by H S Russell
He just grins at me. “You didn’t mention the part about the cats. How many, Allie?”
This time, I smirk at him. “I’m allergic.” I stick my tongue out at him, and because I’m such an adult, I end with a very mature “So there.”
His eyelids droop over his eyes as he looks at the still-puckered lips of my mouth. For the first time in days, an awareness of him as a man sweeps through me. I can tell that all sorts of wicked thoughts are going through his mind as well. I’d be lying if I said those thoughts didn’t affect me.
The time we’ve spent together—which is considerable given the state of the puzzle—has helped me become comfortable around him. So much so that I don’t feel afraid or threatened by him. Instead, I feel intrigued.
As his gaze rises to meet mine, a flash of heat arcs between us. I inhale a quick breath, shocked at the intense need and want I feel toward him. Him…my captor. My kidnapper.
Swallowing, I pick up the “missing” puzzle piece by my elbow and hand it to him. “Here,” I tell him. “See if this is the one.” I try not to gulp as he stares at me before accepting the piece.
He slowly takes the piece from me and looks back down at the puzzle. Not so miraculously, the piece fits. His gaze shoots back up to mine, accusation clearly beginning to form. “How long have you had that piece?”
I play dumb. “What? I just picked it up. You saw me do it.”
Lucas narrows those suspicious hazel eyes at me. “Just how long has it been sitting there by your elbow?”
I bite my lip. “Honestly, I just picked it up.” Technically, this is not a lie.
He hmmms at me, then stands up and stretches. His shirt rises above the waist of his pants, showing off a patch of skin and muscles that are so sexy I have to cross my legs and look away.
Lucas grins as if he’s well aware that I’m thinking he’s too sexy for his shirt. Watching him head to the door, I bolt up out of my chair, already dreading the hours alone that stretch ahead of me.
“Lucas,” I call, making him stop and turn.
“Yeah?”
I lick my lips in nervousness. “I’ve been here for over two weeks. Will you let me go soon?”
The mood of the room changes. It’s as if my words have poured freezing cold water into it.
Lucas turns away from me without speaking, closing and locking the door. I guess I have my answer.
✤ ✤ ✤
It’s hours before Lucas brings dinner, which means I’m hungry, but what he’s brought for dinner makes me stop in my tracks. Lucas brought not just one tray, but two.
And he’s brought a bottle of wine.
I look at the trays he’s holding, the wine cradled under his elbow like a football, eyeing exactly what those two trays of food represent.
“I thought I’d join you tonight.” He grabs the two Solo cups off the trays and fills them with wine. “Not my finest stemware, but I feared you’d try to cut my throat with a wineglass.”
I roll my lips between my teeth to fight the smile his remark brings. He catches me at it and gives me a knowing grin. The man is far too charming for my peace of mind. Once everything is set up, I still hesitate. It seems like such an intimate thing to do, eating and sharing a bottle of wine together.
“Sit and eat, Allie,” he commands.
Despite my better judgment, I join him at the small table set up in the room. We eat in relative silence. I, for one, have no idea what to say. I shoot furtive glances at him from time to time as I eat, noting that he doesn’t look uncomfortable. But then why would he? This is his house, and he’s in complete control.
The thought makes me gulp down my wine, and before I know it, I’m two glasses in to his one. Magical elixir that it is, all of the tension between us begins to disappears. The stilted conversation eventually becomes more relaxed. Before I realize it, our food is done and he’s getting up to stack the trays and sets them outside the door. But instead of leaving, he stays in the room, leaning against the dresser. My defenses lowered from the wine, I can’t stop myself from appreciating the sinfully erotic view of his strong, tanned forearms and hands.
Lucas’s arm-porn game is strong, and I look at him, wondering what his hands would feel like on my skin.
“Allie, eyes up here, princess.”
Startled, I look up and find him smiling at me. Has a former girlfriend told him how much forearms affect women? If so, she and I need to have words. Some secrets should stay secrets. Men like Lucas already have too many advantages; they don’t need any more.
