Taken With The Enemy

by Tia Fanning

  My cheeks burned. Though his tone was light with humor, his playful comment still made me feel guilty, like I had betrayed his trust in some way.

  "It wasn't like that,” I explained softly as we moved into the elevator.

  He pressed the second floor button and the doors slid closed. “What was it like?"

  "The patient didn't share anything important. And I didn't ask him anything once I realized—"

  My captor suddenly hit the emergency stop button.

  Twisting me around, he forced me backward while simultaneously seizing my wrists and crossing them over my head. I gasped as his hot body trapped me against the cold elevator wall.

  He looked down at me, searching my eyes. “But you let him keep talking, yes?"

  I nodded reluctantly.

  He seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Exactly how bad do you feel for your part in the leak?"

  "Very,” I admitted.

  Keeping one hand up to pin me in place, his other hand lightly, and ever so slowly, roamed down my inner arm. The feather gentle caress, in contrast to the dominant hold he exerted over me, wreaked havoc on my body. Warmth pooled in my panties.

  "I'm not upset with you, Brenna."

  His fingers then trailed across my collarbone and chest, drawing out a shuddered sigh. My mind, heart, and soul yielded to the simple yet commanding contact.

  "I know. But I still feel bad.” Or good, as long as you keep touching me this way.

  "Do you now?” A small smile formed on his lips. “You don't seem very remorseful at the moment."

  "Oh, I am,” I breathed.

  "Show me how much."

  Pasting on my most innocent ‘I'm sorry, I was a naughty girl’ expression, I bit my bottom lip and lowered my eyes. I arched my back, pressing my hips against his groin, conveying my desire to please him.

  "And what punishment do you think you deserve for your misdeeds?” he asked.

  A thousand and one things popped into my head, and all of them involved surrendering to my secret submissive fantasies. “Whatever you think is appropriate to correct my bad behavior."

  "You're too good at that.” He removed his hand and restarted the elevator.

  "May I ask where we're going?” I whispered.

  The doors slid open.

  "My flat.” He took my hand and led me out, tugging me down the corridor.

  We got to the door and entered his apartment, which looked similar to my own. My captor steered me straight to his bedroom. Though sparsely decorated, it was clean, neat, and smelled of him.

  Stopping before the bathroom door, he lifted my shirt, pulled it over my head and threw it on the ground. Like a child who could not undress on her own, he nudged me around and unbuckled my bra, pulling it off my arms and tossing it aside. He then turned me back and lowered my pants and underwear over my hips and down my legs. Much to my body's dismay, his hands did not linger in any one place. He went about his task as if it was household chore.

  I stepped out of the pool of clothing, slipping my sandals off my feet as I did so.

  "Shower,” he ordered, smacking my bare ass as he nudged me toward the bathroom. “You have two minutes. Any longer and there'll be consequences."

  The warning heightened my excitement.

  Counting the time it took me to turn on the water and get into the stall, I washed and rinsed in about one and half minutes, give or take ten seconds. If basic training had taught me anything, it was how to bathe quickly.

  However, I didn't get out when I was through. I just stood there and let the hot water continue to run over me.

  Around the three minute mark, I heard the shrill noise of a drill boring into the wall. Then there was some banging.

  Another two minutes passed.

  More drilling. Closer this time. In the bedroom. Then what sounded like a ratchet.

  Curious, I turned off the water, quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it under my arms.

  I ventured out of the bathroom.

  He moved so fast.

  One moment, I was facing out into the bedroom, the next I was gazing at a wall. My hands were once again above my head, but this time, my wrists were bound together by plasticuffs, which in turn were linked via another zip-strip onto a heavy-duty D-ring. The ring, attached to the wall by four large screws, was positioned high enough that, if I didn't want my wrists to bear my weight, I had to choose between either arching my back and stretching up as if I was reaching for something sitting high on a shelf, or standing on my tippy-toes.

  I had been disarmed of my towel, as well.

  A chair slid across the floor, coming to a stop a few feet behind me.

  Silence.

  I looked over my shoulder to see my captor straddling it, still fully clothed, contemplating me. When he didn't say anything, I turned back to the wall, unable to keep my neck craned at such an odd angle.

  Water dripped from my hair, trailed over my torso and down my legs, forming a puddle at my feet. Though my body warmed in anticipation of things to come, goose bumps formed on my skin and my nipples hardened as the heat from the shower quickly faded in the cool air-conditioned room.

