Stealing Allie

by H S Russell

  “Get off of me,” she demands. She pushes her body up with her arms up. I sit on my knees and grab her hips to keep myself buried in her. I’m not leaving this pussy. She thinks she can intimidate me by getting in my face? Oh baby, you don’t even know who you’re trying to play here.

  “Get off you? Oh, princess. How about I get off in you and give you another load instead.”

  She gasps, whether in excitement or shock I don’t know. And I don’t care.

  I pull her to me and stand up. Gravity pulls her down until I’m bottoming out in her in a way I never have before. She throws her head back and gasps at the sensation. I know I’m rubbing against the highest spot, pressing into it harder than I have before. This is right where she needs me the most.

  “There it is,” I murmur, smiling at what’s about to come. How hard she’s about to come.

  She tries to get off me, tries to get down, her arms pushing my shoulders and chest, but it’s useless. I laugh as I walk, her legs around my hips. My balls tighten into hard spheres as I walk halfway down the hallway before pushing her into the wall. She tries to lift up to escape. Instead, I lift her legs with my arms and start grinding into her.

  Her eyes roll back in her head.

  “There’s the spot I haven’t hit enough of yet. Let’s go baby. Let’s go drilling for oil with this one. Yeah?”

  “Noooo,” she gasps, but her eyes are closed again and her face is scrunched up as she feels the painful pleasure of me bottoming out at her cervix.

  “I can feel you, Allie. My cock can feel that spot that’s begging for me to rub it, to give it some relief. Just stay still and let me do all the work. You deserve this.”

  I thrust and gyrate without drawing out. I stay seated inside of her and push my hips in and up, letting the movements rub her in the exact right place. Her pussy is gushing now; her come is running down her crack. My balls slap against it, making that deliciously crude sound. The sound of fucking.

  She lets out a moan as her head thumps against the wall.

  “That’s the one that scares you it’s so good, isn’t it.” Her hands dig into my arms as she goes out of her mind from the pleasure. She gets tighter and wetter, so I keep grinding. Little pants of air gust out of her mouth; they soon turn into whimpers of denial, of fear. Her legs start shaking and pushing against me, trying to get away. I push right back, harder and deeper.

  “Nononono,” she cants. “I can’t, Lucas. I can’t.” She opens her eyes, pleading with me to stop. “It’s too big. I feel like I’ll die from it.” She has tears in her eyes as she’s begging me to stop. Her mind is telling her it’s too much, that her body can’t handle it, but oh fuck, I know she can, and I can’t wait to see it.

  “I’ve got you, Allie. Close your eyes. This is it, baby, that’s it.”

  I keep pumping as her pussy becomes so tight, it barely lets me in. I circle and push, circle and push and then suddenly she breaks wide open, bursting like a supernova, exploding into giant rays of energy. Becoming giant rays of energy.

  Her mouth is open, but there’s no sound escaping because she can’t fucking breathe. Her eyes roll back into her head, and her nails scratch and dig into my arms, mindless of what they’re doing. She grinds down on me, needing my cock to keep rubbing that spot, and I swear I can feel the deep, hard pulsing of her cervix and uterus as they give way to the intense pleasure. Then it’s like a fire sweeping down her pussy, until every inch of her pussy is throbbing and squeezing, contracting around me in tight punches that fist right onto my cock.

  She does quit breathing, but only for seconds. Then she gasps, taking in huge lungfuls of air. She’s so beautiful to watch, and I don’t miss any of it. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get to see this again, so I want to remember it all.

  While she’s leveling out, I pound into her quietly, like I’m sneaking this fuck in, hoping she won’t notice I’m still working her. My thrusts bring some residual pulses back inside of her, and she moans at the heightened sensitivity. Then she’s rubbing and thrusting into me as she comes for the fourth time. This time she takes me with her as I give over to the pleasure. I feel my come coat her pussy, and I revel in it. Feed on it despite knowing she’ll hate me later.

