dusting of dark hair tickling my cheek. He must have removed his clothes while I lay boneless and mindless in my post-orgasmic haze.

  The world tilted, and my eyes fluttered open when my feet touched cool tiles. I watched with detached interest as Andrés reached around me and turned the knob for the shower. Water sprayed from every direction, multiple showerheads raining down. It seemed awfully decadent compared to my low water pressure, single showerhead setup at my shabby townhouse.

  My heart squeezed, and I quickly smothered my thoughts before they could start firing again. I didn’t want to think about my townhouse. About how far I was from home, even though I was located just across town. I might as well be on another planet.

  Andrés gripped my hips and guided me into the glass-fronted shower stall. The water was uncomfortably hot, and my pale skin turned pink almost instantly. He seemed to notice everything about my body, so he immediately turned the temperature to something more bearable.

  He stayed positioned behind me, and I was grateful for that. If I didn’t have to look at him, I didn’t have to process the fact that he was fully naked in the shower with me. I’d felt his erection, and that had been terrifying enough.

  He didn’t allow me much of a reprieve. His hands closed around my waist, pulling my body back against his so I could feel his hard length pressing into my ass. I tried and failed to swallow a whimper as some of my fear resurfaced, despite my best efforts to remain lost in lingering pleasure.

  “You’re still afraid of my cock,” he surmised, but he didn’t move away at the sound of my distress. “But you’re not afraid when I touch you anymore, are you?”

  To prove his point, he pumped soap into his hand from a dispenser on the wall before returning his touch to my breasts. He massaged them gently, and I moaned as his slick palms grazed my nipples. They were still tender from the arousal cream, and he made sure to tease the tight buds as he washed away the substance that lingered on my skin. My flesh tingled, but not as intensely as it had when he’d first applied the cream.

  One hand skimmed down my belly to carefully wash my sex, his other remaining at my breasts to play with my nipples. I shuddered and leaned back against him for support as pleasure flooded my body again, the tension at my core building.

  “You are a greedy girl,” he said, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “I knew you’d be like this. But you don’t deserve a reward. Not yet.”

  A humiliating whine slipped through my lips when he stopped touching me intimately. He grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him. My eyes darted around the bathroom, avoiding looking at his imposing body.

  He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face to his. I made the mistake of glancing up, and I found myself trapped in his steady black stare.

  “You don’t like looking at me,” he said, an acknowledgement of fact. “My scars frighten you.”

  “It’s not that,” I a
dmitted, the words tumbling out of me in my nervousness. “I mean, you’re scary. But your scars aren’t why you scare me. Well, kind of, because they mean you’re violent. But this is just a tic I have. I don’t really like looking at anyone. I have to for work, sometimes. It takes effort. It makes me uncomfortable. I mean…” I finally managed to end my rambling confession. Why was I telling him all this?

  Because I babbled when I was nervous, that’s why. Especially around alpha males, and especially when they turned their full, potent attention on me to impose their will. I did it with Jason, and I definitely did it with Dex. I could barely look at my best friend under normal circumstances, even when I didn’t have a reason to be intimidated. I was always nervous around him, in that butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of way.

  Not the way Andrés made me nervous. Nervous wasn’t an intense enough word to express the enormity of what he made me feel. It was why I couldn’t look away once he captured me in his dark gaze. I never maintained eye contact with anyone like I did with him. He didn’t give me a choice in the matter.

  He considered me for a long, tense moment, his jaw tight. “Would it make you more comfortable if I told you I didn’t get these scars in a fight?”

  I blinked at him. “What?” That didn’t make any sense. “Then how—?”

  “That’s enough questions,” he cut me off. “I am a violent man, but I won’t harm you. I’ll never let anyone harm you. You’re mine, which means you’ll be protected. It also means you’ll accept my touch and my cock. Look at me.” When he said it this time, I knew he wasn’t ordering me to look him in the eye. “All of me,” he prompted when I hesitated. “Now, cosita.” The last was dark with warning, and my eyes flicked down his body before I could contemplate further defiance.

  Once my gaze landed on his cock, I couldn’t look away. I might not have been with a man in real life, but I watched porn. And, despite his scarred body, Andrés could have starred in some of the most depraved videos I’d seen. He was huge, long and thick. His cockhead was purple with arousal, and a feminine part of me marveled that this reaction was for me.

  “Touch me,” he bit out, his control slipping. I gasped when his cock bobbed, straining toward me.

  I reached out and tentatively brushed my fingertips along his shaft. His skin was soft and smooth, but he was hard beneath my touch. He hissed in a sharp breath, and I felt him pulse under my fingers. I stared in fascination. I was doing this to him, affecting him the way he’d affected me. A strange sense of heady power teased at the corners of my mind, and I struggled to resist the perverted satisfaction. I shouldn’t enjoy my captor’s lustful reaction to me.

  But it was undeniable that my body instinctively reacted to him, so the knowledge that the balance of power wasn’t entirely stacked against me gave me some courage. I wrapped my hand around his length and stroked him from base to head.

  “Good girl,” he said, his voice more ragged than I’d ever heard it. He was at the edge of his control. I wanted to push him over that edge, to break him the way he’d broken me.

  He reached between us with his soap-slicked hand and applied a liberal amount. When I slid my fist back, it glided across his flesh, and he groaned.

  “Do you know how hot it is watching you touch me?” he ground out. “Knowing I’m the first man you’ve touched. The only man you will ever touch. Your first and only, my sweet virgin.” A bead of moisture formed on his cockhead, quickly washed away by the cascading warm water.

