Claiming My Sweet Captive

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Claiming My Sweet Captive Page 12

by Julia Sykes


  “You read all of them today?”

  “I tried to go slow, but they’re so good.” Her eyes practically rolled back in her head when she said so good, as though she experienced transcendent pleasure while reading. “And I process things really fast. I usually do more than one thing at a time to stay occupied. But this was good,” she hurried on. “Way better than staring at the ceiling.”

  “I’ll have to get you more, then.”

  “You don’t have to get first editions,” she replied, still speaking rapidly. I’d thought it was a nervous tic, but it seemed words tumbled out of her when she was excited, too. I rarely saw anyone express this level of passion about any subject, but she practically bubbled with enthusiasm. She really was adorable.

  “I like newer stuff, too,” she babbled on. “Graphic novels are awesome. Works by Frank Miller and Alan Moore are great.”

  “I’ll get those for you, then,” I told her, my smile remaining fixed in place. It felt strange to hold it for so long without my lips curving in cruel amusement or twisting in an arrogant smirk. Samantha’s levity was infectious. “And more first editions.”

  I’d give her anything she wanted if it made her this happy. The innocence about her I’d found so enchanting went beyond her sexual inexperience. There was something sweet and pure in her, and I craved more of it.

  “But I just said you don’t have to,” she protested, but her eyes still shone with excitement. “I’ve read most of them online, anyway.”

  “But they made you smile. So, you’re getting more. Don’t argue with me, Samantha,” I added sternly before she could protest further. “I’ll put in an order tonight, and they’ll be here in the morning.”

  “How did you get them so fast? These had to be really hard to find.”

  “There was a store in New York that had them in stock. I sent someone to go get them.”

  “But I just told you I was bored last night.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not a long flight.”

  I gaped at him. “You flew someone from Chicago to New York and back again overnight to get me some comic books?”

  “Yes, and it made you smile. So, the fifteen minutes it took me to set it all up was more than worth it.”

  Her joy deflated, her smile melting as her eyes tightened.

  “What’s wrong?” Had I said something to destroy her happiness? Now that I’d experienced her levity, its sudden absence made my stomach drop.

  “I don’t want anything you bought with your Bliss money,” she said quietly.

  My jaw tightened, my pleasure effectively doused. “You’ll get the books anyway,” I declared. I’d promised I’d get them for her, so I would follow through. She’d smile for me again, regardless of her wishes at the moment. She would learn to be happy around me.

  “I won’t read them.” Her stubborn streak resurfaced.

  “That’s your choice. You’ll still have them.”

  I could wait her out. If I left the comic books by the bed and kept her isolated with them, she’d eventually turn to them for entertainment. She’d expressed her misery at being chained up with nothing to occupy her busy mind.

  She glared at me, her clever brain immediately processing my ruthless plan. “You’re trying to manipulate me again. You know I’ll go out of my mind and end up reading them if they’re in here.”

  A ghost of my smile returned. “If you already know this, then why bother fighting me on it?”

  “Because you’re a smug bastard, that’s why.”

  I shook my head at her, but my smile didn’t waver. She’d just given me the excuse to implement the training I’d been plotting for her all day. “I’m going to find a better use for that dirty mouth.”

  I finally closed the distance between us and unlocked the length of chain from the bedpost, but I kept the other end attached to her collar. I gave a gentle tug, urging her to her feet.

  “Come.” She didn’t move immediately, so I applied a little more pressure.

  She eyed me warily, but she had no choice. She got to her feet and began to follow me out of the bedroom. “Where are we going?”

  “What was it you so charmingly called it?” I mused. “Oh, yes.” I shot a wicked smirk at her. “My torture room.”

  She didn’t seem to find the words remotely funny. She stopped in her tracks, refusing to take another step. I kept walking and pulled harder on the chain. She stumbled, fighting me. Her hands fisted around the chain, and she tried to yank it out of my grip.