  I press my head into her neck, breathing her in. My hands move to her waist, her hips, her ribs. They span her so easily, and god, she feels like a girl and goddammit there’s nothing so good as the feel of a girl.

  “You okay?” I ask her, gentler now that the worst is over.

  She take deep breaths but is able to find her voice. She looks at me, incredulous that I’d ask such a mundane question after this monumentally fucked-up thing we just did.

  “Fuck you, Lucas,” she spits.

  I respond with angry laughter at her choice of curses.

  “Oh you will, Allie. You fucking will.”

  Chapter 38

  Allie

  He lied. He lied about everything…this whole time. Lied to get me to trust him. To believe he cared for me. When force and threats didn’t work those first few days, he switched tactics and hit me where I was most vulnerable. My loneliness. He’d even begun to hint at a future. Hinting that we were going to be more than just captor and captive. And I fell for it. For him. Even though I knew he would try anything to manipulate me, I still believed every word. Every lie.

  I am a fool to think he really wanted me. A fool.

  I look at the bindings on my hands and trace the length that leads from me to him. An umbilical cord made with soft rope and tied off with lies. I’m tethered to him so I don’t run away while he sleeps. He sleeps…only a soul without a conscience could sleep after this.

  I scoot as far away from him as the bindings allow and turn away. I don’t want to look at his beautiful, horrible face. I don’t want to feel the radiant warmth of his big body against the coldness that permeates my skin. I don’t want to count his breaths or watch the rhythmic pulsebeat at his neck.

  He won’t be here much longer now that he has his money back. He’ll leave and I’ll get on with my life without having to look over my shoulder. This time, things are truly over between us.

  I should be happy. I should be relieved…but I’m not.

  ✤ ✤ ✤

  I wake up to the touch of his hand caressing my skin. That touch…my body responds like it’s still gripped with a voracious need. A need he created by denying me for so long.

  I try to ignore the ache and scoot away, but he pulls me closer—closer until I feel his cock throb as if it senses a warm hole is near.

  He made me sleep naked, so there’s nothing to protect me from his wandering hand. He places whispery, gentle kisses on my shoulders and my neck. I stay still, hoping he’ll leave me alone. But no, of course he won’t. Lucas will never leave me alone, even when he’s crushed me into a million pieces.

  He cups me between my legs, and then his fingers dive down and in. He groans as he finds what he’s looking for. I’m ashamed at how wet I am even knowing it’s his fault. And that it’s biology. He makes me want him—again.

  “Oh baby,” he whispers, “your pretty pussy still needs some of my cock… Hold your ass still and let me give you what you need.”

  He holds on to my hips so I can’t move—not that I try to—and wastes no time getting into a position that lets him glide into me. I turn my head into the pillow to muffle my whimpers of pleasure. I don’t want him to know how good he feels. I don’t want him to know how much I love having him there.

  He keeps a hand between my legs, rubbing and circling my clit with deft purpose. My fingers clutch at the sheets as the silky pleasure begins to climb. My hips push back against his, wanting, needing more.

  “That’s my girl. Take what you need, princess.”

  And so I do. I stick my ass out so he can go harder and deeper while I push into and squeeze around him. I moan into the pillow until the orgasm screams through me, fast and deep and so, so hard… It is shockingly hard even after coming almost half a
dozen times the night before.

  Lucas thrusts a few more times until he’s throbbing inside of me. We lie quietly, back to front, as we each catch our breath.

  Then he slaps my hip. “That was hot,” he says. “We needed that.”

  When he leaves me and heads to the bathroom, I feel his come leak out of me. A wash of shame and self-disgust sizzle my skin. How can I have enjoyed this after everything he’s done?

  Lucas is handsome enough and charming enough to have any woman he wants. He’s the kind of man who likes sophisticated, polished women. Women who are born knowing how to handle men. Women who understand how to use and be used by men. Those are the women in his world. Those are the women he calls goddesses.