I decide to pretend he didn’t just catch me ogling him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask. I’m also pretending that I’m not the other side of tipsy.
He knowingly smirks at me again, the monster. “I asked if you wanted more wine, but I’m thinking I already know the answer.”
I look down to find my second cup—or is it my third—is indeed empty. I’m not quite sure when or how that happened. I humph, then get up to pour myself some more. Because why not. I’m in this far, I might as well go all the way.
I giggle as I hear myself think the words “go all the way” and the other connotation I could give them. The wine has dulled my brain enough that I give no thought to what I do. Heated from both the wine and Lucas’s company, I pull the sheet off me until I’m wearing only his shirt. Tripping across the room to pour myself another glass, I stand next to Lucas, joining him in leaning against the dresser. I don’t notice his expression until his silence draws my attention.
His face has changed from amusement to…aroused. He looks me up and down, slowly, and I take the second to stare at him, marveling that he can look even more handsome than before. Somehow, I don’t think it’s the wine goggles making him so.
I glare at him while I sip more of the wine I don’t need.
“You need to be careful, Allie,” he tells me, his voice deeper than just moments ago.
I roll my eyes. “I’m just…”
He doesn’t let me finish. “You’re wrong if you think you’re still safe from me just because we’ve shared a reasonably peaceful dinner. You were safe before, but you’re not so safe now.”
I should get the sheet and wrap myself up in it, but I don’t. Because liquid courage and all.
“Please,” I snort at him. “I know what I look like. Men like you don’t find women like me attractive.” But I think I pose just a little after saying that. Perhaps I’ve had too much wine.
Lucas stands a little taller, as if he doesn’t like what he’s heard. “I can’t believe after everything I’ve told you that you could actually think that. Surely I’ve made it clear how much I want you.”
I shoot him a disbelieving glare. “I’m not wrong, Lucas. I’ve lived it enough to know it’s the truth.”
He tilts his head at me. “You seriously think I wouldn’t want you?”
I twirl the cup of wine, staring into the swirling liquid. “No, I seriously don’t think you want me. You just want to manipulate me into behaving, and you use the threat of sex to do so.”
Lucas gets up and comes over to me, his eyes intent with wicked purpose.
Chapter 12
He takes the cup out of my hands and gently grasps my upper arms and walks me to the bed, pushing me down until I’m sitting. He squats down in front of me, his hands on each side of my hips. His hazel eyes glow with desire, or maybe it’s from the wine.
“So what if I do want to fuck you? Is it a threat if you want it too? Is it manipulation if we’re both needing it? I already know you’re wet, and while I’m many things, right now the only thing I am to you is a man with a hungry cock, scenting a beautiful woman with a tight cunt. Want is exactly what I feel right now, and if fucking you also makes you behave, then it’s all a win in my book.”
Heat washes through me, setting my body on fire. He must sense this because he growls and pushes me down, crawling on top of me. He uses his weight to keep me prisoner. I try to push against him, but my strength against his is laughab
le. Still I try, and my attempt causes him to lower himself onto me even more.
“You’re such a liar,” I tell him, the wine acting like a truth serum, spilling out every ugly thought I’ve ever had about myself. “I know what I look like. Men just lie to get women like me to fall for them.”
“I don’t give a fuck how you think you look. I think you’re a beautiful woman. A woman I’d die to see spreading her legs for me.” He bends his head until our lips are touching. “A woman who knows how to let a man like me have some fun with her sweet pussy…”
I gasp at his filthy words, the sound making him grin. His wicked lips whisper down my cheek until they’re pressed against my ear. “You can look outraged all you want, but we both know you liked what I said.” His voice is soft, seductive. “I can smell you, Allie. I can smell your fear, but I can also smell that pussy getting wet for me. It likes what I’m saying whether you admit it or not. And right now, I don’t care if you’re offended. All I care about is finding out just how right I am, and how sweet you taste.”