  My arm barely twitched toward her, despite the fact that she was pulling with all her strength. Her panic made me pause and turn to face her.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as though she’d been wrestling against me for long minutes rather than a few seconds. “I don’t want to go in there,” she said, her voice higher than usual. “I won’t cuss at you again. I won’t.”

  I shook my head, my smirk a touch indulgent. “You will. You can’t seem to help yourself.”

  “I’ll try really hard,” she promised. “Just don’t take me in there. Please.”

  I took a step toward her, intending to soothe her. She flinched away.

  I frowned and pulled on the chain, forcing her body to tumble against mine. She clutched at my shoulders for balance, and I grasped her waist to steady her.

  “This is part of your training,” I told her, keeping my tone even and smooth to calm her. “It will feel good. Not everything in that room is meant to cause you pain.”

  “It scares me,” she admitted on a shaky whisper.

  All my resolutions from the morning to treat her as nothing more than my sex object crumbled away. After witnessing her joy, her terror made something tighten in my gut. I wanted her to trust me implicitly. I wanted her to willingly follow me into my playroom and submit to her training.

  I leaned into her and softly pressed my lips against hers. I intended to be gentle with her this time, since she was spooked.

  But then, she tried to pull away. I curved my hand around the back of her head and locked her in place, slanting my mouth over hers so she had no choice but to shape her lips to mine.

  Unlike the savage way I’d claimed her mouth while she’d been suspended, this kiss was deliberate: a slow, thorough seduction.

  Her body softened, and her fingernails dug into my shoulders, clinging to me. I growled my approval and nipped at her lower lip, demanding that she open for me. Her lips parted, and her tongue tangled with mine. I kissed her, long and deep, until her knees sagged and she meekly accepted my claim, giving me full control of her mouth.

  I finally pulled away, satisfied that she was ready to accept more of me in that pretty mouth. My cock was rock hard against her hip, straining toward her in anticipation of those soft lips wrapping around my shaft, her tongue caressing my length.

  She gasped for air, her body melded to mine. I supported her with my arm around her lower back, so she was sure to feel my desire for her pressing into her soft flesh.

  “Are you still scared?” I asked, running my fingers through her hair.

  Warmth flooded my chest when she leaned into my touch. “No.”

  “I promise this isn’t going to hurt,” I reassured her. “Only pleasure today.”

  A little wrinkle creased her brow. “But I cussed at you. I called you a bastard.”

  “I heard you the first time,” I said drily. “We’re going to train your mouth. From now on, every time you curse at me, you’re going to make it up to me by using your tongue another way.”

  She trembled in my arms, fear stirring in her pale eyes. “I don’t… I haven’t ever…”

  I continued to stroke her hair, quieting her. “I know you haven’t. I’m going to teach you. And I’ll make it feel good for you, so you associate my cock in your mouth with pleasure.”

  “You’re trying to condition me again.” I wasn’t sure if her voice shook from trepidation or tentative anticipation. “I don’t like when you do that.”

  “You’ll li
ke this.” I skimmed my hand over her bottom before dipping between her legs. My fingers played through her soft folds, stimulating her until she began to grow slick in response.

  “Did you know your body is capable of having multiple orgasms?” I asked as I played with her. “I wonder how many you’ll have before you can’t take any more.”

  “Please…”

  “Please make you come?” The question lilted with arrogant mockery. “Not yet, sirenita. You have to come into my playroom first.”

  “It’s a torture room,” she countered, but the contradiction came out huskily.

  “It’s where I play with my fucktoy. That makes it my playroom.” That had been true with the other women I’d trained. With Samantha, I wasn’t so sure. I wanted her to please me sexually and serve me eagerly, but that didn’t feel like enough from her. I craved more.

  Then, her wetness coated my hand in response to the crass word. It seemed a dark, secret part of her enjoyed the idea of servicing me.

  “I’m not your fucktoy,” she tried to deny me.

  “It’s not an insult, so there’s no need to look so spiteful.” My tone deepened, so the words would reach inside her and touch the devious little part of her soul that had her soaking wet. “You’re my toy, my plaything, my pet. And you love when I play with you and pet you. See? You’re creaming all over my hand.”