  I’m nothing like the women that inhabit his world. He never would have looked at me twice. I’m not a goddess to him. I’m a toy. A fuck toy.

  Lucas

  She’s barely spoken all day. She’s retreated into nothingness; I can feel her shutting down. Just like the time at my house after she’d watched the delivery van drive away. She won’t look at me, she won’t speak to me. There’s no animation in her face; no anger, no spunk, no nothing.

  Me? I’m feeling pretty good. Getting the money back is a huge win. I don’t gloat—I couldn’t do that to her—but she probably senses how I feel. It must feel like a loss to her, and a big one.

  Now that I have the money back, I need to think about leaving.

  And that’s where my good feelings slam into the hard ground. I can’t seem to make myself go. In fact, I’m not leaving. She’s in shock right now. She needs me. I can’t leave her like this, even if I’m the one that did this. I need to stay so I can show her how I used those words to make her give up the money. That the truth is that I’ve fallen in love with her. And once we’re back on the same page, I’ll wake her up every morning like I did this morning, only then she won’t need the pillow to cover her screams.

  Maybe I need to seriously consider leaving but taking her with me. She won’t want to, but it’s never stopped me before. Because really, whether she knows it or not, she’s going to end up at my house eventually. Because I can’t live without her. I won’t. She’s my whole world now, my everything. And once she feels better, I’ll prove it.

  Allie

  I wake up hating him.

  The other morning I was in love with him. Now, I hate him. What a difference a few days makes.

  It’s been a few days since the “incident” and I thought he’d be gone by now, but he’s not. We haven’t spoken to each other. What would we say? I don’t know why he’s still here. To torture me, probably. Torture me with what could have been. Torture me with the trappings of false love.

  It wasn’t love; it couldn’t have been. And even if it was, love means nothing when there’s only lies between us. I’d thought for just a while that there was a chance, but of course there wasn’t one. What we have is hot sex and manipulation and revenge. That’s it.

  Later in the afternoon, after he once again makes my body explode, I know I can’t do this any longer. If he won’t leave, I will. Again.

  When Lucas goes into the shower, I pack a bag and wait by the front door. I make sure it’s unlocked this time so that I can get away. While I wait for him to get done, I look around the room that used to be my home. It’s not that anymore. There are too many memories of him…of us.

  I hear the shower cut off, knowing that this is it. I’ll say goodbye, I’ll walk out the door, and I’ll leave and never see him again.

  I bite my cheeks to stop the tears.

  Lucas

  The hot spray of the water feels good against the knots in my muscles. Knots that are there because this thing with Allie is so tense it’s killing me. She still isn’t speaking to me, even though days have gone by since that night. She’s not asking me to leave; she’s even allowed me to make love to her a few times. Although that’s not really what it is since she won’t let me kiss or caress her the way I want to. It’s more like performing a necessary biological function. She has a biological itch she can’t reach, and I have the necessary parts to scratch it.

  I’ve tried to give her some space, but that’s not working. If anything, it’s driven her even further away. So, no more being nice and apologetic. Allie always responded to my being hard on her. She always fought back, and that’s what I need her to do now. I need to put my foot down on this behavior and put her back in her place. Which is in my bed, in my home. Our home.

  I’m going to have to kidnap her again.

  I begin to hurry through the rest of the shower, ready to get out and begin our next battle. It’s going to be so fun to watch her resist me and then come alive again. It was the last time, and I can’t imagine this time will be any different. I do a cursory drying off, then head out to talk to her.

  Something catches my eye as I cross the hallway from the bathroom to the bedroom, and I turn to find Allie at the front door. She has a satchel at her feet and another bag on her shoulder.

  Goddammit, no…

  “Allie,” I say, my panic rising as I take in what that backpack means. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “You have your money and you’ve had your pound of flesh, Lucas,” she says with those dead eyes and even more dead voice. “This is over. We’re even, so I’m leaving.”

  The panic becomes anger. “Fuck no this isn’t over.” I storm toward her, but she holds up a palm and I stop.

