by Sweet, Izzy
Disturbed and still in denial, I’m quick to blurt out, “Yours.”
This is totally his dream.
I would never…
Using his grip on my ass to yank my hips closer, my slick sex slides against the hot, velvety length of his shaft.
I can’t help but moan a little as an electric wave of pleasure radiates from my clit.
Keeping one hand firmly on my ass, the other reaches up, tangles in my hair, and tugs.
I’m blind in the dark, but he still arches my neck back like he wants me to look up at him.
“Are you sure this is my dream?” he asks, suddenly sounding very serious.
Still refusing to take responsibility for starting this, I insist, “Yes.”
His breath hitches for a second then becomes faster, puffing against my forehead. “Think about it, Sophia… Are you sure?”
Locked hip to hip, I ache to writhe against him. To grind away some of this needy tension.
I’m so focused on trying not to give into the need to relieve the pressure inside me, I almost groan, “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Then so be it,” he says with an ominous finality I don’t understand.
Tearing his fingers from my hair, he rips my shirt over my head. Then he grabs my hips with both hands and flips me onto my back.
His heavy weight comes down on top of me, pinning me to the bed.
Caught by surprise, I try to push him away even as my body longs to bend and strain toward his.
“Remember, when given a choice, you chose this,” he growls then his lips smash against mine in a breath-stealing kiss.
All my senses reel as my brain struggles to catch up and process what’s happening.
Why does it matter if I chose this to be his dream and not mine when we both know where this will end?
How does it make any difference?
His tongue thrusts firmly past my lips, stroking against mine, and all other thoughts flee my head.
I may have technically been a virgin until today, but I’m no prude. I’ve experimented a little and kissed a few boys over the duration of my life.
The way James kisses… it’s almost indescribable, it’s that good. No other kisses I’ve had can even compare to the way he does it. His are on such a higher level, it’s like they’re not even the same thing.
The way he knows just how much pressure to use and always finds the perfect rhythm between pressing and pulling…
It’s like he’s making love with his mouth.
Or, at least, what I imagine what making love would be like if I ever did it.
I suppose how good he can kiss is what got me in this position in the first place, and I shouldn’t be surprised by how adept he is given all his experience.
But even now, having been well-kissed by him twice in my life, I’m surprised by how quickly I want to melt into the sheets in a puddle of pure bliss.
My body begins to relax, and I find myself grabbing at him. Kissing him back with a hunger that almost matches his.
As if he’s rewarding me, his kiss becomes so fevered, so intoxicating, I feel drunk when he finally pulls away to drag his lips down my neck.
Finding the most sensitive spot, he breathes hotly against it before latching on and suckling.
In the dark, unable to see, everything about him is intensified.
The size of his big body covering mine.
The sound of his breath as he pants.
The slight trembling of his hands as they start to roam over me in pure reverence.
Eventually his mouth moves on, dragging down to my chest where he lavishes each breast with equal attention.
But he doesn’t stop there.
Seemingly knowing where every sensitive spot on my body is, he begins to worship me all over with both his mouth and hands.
And nothing seems to be off-limits.
Kisses are placed against my stomach.
My thighs are nipped.
The back of my knees are licked.
Sliding down, he even grabs me and turns me on my stomach so his mouth can kiss a path down my spine and latch onto the left cheek of my ass.
The sensation is so disturbing at first, I want to crawl out of my skin. Clawing at the sheets, I try to fight my way away from him.
Ignoring my pleas to stop, he growls.
His grip firm and his mouth relentless.
Suckling and alternating between each cheek, gradually each pull tugs at something knotted deep inside me, loosening it.
By the time his grip releases me and he pushes me flat on my back again, I’m a panting, needy mess.
Grabbing my knees, he spreads my legs wide, and I quiver with anticipation.
Ready to have him inside me.
Ready to be filled and whole again.
But he doesn’t slide up my body.
No, he shoves his head between my thighs.
Unease floods through me as I feel his breath puff against my wet lips.
I’ve pretty much let him have his way with me up to this point. Let him taste and feel almost every other inch of my body.
In the dark, in the silence, it’s been easy.
He’s just a phantom lover from a dream.
But there’s something about having his face up in there that feels too… intimate for my liking.
“Don’t,” I gasp and reach down, pushing at his head.
Growling, he tries to ignore me like he did when he had me on my stomach.
I couldn’t reach him then, but I can now.
Palms pressing against his forehead, each time he tries to get close to my pussy, I shove him away.
Growing frustrated with me, he grabs my wrists and yanks my hands off his head.
Absolutely determined to keep his face away from there, I slam my knees together, denying him access.
He drawls my name out in a warning, “Sophia…”
A tendril of worry curls in my stomach hearing his voice in the darkness. The tone… the sheer masculine weight of it is downright threatening.
But I refuse to bend on this.
