Make me Yours Evermore

by Cari Silverwood

  Andreas sniffed then swiveled his stool my way. I grinned at his remorseful expression.

  “I shouldn’t stare, should I? Sorry, Kat.”

  The thoughtful look she turned on him made me get thoughtful too. “I’d prefer if you didn’t apologize to her.”

  Though he tweaked one eyebrow upward, he nodded. He reached out and touched the one of the wall rings, scratching at it with a finger. “Something red. Is this a spot of blood?”

  Jeez. Had they not cleaned up the place? I shoved over the sponge he’d used earlier and he rubbed at the metal. “Could be. Some kinksters get pretty hardcore with their play.”

  “No shit.”

  Thank goodness he couldn’t see inside my head. I’d played that hard a few times.

  Andreas wiped his hands dry.

  “What you can do, is help me feed her.”

  “You want me to feed her my corn flakes?” He coughed once. “Really? I mean…really?”

  “Yes. I’m going to get some too. We can both feed her.” I added a pre-emptive statement, figuring Kat might decide to try a hunger strike. “She’ll eat too, if she has any sense. If you’re not strong, Kat, you won’t be healthy, will you? I think even you can see the advantage of being healthy.”

  Her eventual curt nod came after a small spate of head shaking punctuated by an eye roll. I didn’t remark on it. Body language control would come eventually. She’d learn.

  By the time we were done eating, Kat had several spoonfuls of cereal and milk spilled on her outthrust breasts. She’d gasped and glared often but let us both feed her. Most of the spilled food was Andreas’s mistakes. Some of the spillages had seemed deliberate. What the fuck was that about? Although…the idea of sucking it all off her was tempting. I smiled. How that thin lace clung to her curves like plastic wrap…sticky, messy, clear plastic wrap, with two erect nipples poking out like they wanted attention. And a few corn flakes.

  Wet, suckable nipples…

  If my balls ached any more I’d need painkillers.

  “Fuck.” Andreas was checking her out too and she was looking exasperated enough at our dual male admiration to rip loose from the bindings like some female superhero. I almost groaned as she again pulled with her arms at her back, making her tits pop out more, and her belly and thigh muscles contort in that absolutely delicious female way.

  An image of Andreas up there on the counter with her shoved its way into my head – him licking milk and cereal off her tits. I elaborated, day dreaming, seeing her still bound, moaning, while he parted her thighs and drove into her.

  God. I rubbed my forehead. This kidnapping was having unforeseen results. Andreas was getting ever more involved. No wonder, when a friend hitches a ride in your car while you’re in the middle of the kidnapping.

  I’d thought about what might happen, when abducting Kat first seemed a possibility. Sometimes I wondered why I’d become so obsessed with her. Other times I dismissed such thoughts because I wasn’t sure why, except that she attracted me like no other woman. A timid, quiet, and fragile submissive meant nothing to me. Kat pulled me in like a wild lioness in the ring of the coliseum drew a gladiator.

  That day at the beach, a week ago, we’d gathered for the munch. Us kinksters had intended to have a bit of fun swimming, barbecuing, and mucking around with beach cricket, as well as introducing some newbies to the lifestyle. Kat had been determined to figure out what Klaus was up to and had wanted me to go break into his house and check out his place in a search for Stephanie.

  I’d done it for her because the whole idea fascinated me. Because Kat fascinated me. Not because I really thought she was correct, or because I thought my staid, if kinky, accountant partner had a girl stashed in his house. But she’d been right. That had floored me. I’d questioned Steph and discovered what she thought of her captors. Curiouser and curiouser, she’d protected them. Even lied a little.

  A few hours later, after leaving Steph with Klaus and Jodie, I’d known that one day I’d get Kat like Steph had been…on her knees, submitting to me as her Master.

  I’d researched it. Stockholm Syndrome, the psychology of captivity, how to break someone down until they believed anything you said, would do anything you asked. This wasn’t the same as a Dominant/submissive relationship. I needed to alter my methods.

  And here she was. Kneeling before me. Splattered with corn flakes. I almost snorted in amusement but darker thoughts hounded me.