  Finally, Allie shows some of the spirit she’d lost the last few days. “Oh fuck yes! It is so over. I’m done here, Lucas, done!” I’m so grateful to see her like this, I don’t care that she’s angry. I can work with angry. But what I can’t work with is her opening the door to leave while I’m standing here in a fucking towel.

  “Allie,” I warn her, but she looks over her shoulder at me.

  “Have a nice life, Lucas,” she croaks, her tone saying the exact opposite. “Enjoy your money.” Then she huffs out a bitter laugh. “And fuck off.”

  The door slams shut, and she’s gone.

  “Allie!” I shout, heading to the door before remembering I need clothes. I throw on the first pair of pants I can find, then hop into my running shoes that were—thank god—by the door. It takes me less than sixty seconds to get dressed, which means she didn’t get far.

  I race down the stairs, then burst out of the building and onto the stoop. I stop and frantically look out over the sidewalks. Then for some reason, the sound of a car door catches my attention. I look around to find where it came from, and there she is, looking at me from inside of a car.

  Allie has a fucking car.

  How did we not know this?

  I stare at her—dumbfounded—as she pulls out of the parking spot. She gives me a piercing look while tears roll down her cheeks, then drives away.

  Chapter 39

  One Month Gone

  Allie

  I miss him. I miss him every minute of every day. I’d thought that leaving him would make me feel better. That I’d feel relieved this was finally over, that my anger would carry me through any residual love or sentimental emotions. But I’m not relieved. What I am is lonely. And hurt.

  Being back feels strange. I’m in my old apartment, but it feels so odd. When I first walked into it after being gone for so long, I walked around, looking at all of my stuff, touching things that used to mean so much to me as if they were things I’d never seen before.

  Did this really used to be my life? It doesn’t feel like it.

  It was the pictures of my parents that broke me. I held my favorite picture of them and cried out my anguish and regrets, mourning them and Lucas at the same time. Mourning what could have been.

  Once I calmed down enough to function, I settled in. I called my old boss and talked to him at length. I knew he’d be pissed at me quitting the way I did—he was—but he valued my knowledge and work ethic enough to get me rehired.

  It’s a different position and in a different location…and it’s just as
exciting as the last job. Which means it’s not exciting at all. The one good thing is that I don’t have to make site calls any longer. Honestly, if the job had entailed site calls, I’d have never taken the job. No more hard hats and steel-toed shoes for me. I get to keep my pretty hair and, this time around, wear pretty shoes.

  Life has basically picked up right where I left it. Which is to say that I hate it. I’m still the new me, but I don’t feel like her. I feel like the old me again, the shadow-me. I go to the gym every day after work—that part does feel good—but everything else feels wrong. It’s like there’s no color in my world, no vibrancy, no…life.

  I remember feeling so free after I’d run. I’d loved my life then. I’d loved starting over. I’d felt like I’d thrown off every shackle that ever held me down and walked around with a sense of freedom and excitement that carried me through the whole nine months I was there. I was carefree and unfettered, and life was one huge, wonderful opportunity.

  I was the Allie from before my parents died. I was that girl who was untroubled, whole, optimistic…loved. Wanted. And I’d felt all of that despite knowing that Lucas was probably coming for me.

  But maybe that’s it, that’s the difference…the piece that I’m missing.

  Back then, I knew Lucas was coming for me. I knew that he would fight with me, and maybe for me. I knew he was coming. This time, I know he’s not.

  Lucas

  I stare at her pictures that Bean had taken like a lovesick fool. I’m back at home, and it feels lonely and stark without Allie. The guys are treating me with kid gloves, which is saying something for them since they’re not the kid-gloves kind of people. It’s just one more thing that’s pissing me off.

  They know that something is off with me. Different. I talked to José before returning, filling him in on only the barest of details. But he knew. He’s intuitive enough to have filled in the blanks. He probably talked to Bean and Adam and told them to pretend like the last year never happened. That there is nobody named Allie, or Amy.