I’ve already let him do a great deal more to me than I normally would.
He should be satisfied with what I’ve given.
Grateful he can’t see it, I lick my lips nervously before I tell him, “No, James. I don’t want to do that.”
Until now, the lack of words and quiet between us has been comforting. It’s made it easier to forget where I am.
It also made it easier to forget it’s him with me in this bed.
The silence that follows my denial is so complete, so foreboding, it’s everything I can do not to squirm with unease.
And the longer it drags on…
James finally lets out a sigh and then I sense him moving up the bed with my hands still clutched in his grip. “Very well, have it your way…”
Thinking he’s respecting me on this and letting it drop, I start to relax.
Only to stiffen when I hear a strange click followed by what sounds like the rattle of chains.
“James? What are you doing?” I ask as I try to yank my hands back.
Tightening his fingers around my wrists, he gives his own yank, forcing my arms above my head.
There’s another click quickly followed by the rattling of more chains.
Unable to see, I imagine the worst thing possible.
Afraid he’s going to bind me or tie me up, I yank hard on my arms again and roll away from him. Trying to use my body weight to slip my wrists out of his hands.
Grunting as my skin starts to slide out of his grasp, James’s fingers suddenly tighten around me so hard it hurts and he yanks me back.
I gasp in pain then pant at him as I feel him switch both of my wrists into one of his hands.
“James, please,” I plead into the darkness. “What are you doing?”
I sense movement over my head, but I have no clue what’s going on. Then I hear the sound of chains clinking together again.
“Whose
dream is this, Sophia?” James asks, his voice soft yet somehow coming off as incredibly menacing.
Goddammit. I should have known this whole dream thing would bite me in the ass.
“I don’t want to dream anymore. I want to wake up,” I declare.
To show I mean it, I yank again, tugging my arms down as hard as I can.
I escape about an inch before he pulls my arms right back. One-handed.
Before I can yank again, something wraps around my right wrist.
Whatever it is, it’s firm yet soft against my skin.
My stomach filling with more unease, I insist, “I mean it, James. I’m done. This isn’t fun anymore. Let me go.”
“Let you go,” James chuckles as if I said something incredibly funny, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as he keeps a firm hold on my hands.
Something wraps around my left wrist.
“I let you go once… Why would I do it again?”
The things wrapped around my wrists suddenly tighten. I tug, desperate to be free, but it’s already too late.
My arms drop only a couple of inches before being brought to an abrupt and jarring stop.
He fucking chained me up!
“You fucking bastard,” I hiss between my teeth, so angry my fear is momentarily forgotten.
James snickers and I feel the mattress dipping as he moves across the bed. “Yes, we’ve already established that I’m a bastard.”
A light clicks on and I turn my face away, squeezing my eyes shut against it out of instinct.
I feel him brush against my thighs and grit my teeth.
When I finally open my eyes, I’m greeted by red.
The entire room is lit by a deep red glow. A red glow that makes everything still seem dark somehow and very…
Nightmarish.
Breath quickening, I close my eyes and open them again, hoping I’m somehow hallucinating.
But no, everything is still red.
Blood red.
And James is kneeling above my thighs, staring down at me with a slight grin curving on his lips.
Body engulfed in the red glow, I swear he looks like a fucking demon ready to eat me. A strong, sadistic demon.
The cut of all his muscles is more defined by the deep shadows. Bulging with menace as he breathes deeply, as if he’s straining against something. And he has so many muscles, I swear the guy must spend most of his day working out.
His thighs alone look enormous as they cradle my thighs.
And his chest… dear Lord… his chest….
The breath freezes in my lungs as I drag my eyes down his washboard abs.
His cock…
Fuck.
His cock is so big, so hard, it’s pointing up, bobbing away from his stomach as he shifts his weight on his knees.
Gulping, I quickly jerk my eyes up to his face.
But there’s no relief to be found there.
If anything, it’s worse.
All the shadows are deepened on his face, causing the rest to stand out in sharp red contrast. In normal light, he’s already sickeningly handsome. But in this light, he’s so damn beautiful it almost hurts to look at him.
It’s fucking unnatural.
Eyes black, blacker than I’ve ever seen them, they roam slowly over my body. So intense, they make me want to squirm.
There’s also a gleam there I recognize. A feline gleam I’ve only seen in Fluffers’s eyes. The crazed, focused gleam she gets whenever she chases after a mouse or toy.
Ripping my eyes away from his face, I tip my chin up to see what’s restraining my arms.
My wrists are encased in thick black leather cuffs that are connected to two thin silver chains. The two chains meet together a few inches up, joined together by a silver loop. Then the chains spread, going their separate ways. Disappearing into two dark recesses in the headboard.
Oh god… James is such a twisted pervert, he literally has his headboard modified to hide the chains and cuffs.
And I have no clue what else he has hidden in there.