  Now I had her on her knees, the prospect daunted me. Maybe I was crazy after all. Worse than that, Andreas was intrigued. I’d seen fairly indisputable symptoms.

  The spoon under my fingers began to bend. He was my rock steady friend. I’d never hurt him, yet here I was letting him become involved in an immoral criminal act that could see him in prison for decades.

  “Change of plan. You don’t have a week, Andreas. Four days. Then you’re going and leaving me alone with Kat.”

  Chapter 9

  Kat

  Embarrassment had reached new depths. It was one thing standing in a room naked and getting whipped by a Dom you’d selected carefully and discussed your limits with. I had control over that. But this? Kneeling on the breakfast counter with my hands behind me and basically chained to the wall while wearing a wet, milk-soaked scrap of a dress?

  I wanted to sink into the floor. Even more so since I knew having them do what they’d done – stared and treated me like a pet they had to feed, had turned me on so much I was afraid to open my legs. I could feel how slippery I was down there.

  When Andreas excused himself and wandered off down the hallway to the toilet, I relaxed somewhat. One gone. Maybe now, I’d get freed. I braced myself for the evil I had to do, begging from him… Then I raised my eyebrows, in a hopeful fashion, at Chris.

  He deadpanned back at me.

  Shit. Did I have to whine? I was not whining. But I wasn’t game to speak. Chris’s suggestion of a piñata and the crocs hearing my beating had been ominous.

  The stool scraped on the floor as he stood.

  I managed a forced smile when he came to the counter and hopped up on it, sitting next to me with his legs dangling over the edge.

  “You were very, very good,” he drawled.

  I blinked and tried to stamp down on my awareness of the difference between him, free, a dominant man and inches from me, and me tied up. It was electric. Chris was the epitome of alpha male. In the past, his pale blond man-god good looks had always steamed up my female sex goggles in milliseconds. I couldn’t help holding my breath and giving my lower lip a tug with my teeth. Pure body reaction, I reminded myself, I still hated him. I did, I did.

  His slow perusal of my breasts and the trail of milk and cornflakes down my belly made me both melt into a sizzle of goo and want to snap out something like…like, I’m not your breakfast. Noo. God no. Need a spoon? Fuck no, not that either.

  Surreptitiously, I twisted one wrist, praying it was loose.

  He spotted that movement and his mouth curved. “It’s amusing, Kat. Watching you. Watching you and knowing I can touch you without you doing anything to stop me. Knowing you’re aroused too.”

  “I’m not aroused,” I ground out. “Andreas will be back soon!” My glare would hopefully turn him to ashes.

  “You speak?” Gently he began to roll the dress up my thighs. I tensed and squeezed my thighs together. “Uh-uh. No hiding there. Open.”

  I glared some more.

  Chris moved in and nipped my nose. Shock hummed through me as his other hand wrapped around my breast, squeezing tight. Big hand, hard grip, small pains that did things to me. I squirmed on the spot.

  I hated possession like this – the casual owning of a woman bothered me, especially if it was me. But with his hand on me there, and the wrist bondage, with my arms pulled back out of the way, I had nowhere to go. Fuck. Hate you Chris.

  Yet what he did fed heat into my groin.

  “Open your eyes, Kat.”

  I snapped them open. Crap. I’
d closed them without meaning to.

  “I knew you were turned on because you’ve dripped on the counter.”

  Mild panic to mortified in one second flat. Knowing he’d seen my moisture coming from me… I stared at him. Amusement, lust, and the satisfaction of a Dom who’s hit the humiliation and torture button flickered across his face. Bastard.

  His thumb swept over my breast teasing my nipple as he added in a matter of fact way, like it was a done deal. “I’m going to make you come now, Kat. If you don’t want Andreas to see, be good. If you’re bad, I can stretch this out forever.”

  How did he guess Andreas watching would bother me?

  “Good girl.” He must have deciphered the consternation in my expression.