  Her breathing stuttered. “Just because my body feels one way about it doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “Don’t lie, cosita.” I understood her a little better now. “You wouldn’t have watched all that kinky porn if you didn’t like it. If you didn’t long for it.”

  “I longed for…I don’t want this with you.”

  More lies.

  “Then why am I the only man who’s ever touched you? You were so skittish at first. Do you really think you would have found pleasure with someone else? They wouldn’t have understood how to handle you. Not like I do. You need a firm hand.”

  “I don’t,” she protested weakly.

  I brushed a kiss over her lips. Her head tipped back in response, accepting me.

  “No more lies,” I murmured, my lips brushing hers

  Her pride was telling her to argue, so I’d relieve her of that impulse. “You don’t have permission to speak. I’m not going to gag you, but know that there will be other consequences if you defy me. The next time you use your mouth, it will be to suck my cock. Once I come down your throat, you’ll be allowed to talk again.”

  She gaped at me, and I traced her parted lips with my fingertips.

  “Just like that,” I said with satisfaction. “I’m not going to force your mouth, but you will accept me before we leave the playroom.”

  She shook her head in denial, but she didn’t utter a word. My satisfaction with her easy compliance faded when her eyes began to slide out of focus. I recognized the signs that she was about to shut down on me, the way she had when I’d touched her pussy for the first time.

  I threaded my fingers through her hair, tugging slightly. “Cosita,” I called her back to me. “Don’t be afraid.” I spoke sternly, commanding her attention. “This is new for you, but I’ll guide you through it. You’re safe with me.”

  Her full attention focused on me, the same way she’d looked at me when I bound her in rope: like I was the only thing in her world.

  Something expanded in my chest as she nodded her agreement, obeying my order for silence. Taking away her ability to speak seemed to calm her in a way any demonstration of force couldn’t. I could spank her ass red until she stopped arguing with me, but that left her humiliated and chastised, even if it did arouse her.

  When I gagged her, she was able to let go of her panic and her pride. She couldn’t argue, because she didn’t have the option. Now, a simple order for her silence effectively muzzled her. It could be the result of successful training, but I suspected it also brought her peace from her runaway mouth. Samantha found secret release in this aspect of submitting to my control.

  When I finally released her and began to lead her toward the playroom, she followed meekly in my wake, all earlier terror melted away.

  I opened the door and flipped on the lights. She shuddered and took a step back, her eyes fixing on the spanking bench. Maybe I’d made a mistake in pushing her so hard for her first punishment. It was time to teach her to crave being brought into my playroom.

  “No, cosita,” I chided her for her hesitance and wrapped my arm around my waist, guiding her forward. “We’re not using the bench today,” I promised, leading her farther into the room. I pointed at the black, curved device that was built for her to straddle while on her knees. “Do you know what this is? You have my permission to speak.”

  “A Sybian,” she answered immediately.

  Satisfaction curved my lips. “Such a clever, kinky virgin.”

  “But I can’t…” Her cheeks flushed crimson. “There’s not a dildo attached.”

  My little virgin had certainly done her research. How depraved was the pornography that she preferred? Probably not half as perverted as the things I planned to do to her.

  “My fingers and my cock will stretch your tight little pussy before I put anything else inside you. The vibrations will be strong enough that you’ll feel it everywhere. Your clit, your pussy, your ass. I don’t need to fill you with a fake cock to make you scream in pleasure.”

  She swallowed, her cheeks glowing brighter. “That… That sounds…intense.”

  Her gaze fell to my erection, which was clearly visible through my slacks. Our kiss had aroused me, and anticipation of her hot, untried mouth around my cock kept me hard.

  “I won’t be able to fit… It won’t fit,” she mumbled, staring at the bulge.

  I smothered my amusement. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her inexperience, but I did find her embarrassment adorable. Such a kinky girl to be so shy about saying the word cock.