Digging my heels into the mattress, I try to push my body up so I can create enough slack in the chains to undo the cuffs.
As if he expected me to do just that, his weight comes down on my thighs, flattening my legs back down to the mattress.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” James asks, leaning forward.
Gently, his hands touch just beneath my wrists, wrapping around my arms and gripping me there.
His thumbs stroke me tenderly for a few seconds as I stare up at him horror.
Then he opens his hands and drags the tips of his fingers down the length of my arms.
The touch of his fingers is so light, so feathery it’s almost ticklish.
“How many times I’ve thought, dreamed, and fucking fantasized about having you chained to my bed?”
When he reaches my armpits, his touch finally tickles, and I find myself twitching and jerking. My legs trying to kick up but stopped by his weight.
My pulse is beating so hard now I swear I can feel it throbbing in my tongue as I tell him, “No, and I don’t want to know. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I’m serious, unchain me.”
I’m done. Done with this madness.
Because that’s what this is. Pure, psychological madness inside his head.
Chaining me up. The red light. Ignoring my demands to let me go. Revealing his secrets…
He’s totally gone off the deep end.
Ignoring me, James’s attention drops from my face, his eyes following his hands as his fingers trace down to my breasts.
I glance down and barely recognize myself.
With the red light painting my skin, my body looks erotic.
Almost obscene.
“This isn’t a game,” he rasps as his fingers stroke down and his palms drag across my nipples. “Not when I’ve killed as many men as I have…”
The way he says it… it sounds like he’s talking about killing more than the two men he killed the night he rescued me.
I shouldn’t say anything. I know I should keep my mouth shut.
But the worry that he’s killed more than the two men I know about is already planted in my head.
Trying my best to ignore the urge to squirm, to move, as his big hands continue to travel down, slowly crossing the expanse of my stomach, I gulp and say, “If you wanted repayment for the two men you killed, you should have taken me when you had the chance. Now it’s too late.”
As if he can’t help himself, James leans down, his mouth pressing against a spot just above my breasts.
His lips brush against me and the tip of his tongue darts out, flicking against me like he’s tasting me.
“I’ve killed more than those two men…” he exhales, and goosebumps spread across my skin before his teeth nip. “I’ve killed at least five… or six…”
Oh fuck.
“What? Why?” I gasp, giving into the urge to squirm away from him.
Grabbing me firmly by the hips, James holds me in place as he begins to slide down, kissing and nipping a warm, wet path between my breasts. “Because they wanted to hurt you or put you in danger…”
Shit.
A part of me was hoping he found the warehouse and got a little revenge.
The way he’s talking though…
He’s talking like he killed just for the kicks of it.
I could still be confusing everything though. Maybe he’s totally justified.
His weight leaves my thighs, but with his grip still on my hips, I can’t move up enough to do anything about the chains and cuffs restraining me.
“Because they deserved it,” he growls as his mouth reaches my stomach.
A second later I feel his tongue dip into my belly button and get that same feeling I got when he started suckling on my ass.
The feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin.
Gritting my teeth together and straining against my restraints,
I beg, “Stop, please.”
I don’t want to know any more. If he confesses he’s killed people in cold blood and I don’t report him, he makes me an accomplice to murder.
And I’d rather not know…
I’m not a fucking priest and this isn’t a church. I don’t want to hear his confession. I can’t handle this shit.
“Because after I killed the first… after sawing into his fucking neck… it was a way to release some tension.”
Bile begins to rise in my throat at the mental image.
He sawed into someone’s neck?!
To release tension?!
Normal people would go jogging or something…
But no, he kills people.
Fuck!
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me this now?!” I cry out in a near scream.
Nearly frantic with the need to be free now, I twist from side to side and kick at his chest, trying to slip free from his hands.
Grunting when my toes connect with his hard pec, James slides his hands down and grabs me by the thighs.
Pushing my knees up toward my chest, he jerks my legs wide open.
“Because I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us, Sophia. And…”
I want to die, fucking die, when his gaze bores between my legs.
Swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down before his voice comes out raw and thick, “You have no idea what you do to me.”
He starts to lean in, and I try to snap my knees shut.
Fingers digging into the meaty flesh of my thighs, he pries me back open.
“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he growls, his eyes rolling up to glare at me before dropping back down.
Focusing on my pussy with the intensity of a madman.
Unable to close my legs, I start to tug my arms down in short, hard yanks. Hoping to break the chains or whatever they’re attached to.
He’s crazy.
I mean, I already knew he was crazy, but this shit… This is far beyond anything I could have imagined. Six men.
Six men… and sawing into necks…
Only true psychopaths do shit like that.
James leans in again.
A heartbeat later, I feel his warm breath puffing against me.
Freezing at the sensation, I groan, “Oh god.”
It shouldn’t feel good. I know it shouldn’t feel good after everything he just said.
But it does.