  I argued with myself, tensing then relaxing. My nipple, desperate thing, poked up higher and ached. Don’t tell him to fuck off, don’t…because…

  Because I wanted his hands on me. I throbbed in anticipation. Until he’d fingered me last night, no one had touched me there, skin on skin, for so long. This is just a body reaction, nothing –

  Then his hand wormed between my thighs. I gasped.

  Hand, pushing past my taut leg muscles until I had to relax. I shut my eyes. His thumb found my clit. The simple contact there made me shudder. I wanted, didn’t want, but most of all I craved.

  When his fingers traced the line of my slit and one, then two, fingertips parted my lips, I had to bite back a groan. When they forged up inside me and I could only kneel there taking it…my eyes rolled back and I arched my pelvis into the throb where his thumb perched, waiting.

  Hate and want and pain as he dug his fingers into my breast. His thumb down there stayed mostly still while he slipped those thick fingers into me, then out and in again.

  “That’s it. Show me you want it,” he murmured. “There’s no one else. Just you and me.”

  I wriggled again, trying to secretly tell his thumb to move – like it wasn’t his thumb, wasn’t him.

  He tapped his thumb once, circled my clit, once.

  I let out a soft grunt of breath.

  All of me was there, centered on the apex of my sex. Throb, throb. Him on me. The pressure, barely there, but I was so aware of it.

  I wriggled again, pushing on him. His fingers stilled while thrust high inside, and my pussy clamped in on them…me panting, waiting, fucking desperate.

  His thumb circled, once. “Say you want this, Kat,” he growled. “Say, yes.”

  I quashed my rising sense of betrayal and breathed a choked, quiet, tiny, “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  After my confession he began to pump those fingers in and out, his thumb played with my clit in earnest, just the right pressure, just the right circling touch. I strained forward and his hot mouth engulfed my nipple, sucking on me through the material.

  Unable to resist, I came.

  I rode out the orgasm silently, jerking as waves came and went, my mouth gasping and open, aware he was there, that he had done this to me, and still not being able to stop.

  When I opened my eyes, Chris lifted his head from my breast, and Andreas entered the kitchen.

  Shit.

  “What have I missed?”

  My heart thumped an insane tattoo on the inside of my chest and I felt the intimate suction as Chris extracted his fingers. An involuntary post-orgasmic shudder struck me.

  “You missed Kat having an orgasm, that’s all.” Chris let go of my breast and wiped his fingers on the bottom of my dress.

  Andreas had seen something though. I could only bear to look up at him through the veil of my hair. Was that annoyance on his face or regret? Or both? Did he regret not seeing Chris…defile me?

  That’s what it had been, surely?

  The dangling strands of my hair made it easy to pretend I was hidden from his view. I panted lightly, peering out with my head hanging low. I wasn’t sure who or what Andreas was, but protector had been high on my list. Maybe I was wrong.

  Chapter 10

  Andreas

  The little bay was deserted, as expected. Climbing over the headland rocks from the south would be a job and a half. Same for the rocks to the north. Kat and I were in a little rocky no man’s land. There weren’t enough tourists in Cow Bay to make visitors likely. Behind us, by fifty yards, was the wall enclosing the lodge – a small distance but far enough to make this seem like a different world.

  Kat’s leash wove across my palm then dripped away like a silver snake escaping. I’d sworn to Chris I’d mind her properly. He was off talking to Scrim about the recent power failures. This was the first time I’d been alone with her.

  Although the battered little jetty only ran a few yards up the beach, it went far enough into the sea to make a great place from which to fish. A few sea gulls called out indignantly at our invasion then flapped off into the blue sky. Salt air. Wind ruffling in my face. The light sun of the early morning. The timber of the jetty underfoot. I sucked in some clean breaths.

  Back there was different…dirty? Perverted. Nasty even. It didn’t seem real half the time.

  Below, the water tempted me with its clarity and coolness. I knew how it would taste in my mouth and flow crystal-cold over my skin if I dove deep. But there was fear too. The teeth never went far away. I could see red in those waves.