I wilt into the bed as his mouth takes mine in a hard, brutal kiss. I’ve never been kissed like this before, with so much passion and heat and want. I lose myself in the sensations as I wrap my arms around those shoulders I’ve been in lust with since the first day.
I feel his hand sliding up my plump, bare leg, and I try to wrap it around his hip. He denies me, scooting his body over and off mine, making me reach to pull him back. He leans down to bite my neck, grunting at my whimper, his actions telling me to hold still so he can play.
He’s the one in control, not me.
His hand glides from my thigh up until it lands on my breasts, moving from one to the other. He squeezes and fondles me, pinching at my nipples, playing with me until I’m gasping at his touch. All the while, he forces me to look at him. He bites his bottom lip as his hand moves from my breast to my belly and then stops. “Do you like to be teased? I bet you do.”
He swoops down to swallow any words I might have said in response, his mouth ravaging me once again until I melt into wilted submission. Once I’m compliant, he looks down so he can watch his hand slide down to cup me between my legs. Then he stops as his fingers lie there without moving.
“You knew I was going to make this mine,” he tells me, kissing my lips softly with his words. “I’m going to take it every way a man can take a pussy. I’m going to own every drop of come that drips out of you.”
I whimper at his words—so hot, so wrong—and this time he lets me reach for him, pulling him down for another kiss. Two of his fingers part my lower lips and slide up and down my slit, spreading me out until they find my embarrassing amount of desire pooled between my legs.
He moans into my mouth, then pulls away, gasping. Where before he was almost playful, now he is intense and wholly aroused. He looks down to where his hand is working me. “Fucking hell, you’re so wet for me…” He uses the wetness to stroke my clit, making me moan at the delicious, slippery sensations. Then he slides two fingers inside of me as I spread my legs wider, wanting him deeper. Harder. Wanting…more.
“You feel like heaven,” he whispers, his eyes still focused on his hand moving between my parted legs. “I knew you would.”
His fingers begin to alternate between my clit and my hole, playing me, teasing me on both ends. The sounds of his wet fingers make lewd noises that fill the room. I know I should be embarrassed, but the filthy sounds only make me wetter.
He looks up to watch my face while his wicked fingers play. A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Dirty girl, you’ve been dying for this, haven’t you.” It’s not a question, and even if it was, we both know the answer.
I start to rock against him, begging his fingers to move more insistently inside me. “You’ve got a sweet little cunt, Allie. It’s going to be like heaven when I slide my cock inside of it.”
I huff out a moan at his words, shocked quite literally to my core at what they do to me. He feels it and laughs. His fingers curl inside of me, working against my G-spot, making me gasp and strain toward him even harder.
Just as I do, he pulls his hand away from me, watching my face.
“No!” I cry out, reaching for him to come back.
A corner of his mouth tips upward as he narrows his eyes at me. “You want this, don’t you, greedy girl. If you want me to keep going, you have to give me your permission. You’ve had a little too much wine. I need to be sure you understand what’s about to happen here.”
I don’t care if it’s wrong and that he’s my captor. I don’t care that this is something I swore I wouldn’t let happen. I don’t even care if I’m begging. I need him to not stop what he’s doing. Without even a second of hesitation, I whimper out a plea. “Please, Lucas, please keep touching me.”
Whatever I say works. He puts his hand back down between my legs as his mouth captures mine in another possessive, demanding kiss. There is no pretense here; there is only his demand that I give him what he wants. And what he wants is me.
His fingers go back to where they were before, curling and stroking inside of me. He pulls away from my mouth at times so he can encourage me with dark, filthy words that put erotic images in my head. He goes back and forth between tender kisses and biting nips, all while his wet thumb works my clit until I’m shaking from pleasure and need.
“That’s it, little girl, get all nice and tight on me, squeeze that pussy around my fingers,” he murmurs in that dark, husky voice.
