Modern Fairy Tale

by Proby, Kristen

  Now I know his brothers stay here. They’re here somewhere.

  No, I’m sure I wouldn’t get far.

  “I want to feed you before I bathe you.” Carter’s statement cuts through the visions of me running until he adds, “Strip down and get into the tub while I get your dinner.”

  The dead hope is resurrected; he’s leaving me. The thought makes me more anxious than anything.

  As he leaves, Carter grips the door and adds, “I won’t be long.”

  Left with only the heat and comfort of the running water, my heart beats once, then twice.

  My eyes close and I whisper, “Don’t be stupid.” The aching inside, the desperate need to run, it’s all outweighed by the knowledge of what would come if I disobeyed.

  Would I really deny myself a reckless chance of freedom for a warm bath? For food and his touch? Have I been so deprived that such small comforts would rate so highly?

  My nails dig into my palms as I war with myself, and when my eyes open, all I see is myself in the mirror. My hair is tangled, although I’ve run my fingers through it daily. It’s oily and dirty, which is to be expected.

  My face is thin. Much thinner than I remember. Lifting the thin cotton shirt above my head, I inspect my body, running my fingers over my sides and down to my waist. The cell is so dim; I didn’t see the bruises from when I was taken. The cuts around my wrists have left thin white scars, and the bruise on my ribs is an ugly shade of dark brown that’s faded to nearly nothing.

  I hadn’t felt defeat until I was led from my cell, giving up the possibility to run only to see how damaged I’ve become.

  The sound of the water striking against the surface harder brings my attention to the tub.

  It’s nearly full. The steaming hot water and relaxing fragrance of lavender bath oils Carter poured in it, beg me to cave. To let go and stop fighting. To be good and do as I’m told. If only so I can rid myself of the sense of failure and remember who I am again.

  And I still remember those words he spoke days ago. He made a deal and I’m to help him. There is more to this than I know. “Be smart,” I whisper to myself. I’m playing a game without knowing the rules. Without knowing the next phase. The little bit of hope and wonder push me forward toward temptation.

  Turning the iron faucet, I realize it’s the first thing I’ve touched in weeks beyond the few items in the cell. Something as simple as turning a knob feels both foreign and nostalgic. I never want to go back to the cell. My chest feels hollow as I think, never, but I know that the choice isn’t mine.

  It is, a small voice murmurs in the back of my head. The voice that takes advantage of my pain and promises so much hope in whispers of deceit.

  Jasmine and lavender fill my lungs as I inhale the calming scents and quickly remove my shirt and shove my cotton pants down my legs. Although the clothes are new, they’re still dirty. Everything in that cell is dirty.

  The fabric clings to my toes and I have to kick it off and toward the puddle of clothes. Just as I do, I hear the heavy footsteps of Carter coming back.

  Fear keeps me from moving for only a moment, but then I quickly place a foot into the steaming water, hissing at the onslaught of heat and causing the water to splash around the tub. Water hits the floor as I move to step with my other foot into the hot bath, the heat becoming more and more welcoming as my body adjusts to it. With my back to the door, I hear Carter enter, but I ignore him, lowering myself into the tub filled with a warmth I so desperately needed. And hide myself from him.

  “How does it feel?” Carter’s voice carries through the room with a powerful resonance.

  Like heaven, I think as I turn slowly, careful not to splash the water, but also careful to stay under and somewhat hidden beyond the white bubbles on the surface.

  I try to tell him that it feels wonderful and thank him when I finally meet his gaze, but I’m silenced by the intensity within. His eyes swirl with the danger of a man close to getting what he wants. An animalistic heat passes between us and I can only nod for fear of what my voice would sound like if I dared utter a word to him.

  Thankfully, he tears his gaze from me and picks up a ceramic plate from the counter.

  “You need to eat.” Carter’s command sounds more like a reminder to himself. And again, I merely nod.

  I’ve had delicious food before. I’ve gorged myself on delicacies without thinking twice. It’s one of the only benefits of my upbringing. But the food Carter brought me makes my mouth water and my grip tighten on the tub to keep me from ripping the plate from his hands.