  Once upon a time, the sea had meant freedom to me. Now…it was a mixed bag of panic, leisure, fun, and pain. I’d long reconciled myself to never separating each of those threads from the others. The weight of the chain around my neck reminded of my vow to never let fear conquer me. I caught and held the silver-mounted shark tooth between finger and thumb, feeling its smoothness and the fine bumps on the saw edge of the tooth.

  Kat cleared her throat.

  I tugged on her leash, eyeing her and that tiny purple microkini.

  Chris had retrieved it from a cupboard stocked with what he termed BDSM role-play costumes. The top was a barely two inch satin strip. The bottoms…I swallowed at how it showed the outlines of her pussy. The cloth delved up between her lips – she had to be dying to adjust that. Flimsy as a drizzle of rain.

  If she’d had any hair left there after Chris had shaved her, I would have seen it through the cloth. That procedure had been something else.

  Watching him shave her, with Kat strapped face-up to the spanking bench, had wiped my brain. He’d strapped her ankles to her thighs and tied her down so tightly she’d only been able to squirm her ass a quarter inch sideways at most. After he’d slapped her thighs a few times she’d ceased to do even that.

  Fingers clenching. Her belly reflecting the overhead light. Her pussy lips glistening as he wiped off the last of the cream to leave her more nude than…nude.

  I focused. Ugh. Having a boner while wearing quick unzip surf shorts when the person you were dreaming of was a foot away, not good.

  Kat waited before me, hands cuffed at her front, for me to decide where we were going. Bemused, yet patient. I think she could see the wheels turning in my head.

  Her gray eyes sparked with intelligence. I tightened my hold on the silver chain.

  Through the gaps in the jetty timber, lazy waves slopped against the legs of the jetty.

  “Sit.” I pointed at the folded towel and pillow at the foot of the seat. I’d lugged this roofed bench seat out earlier. Even at eight thirty the sun heated metal. If we weren’t in the shade, as the day progressed, the petite silver cuffs and collar he’d put on her today would sizzle against her skin.

  She folded her legs and sat. Already drool wet the black rod between her teeth.

  I also sat and rested my arms on my knees. The seat creaked as the struts adjusted to my weight. It was lightweight but the fringed canvas roof extended out a fair way, front and back – enough to shade us both.

  “Hi.” I nodded slightly and she did nothing except look back at me. How was it she managed to look so defiant despite everything? Must be the eyes. A compulsion struck me, to talk with her and discuss what was happening. “I
don’t know where to start…Kat.”

  She blinked and raised an eyebrow. A pretty, well-shaped brow like the rest of her. Wasn’t I too old, and the wrong sex, for a teenage crush?

  The last two days I’d watched the dance between her and Chris. He, aiming to take control. Her, dodging it however she could. She’d even kicked his shins at one point. I’d waited for him to flog her or something but he hadn’t. Maybe he was waiting for me to leave?

  “I have to go tomorrow. I’m sorry.” I hung my head a second, and felt a need for something to occupy my hands. I opened the tackle box and began attaching a hook and sinker to the line of my fishing rod. Someone who stayed here had fished, or thought about it. My left fingers generally worked well enough for most things.

  The rod and tackle box came from the storeroom under the house. I had my camera because the view here was to die for and I always took pictures. And for bait, I had pickled worms Scrim had bought at a store in Cow Bay.

  I finished off tying the half blood knot, despite the fingers on my left hand going a little numb, and cut off the excess.

  “I’m torn. There’s the good moral me who wants to release you, rescue you. I guess you know that?” I smiled at her slight grimace around the gag. “He’s warring with the other me, the one that’s helping Chris – a man I’d die for…back against a rock while hordes of enemies shoot us chock full of bullets.” I sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.” I put aside the rod.

  Shit. One-way conversations sucked.

  And I’d lied a little. There was another me, the one that took over sometimes when I saw her and imagined getting her to do things she didn’t want to. People said money made the world go round but they were wrong. It was sex. Dirty, nasty, glorious, romantic, soul-shattering sex made the world go round. When I was near Kat, the dirty and the nasty climbed up from the dark places of my brain.

  The things that me wanted to do…to her.

  That made me so uncomfortable, because it wasn’t really me. It was some troglodyte throwback, some vestige of caveman.