His thumb presses even harder into my clit, his fingertips pressing into my spot, and I cry out as I clench around him and start to implode. My pussy contracts in mind-numbing pulses, and then the pleasure bursts outward in sharp, long waves. My slippery walls throb and grasp at his fingers, tugging at them as if they’re asking him to give me more.
I gasp out huge breaths as I get lost in the smaller sensations rippling through me. Long moments pass as I slowly become aware of Lucas’s words of encouragement and praise. He kisses me gently while he works me down from the orgasm, then pulls his fingers out, dragging them against the insides of my thighs, marking me with my own scent. His eyes hold mine as he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks off my taste. He moans and closes his eyes when he sucks them into his mouth.
When his eyes open, they’re hot and heavy with need. But instead of taking me as I expect him to, he leans over to kiss me, sharing my taste on his tongue. It’s a deep, passion-filled kiss until he pulls completely away.
“You think about how much I want you,” he says, his palm pushing down hard on his erection. “You think of how hard I am, and know that I’m denying myself because you’ve had a little too much wine, but also because you don’t believe I really want you. I can get pussy all day long, Allie, but I don’t want them. I want you. There’s a big difference between taking any warm hole that offers itself versus wanting a specific woman in my bed. Only you can relieve this ache I have.” He backs away, his gaze still locked on mine. “You think about that tonight while you’re reliving how I made you feel.”
I watch him leave, my heart beating so fiercely I can feel it between my legs. Even though I ache with wanting him, I don’t try to make him to stay.
Chapter 13
Allie
The next morning, despite my orgasm and wine hangover, I jump out of bed the moment I wake up, not wanting to get caught still in it. I have no idea what to expect from Lucas. Will he smirk at me with that knowing guy look, one that says he’s still very pleased with himself for having gotten me on my back? Or will he try to start round two, hoping I’ll let him get even further with me?
If I hide in the bathroom when he brings my breakfast, will he take my absence for the hint that it is, and leave me alone? Or would he barge in, demanding that I face him? During our few interactions so far, he’s rarely allowed me to back down. Instead, he makes me face him and whatever issue we’re discussing.
In another world, that would be an excellent trait for him to have, if he were, say, a b
oyfriend or a significant other or a…something that begins with the letter h.
In the end, I had nothing to worry about. Lucas was back to way he was before, seeming to gloss over what happened as the anomaly it was. Before I realize it, we’re back to being us again.
✤ ✤ ✤
One week later, I come to a horrible conclusion.
The longer I stay here with Lucas, the more I find myself liking him as a man, as a friend, and possibly more. All the time we’ve spent together has made me more and more comfortable. Comfortable to enjoy his company and, perhaps more importantly, comfortable enough to be myself. My true self…my old self.
I’ve realized over the last day or so that I feel like the old me…the me before my parents’ accident. It’s as if I’ve been in a cocoon for all these years since their deaths, and now, for some unknown reason, I’m shedding that protective shell I’d wrapped myself in. I’m emerging as not just the girl I used to be, but the grown-up version of her. I’m becoming the woman I was always meant to be, and not that lonely, sad shadow-self version of myself.
And it’s Lucas who’s brought her out of me. Or maybe it’s just this situation? I don’t know. I can’t tell. I’m not sure I may ever be able to tell. All I do know is that something inside of me is blooming. I feel as if I’m seeing an old friend after they’ve come home from a long trip. And it’s Lucas who’s brought her here.
But it’s also Lucas who’s holding me captive. All of my survival hinges on him, and him alone.
Which means I’ve crossed a dangerous line. Have I become a victim of Stockholm syndrome, or am I truly falling for him?
Better yet, how will I ever know?
There’s only one way to know, and it’s what should have been my focus all along.
I have to leave here. It’s obvious he’s not going to let me go anytime soon, so I’m going to have to figure out a way to get myself out of here. I have to leave here and get away from him, far away from him, and start living my own life once again. Only then will I know if what I’m feeling is real or just a stupid plot technique in a bad Hollywood movie. Or worse, a bad romance novel.