  He must see my eagerness; he always smiles that devilish grin when he knows I’m eager. Bastard.

  “Open,” he commands me and like a good girl, my lips part and I nearly moan when he slips me the small chunk of filet dipped in au jus with a dab of herbed butter smeared across the top. The meat melts in my mouth, the tastes singing on my lips. My eyes are still closed as I relish the food, thinking it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten when Carter brushes another piece against my lips.

  Instantly I open my lips for him, and his finger brushes against my tongue as he gives me a second piece and then another. My teeth scrape against his fingers and my eyes widen with worry that he thinks I did it on purpose, but he only feeds me more.

  The fear and worry slip away, just as the time does with each slice of tender meat.

  Blistered tomatoes and peppers along with roasted potatoes find themselves in the mix as Carter feeds me until my stomach is full and I can’t take another bite. It’s been so long since I haven’t felt hunger pains. It feels like forever since I’ve sunk into a deep tub, covered in hot water. I rest my head against the side of the tub and pretend like everything is alright. It’s only a small moment until the clinking of the ceramic plate on the tile floor disturbs me and brings me back to the present.

  My body stiffens slightly, sloshing the water toward the edge of the tub away from Carter as he dips a washcloth into the tub.

  His fingers brush against my skin and sinfully, I welcome the touch. It’s been so long, and I’ve been so lonely. I want more. I need more. I find myself wishing for him to take me like I know he wants to.

  Has he really broken me so easily? Or is this something I should want the way I do? The questions bring a haze to my mind and a thrumming in my blood. The washcloth travels over my body, starting at my feet and working its way upward. My calves, my thighs and so close to between them.

  I know he can hear my heavy breathing; he can see how I grip the edge of the tub. But he doesn’t touch me there. Instead, he tells me to wet my hair and takes his time massaging my scalp and lathering my hair. The scent of the chamomile shampoo overwhelms me, and I hum ever so slightly until I hear it and stop myself.

  Everything feels so good.

  “Back under, songbird,” he tells me in that velvety voice. The voice I don’t want to disobey, and so I don’t. I do as he says. With every command he gives me, I do exactly what he says.

  He massages the washcloth over my shoulders and I whimper as he kneads the pain away. I hadn’t realized how much my body ached until he showed me so. A low groan of approval forces me to open my eyes and stare into his. But he’s not looking at my gaze. His eyes are focused on my hardened nipples, peeking up from the water.

  The washcloth makes a splash as it hits the water and slowly sinks to the depths of the tub. Carter lets his fingers trail down my chest, plucking one of my nipples and then the other. It happens slowly, his fingers determined but also giving me a warning. His rough thumb circles them first before tugging on them and causing my head to fall back and my thighs to clench. Each tweak sends a sharp spike of need between my legs, and I nearly spread them for him. My clit pulses with need. I feel it so strongly I don’t think it would take much at all for me to cum for him. And I can’t find it in me at all to find any shame at that fact.

  The dull desire that hasn’t faded, shoots through me and I welcome it.

  Carter’s dark
eyes find mine, but instead of reaching lower, his arm dips into the water next to me and he gathers the washcloth once again.

  I’m reminded of his patience. How slowly he does everything. I don’t know if he finds pleasure in teasing me or if it’s simply that he doesn’t want this moment to end, but either way, I lean my head back as he continues bathing me, and I don’t object until his hand is right where I’ve secretly been wishing for it to be.

  He brushes the washcloth against my throbbing clit and I gasp, moving away from the intense pleasure and making waves in the tub that splash over the edge. Fear and desire mix into a confusing potion that I drank long ago. And at this moment, I’d drink the bottle again, I’d suck it dry and lick the edge of the neck where the last beads of liquid would gather. That’s how badly I wish for him to do it again.