  Emboldened by his words, I used my free hand to cup his balls, gently exploring their shape and weight.

  He rasped out something in Spanish that I suspected was a very dirty word. A sly smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I struggled to smother it. He was coming apart beneath my touch, losing control. The heady sense of power that I’d been resisting finally settled over me, and I handled his shaft with greater confidence.

  “Naughty gatita,” he said hoarsely. His hand fisted in my wet hair, tugging hard enough to make my scalp light up with awareness. “Very naughty.” He cursed again, and his grip on my coppery strands increased to the edge of pain. It only served to spur me on.

  “Make me come, sirenita,” he ordered in an obvious effort to take back control with a command.

  But the way he pumped his hips toward me to increase my pace let me know who truly held the power in this moment. He came apart on a harsh shout, his hot seed lashing out to coat my stomach, the heat of it lingering on my flesh even as the water washed it away.

  His body pressed against mine, backing me up to the tiled wall as he braced his hands against either side of me. He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing hard.

  “That’s enough,” he said with a shudder.

  I finally moved my hand away, satisfied at the sight of his undoing.

  A sharp grin suddenly lit his features. “Time for your reward, gatita.”

  “What?” I asked, disconcerted by his jovial mood. I’d expected his anger at being broken under my inexperienced hands, maybe even shame.

  “Good girls get positive reinforcement.” He tenderly stroked my cheek. “Remember, my pet?” He leaned in so his hot breath played across my neck as he whispered in my ear. “Your Master is training you to please him. You did very well. You’ve earned a reward.”

  “No,” I said, shaken. How had this turned against me? I’d been riding high, triumphant. He twisted my victory into yet another defeat.

  “You don’t get to refuse, pet.”

  “I’m not your pet.”

  “Aren’t you? You wanted to act like a naughty gatita. You will be tamed, Samantha.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Your little pussy wouldn’t get so wet for me if you didn’t want this. You wouldn’t have come so hard while you were bound and at my mercy.”

  “That’s so fucked up. You’re—”

  His hand clamped over my mouth, his long fingers pressing into my cheek almost to the point of pain.

  “We’re going to have to work on that tongue of yours. I have a pretty gag that I think will suit you well until you can learn to mind your language when you speak to me.”

  My eyes flew wide, and I tried to shake my head. His hand firmed on my face, stilling the sign of my denial.

  “Hush now, gatita. It’s time for your reward.”

  I brought my hands up and wrapped them around his forearm, clawing at his flesh with my fingernails in an attempt to free my mouth from his cruel hold.

  He growled and released me, but only long enough so he could roughly turn my body to face the wall. His weight pressed against my back, pushing my breasts hard against the cold tiles. I yelped and tried to push back, but my hands slipped uselessly against the slick wall. He wrapped one hand around my throat, squeezing. This time, he applied enough pressure to restrict my airflow. I thrashed on wild instinct, but his weight kept me pinned and powerless.

  Please, I tried to beg him to release me, but the word couldn’t make it past his hold on my throat, and a strangled sound emerged instead.

  “Breathe, cosita,” he urged, not letting up.

  I barely managed to suck in shallow breaths. My head began to spin, and I stopped fighting as the strength seeped out of my body. His free hand dipped between my legs, gathering up the slick arousal that inexplicably coated my inner thighs. He moved his touch farther back, trailing his slick forefinger over a sensitive patch of skin between my sex and asshole, then…

  No. My lips formed the word, but I wasn’t capable of wasting any air to make a sound of protest.

  His finger pressed against my tight ring of muscles. I clenched, resisting. He nipped at my earlobe, and the little jolt of pain sizzled through me, reaching my core and making it throb. As it contracted, his finger slipped inside me. He barely penetrated me, but I felt horribly full and utterly trapped. My knees began to tremble as I continued to struggle for oxygen.

  “Are you sorry for scratching me?” he asked calmly, as though he wasn’t degrading me in a way I
’d never wanted to experience.

  I managed a thin whine and nodded slightly.

  He kissed the hollow beneath my ear. “Good girl. Don’t do it again.”

  He pressed forward, sealing the rebuke by sliding his long finger all the way inside me. My muscles rippled around him, burning as my body tried to resist the intrusion. Something dark stirred low in my belly, tension coiling at my core.

  He finally released my throat, and I gasped in a desperate breath. The rush of oxygen went straight to my head, and the world spun around me. Remaining seated deep inside my most forbidden area, he caught my falling weight with his other strong arm around my waist. I sagged back against him, sucking in air. His hand splayed beneath my bottom, bracing me as a second finger found my wet channel. He eased inside my sex, and I could feel him filling me everywhere.

  It was too much to bear, too humiliating. Too stimulating. Rational thought had been obliterated in the wake of the primal imperative to breathe, to survive. My body could only shake and submit to what he was doing to me. All my sensitive nerve endings lit up, and the tension that had been coiling deep inside me released, leaving me on a ragged shout. My muscles clenched around his fingers as I found shameful ecstasy under his ruthless touch. He gently pumped in and out of me, making my nerve endings crackle and dance. Sparks of pleasure raced up my spine to flood my mind, overwhelming all my senses.

  The spinning world flickered around me, darkness sliding across my vision. I surrendered to it, closing my eyes as he continued to hold my weakened body upright.

  His fingers finally slid out of me, leaving me feeling strangely empty; hollowed out and utterly defeated. The water stopped falling around us, and he lifted me up in his arms again as though I weighed nothing. He was so strong, so hard and unyielding. A fine tremor raced through my exhausted body, the only movement I was capable of.