  “We’ll go slow,” I told her. “You can take me. You will learn.”

  Her chin lifted slightly. “And if I say no?”

  I met her challenge with a level stare. “Are you saying no?”

  “I… I’m nervous. I mean, you’re so big. And I’ve never… I don’t know…”

  I captured her lips with mine before her nerves could overwhelm her. The kiss lasted for several minutes, until I was certain her mind had quieted. The anxious tension eased from her slender frame, and I allowed her space to breathe.

  “You don’t have to talk anymore,” I murmured, my lips brushing her cheek in a feather-light kiss. “It’s okay to be nervous. I’ll be right here to tell you what to do.”

  She nodded, her crystalline eyes shining with relief.

  I grasped her upper arms, guiding her down so she straddled the Sybian. “On your knees.”

  She moved with uncharacteristic grace, her body supple as I positioned her where I wanted her.

  “So beautiful,” I praised as she settled down onto the machine. The sight of her on her knees before me made my cock throb. She’d never been more alluring, not even suspended in my ropes. Her eyes were clear of fear or worry; she simply looked up at me, waiting for what I would tell her to do next. Her serene expression could almost be mistaken for one of absolute trust.

  She didn’t trust me. Not fully. Not yet.

  I didn’t think she’d try to rise up off the Sybian once I turned it on, but after her first orgasm, she might try to squirm away for relief from the relentless sensations. Flooding her system with ecstasy was a key component in my plan. After this session, her pussy would grow wet at just the thought of my cock in her mouth.

  I strapped her down on the machine, so she couldn’t escape the stimulation. When her ankles were cuffed and locked in place, I secured her arms above her head. Another pair of cuffs dangled from a chain bolted into the ceiling. It only took a few seconds to buckle them around her wrists, effectively shackling her in place for erotic torment.

  She didn’t struggle or protest. If anyt
hing, she seemed curious, her sky-blue eyes watching me as I locked her where I wanted her.

  Was she interested in the effects of the Sybian after watching her porn? Or was she secretly curious about what it would be like to taste my cock?

  The idea didn’t seem to disgust her. If anything, her nervousness about taking me in her mouth had pertained to her physical ability to accept all of me. She’d been embarrassed about her inexperience.

  I would thoroughly enjoy teaching her how to bring me pleasure.

  Keeping her locked in my gaze, I reached into my pocket and pressed the button on the small remote that controlled the Sybian.

  “Oh!” She let out the cutest little cry when the machine began to rumble beneath her. Her shocked expression quickly turned to one of bliss.

  I smirked and pulled the remote from my pocket, so she could see that I controlled her stimulation. “You like your new toy, gatita?”

  She moaned and nodded, remaining nonverbal. She didn’t have to use words to communicate, not when she was in my power. Her only concern was to submit to whatever I wanted to do to her. She made the sexiest little sounds when she couldn’t speak.

  I stroked her cheek, communicating my pleasure with her. “Greedy girl. I want you to keep count of how many orgasms you have. Can you do that for me?”

  She swallowed and nodded again. Moving almost tentatively, she rocked forward slightly so she could press her clit against the vibrating machine. Her lashes fluttered, and she rolled her hips, obviously enjoying the sensations against her pussy and ass. Once she started, she couldn’t seem to help herself. I watched her grind against the Sybian, my own unfulfilled lust tormenting me.

  “You’re going to be so beautiful when you’re riding my cock like that,” I said, my voice rough with need. I traced the line of her parted lips with my thumb. She didn’t turn her face away, so I applied pressure, slipping inside her mouth.

  I rubbed my thumb against the tip of her tongue, stimulating her nerve endings. Her body was primed for sexual pleasure, so I stopped rubbing to test her. She groaned and immediately licked my thumb, seeking more sensation. I started to gently pump in and out of her mouth, pushing a little farther each time. When I neared the back of her tongue, I applied pressure. Her throat contracted, but I didn’t let up. She adjusted quickly, learning to breathe through her nose and suppress her gag reflex.

 

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