  “Don’t let go, Aria. If you do, I’ll stop,” he warns me and my lungs still. My body’s on fire with need. I slowly lower myself back under the warm water, until my breasts are hidden again, and I hold Carter’s eyes as I slowly reach back up and grip on to the edge. My body’s still, so still as Carter’s gaze flickers between my pussy and my stare. I bite down on my bottom lip as he reaches between my legs again.

  His movements have been steady and slow. Careful and considerate even. But as the washcloth falls into the water, brushing against my thigh and ass, and his fingers replace the cloth, his movements are nothing but savage.

  He shoves his fingers inside of me. My back bows as the sudden spike in pleasure crashes through every inch of my body.

  “Carter,” I whimper his name as he pushes his palm against my clit. I’ve never been touched like this. Air is torn from me and I can’t breathe or move or do anything but grip tighter and try to stay still as he finger fucks me harder and harder.

  “Carter,” I cry out his name louder into the hot air and grip the edge of the tub as hard as I can. I can’t let go but my body is begging for me to run, to move, to both get closer to the intense pleasure and to leave it quickly.

  I know when I do cum, it will split me into pieces and he’ll love how I shatter under his touch. It both terrifies me and thrills me.

  I should be ashamed as I writhe in the water. I should be embarrassed as he hisses when my pussy clamps around his fingers and my orgasm tears through me, coming faster and harder than it ever has before.

  My heart shouldn’t pound for more. My body shouldn’t ache for more. I shouldn’t sit up so quickly with the intention of gripping his wrist and pleading with him for more. The waves are still crashing through me as he turns around, grabbing the towel and ignoring how I’ve just come apart for him.

  My fears cloud the desire; they dim the sensation of lust that ricochets through my blood, my breathing steadying.

  But when he turns to face me, I know it’s alright. I know I did well to let him touch me. From the way he looks at me, it’s like he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Carter

  She’s too good. Too fucking perfect.

  And that’s how I’ll keep her so that each and every time I can ruin her. It’s a delicate balance, knowing what to offer her and when to take from her.

  Tonight, I’ve given more than enough, and I’ll feel her break beneath me. I’ll feel her shatter under me as I take every bit of her that I want. And she’ll fucking love me for it.

  The water falls around her in a patter onto the tile floor. She lets it drip down her back and sides. Even the thick towel I’m wrapping around her waist can’t hide her from me. I’ve felt every inch. Every curve is burned into my memory.

  Her skin trembles beneath my fingertips as I brush them against her shoulders.

  I take my time, letting each small touch catch her off guard. The gasps and sharp breaths only add to the thrill. My cock is harder than it’s ever been as I lead her to the bedroom and she clings to that towel as if she’ll be able to keep it.

  Her small frame casts a shadow on the thick carpet, the moonlight shining through the drapes. I can practically hear her heart beating as she stares at the bed. My fingers slip over her silky skin and I let my lips fall to her shoulder, so I can whisper, “You don’t need this anymore.” My fingers slip between the plush towel and her soft skin. I half expect my songbird to object. To continue to pretend like she doesn’t want this.

  But to my surprise and delight, she lets the towel fall and gently steadies her back against my chest when I take that small step forward, discarding the distance between us.

  My fingers dip into her cunt, her hair tickling my fingers as I pet her still-swollen clit. I’m rewarded with her ass pushing against my cock, her back bowing, and a small moan that’s barely muffled.

  “It’s my turn, Aria,” I say, and my voice nearly trembles at her name when I feel her thighs tighten around my fingers. “Are you ready again so soon?” I turn her around, her small breasts a beautiful flushed color and her bottom lip drops in surprise like she’s been caught.

  “You’re eager to cum again and feel that sweet, sinful torture paralyze your body?” I take a half step forward, forcing her ass to bump against the bed.

  “I bet I could make you cum just from sucking these,” I tell her and pull her pale petal pink nipples between my middle and pointer fingers. I tug on both at once. Her head lolls slightly, but those beautiful hazel eyes stay on mine as she moans.

  “Sit.” I give her a simple command. And she obeys. I can’t describe the pride, the satisfaction from watching her so eagerly waiting for another command. “Good girl,” I add, the words slipping out easily, and my hand rests gently on her thigh. I move it upward until I grip her ass and toss her higher onto the bed.

  “Show me your cunt.” Her cheeks blaze a bright red, even in the darkness, but letting her head fall back and staring at the ceiling, she parts her legs and then bends her knees, digging her heels into the comforter beneath her so I can see my prize.

  “Look at me,” I tell her, surprised by my own irritation. Her eyes instantly find mine, widened slightly. “Watch me. I want you to know how I look at you. What I think of you. Do you understand me?” She doesn’t hesitate to nod. And glancing between her face and her spread pussy lips, I make sure she’s watching me intently.

  My fingers trace along her lips, soft and wet with arousal. Goosebumps travel over her thighs and she shivers when I gently push on her swollen nub. Her back arches off the bed as my fingers slip over her entrance and then back up.

  “Beautiful,” I say the one word, and that gorgeous blush in her chest creeps to her cheeks. I’m careless as I rip my shirt off on my way to the nightstand.

  I have two sets of cuffs, but I’ll only use one pair tonight. Pulling the door open, I grab the set and grip her wrist to move it where I want it. Her inhalation of surprise is met with the sound of the cuffs tightening, one on her wrist and one on the bedpost. Outstretched, she struggles not to object.

  I can tell by the way she readjusts herself that she knows what’s coming. I unbuckle my pants and she stills; they fall to the floor and my stiff cock juts out. I’ve never known how badly my cock could ache to be inside of a woman. Until now.

  Gripping it and stroking once, precum already beads at the head.

  My gorgeous Aria whimpers with need.

  “Spread your legs for me.” Before I’m finished speaking the words, she’s already obeyed.

  “I’ve waited so long for this,” I admit to her as I crawl up the bed and over her small frame. My hips fit between her thighs and my cock nestles in her pussy as I lower my lips to the crook of her neck.

  I’ve agonized over how I’d fuck her the first time. Whether I’d make her ride me so she couldn’t deny how badly she wanted me. I wasn’t sure if I’d be slow and steady, making her scream for me to fuck her harder as she got closer to the edge of her orgasm.

  But now that the time has come, I realize how selfish I am. How truly and deeply to the core selfish I am.

  All I want to d
o is take what’s mine. To slam myself inside her to the hilt and fuck her like she’s my whore. Mine and mine alone.

  And that’s exactly what I do. In one swift stroke, I ravage her. Her tight pussy is already hot and wet and eager for my cock. She takes all of me and screams out a sweet sound of utter rapture. With her free hand, her nails rake down my chest as her heel digs into my ass.

  The need to keep still inside of her while she cums violently on my cock is overridden by the desire to piston my hips and rut between her legs. The sweet smell of her arousal and the sounds of our flesh smacking together repeatedly are everything I’ll need to justify what I’ve done.

  She struggles under me, her shoulders digging into the mattress with each hard thrust. Every time I pound into her, she responds like she was made just for me. The tightening of her pussy, the strangled cries, and sweet tortured moans are better than I ever could have imagined.

  Her nails dig into my shoulder as I keep a relentless pace. My balls draw up and my spine tingles with the desire to cum deep inside of her.

  But I need more. Gritting my teeth, I fuck her harder and faster until a cold sweat breaks out on my skin.

  She screams out again, but the scream is different this time. It’s pain. It’s reflected in her face too. My heart sinks in my chest until I see her wrist, being pulled against the metal cuff.

  Fucking hell. I’m agitated and reckless as I climb over her, her arousal covering my dick as I dig in the nightstand for the key to unlock the fucking cuff.

  It takes longer than I’d like and when it’s finally free, I don’t waste a second to grip her hips, then flip her over so she’s on her knees with her ass in the air. She yells out in surprise, but it’s silenced when I slam all of me back into her welcoming heat.

  The sweet sounds filling the air are heaven. With every thrust, she cries out in pleasure.

  I grip her ass with both of my hands, nearly cumming with her as she spasms on my cock. Her nails dig into the sheets and her thighs tremble with the ripple of her release.