  The contrast between hot and cold, my anxious excitement at being in such a vulnerable position, and knowing that he was staring so intently at my naked body, put me in a state of heightened arousal. My inner core throbbed, demanding some kind of contact to fill the empty ache.

  "You have a beautiful body,” he commented.

  His words near undid me. I couldn't wait. It was torture.

  I pulled at the restraints.

  "Don't,” he warned.

  "How long do I have to stay like this?"

  "Four minutes. But you only have two and half left."

  "Why four minutes."

  "Because that is how many minutes you went over when you stayed in the shower."

  "I'm sorry,” I whispered.

  "No, you're not. And this is your punishment for your willful disrespect.” I heard him approach. “You should take this time to think about the consequences of your actions...” he breathed into my ear. “And think about what you're going to do to make amends."

  Ah! If he'd just let me go, I could make amends. All sorts of amends. I was so fucking horny.

  He leaned against the wall and glanced at his watch. “Two minutes."

  "You're cruel,” I groaned, opening and closing my fists. “How could you do this to me?"

  Squinting, he looked at my wrists. “Are you in pain?"

  I nodded. “Yes."

  He came up behind me and slid his hands up my arms and tugged at the straps. The fabric of his shirt caressed my sensitized skin, sending chills up my body. His scent teased me. I inhaled deeply and leaned back into him.

  "Better?"

  "No."

  "The straps are placed correctly. Are you really in pain?"

  The humming reverberation from his chest added to my already agonizing arousal. “Yes,” I whined.

  "Where?"

  "Lower."

  His hand moved to my shoulders and rubbed them.

  "No, lower."

  "Tell me when I get there.” His fingers trailed gently over my ribcage, then over my hips, then down to the outside of my thighs.

  "You've past it. Go back up and in."

  Starting back at my waist, he glided up to my diaphragm, brushing against the lower half of my breasts.

  I shuddered. “Down."

  He slowly skimmed past my belly button, but hesitated at my pelvic bone.

  "Lower,” I urged.

  "Pain you say?” he asked, laying kisses on my shoulder.

  "Yes. It hurts. Please make it go away. You don't want me suffering, do you?"

  He chuckled. “No, I don't want you to suffer."

  As one hand went up and cupped my breast, teasing and rolling the nipple, the fingers on his other hand parted my folds and circled my clit.

  My body instantly responded, but it was not enough. I hovered on the edge, but noth
ing more.

  "Please,” I gasped, trying to maneuver into a more advantageous position. “Have you no heart?"

  "I do.” He delved into my slick hole, stretching and filling me. Then he froze. He didn't move an inch.

  AHHHH! “Don't friggin stop! Move, damn it!"

  The hand he was using to play with my breast abruptly tangled itself into the hair at the base of my neck. He tugged my head back, commanding my attention. My gaze found his. I wanted to dive in those dark and intense eyes and lose myself.

  "As I was saying, I do have a heart, but you are in no position to make demands. You ask, not order. As punishment for yet another offense, you will have to do better at begging me for what you want. Only then will I be moved enough to accommodate you."

  The reprimand alone did it.

  I was going to come.

  "Control your body, Brenna,” he growled, tightening his grasp on my hair.

  Unfortunately, rather than halting the imminent climax, the pain only increased my pleasure and I cried out, spiraling into an orgasm.

  Suddenly, I was released from the wall and flung over his lap. He brought his free hand down on my ass.

  "You are a bad-"smack, “bad—” smack, “-girl...” smack.

  Rather than coming down off the wave of pleasure I was riding, I started the climb all over again. I moaned as another orgasm began to take hold.

  "Don't even think about coming. Do you understand me?” Then, as if to torment me more, he thrust his fingers deep into my tightening hole, plunging in and out as his thumb worked over my swollen clit. “You ask me first. You beg for it."

  "Pleas—” Before I could finish my plea, his ministrations set me off and I climaxed again, this one more powerful than the first.

  That slip-up earned another series of spankings.

  When he was done, he abruptly rose to his feet and tossed me stomach first onto the bed.

  "Good girls know how to hold their cum,” he scolded as he ripped off his shirt and began unbuckling his pants. “They don't enjoy their punishment."

  He grabbed my ankle and dragged me back, then took a hold of my hips and lifted my ass high. He pushed his hard cock deep inside my dripping pussy.

  As he worked me, I shoved hard against his groin and took as much of him in as my body would allow. My body tensed, ready to succumb to the pleasure.

  "Don't you dare."

  Fuck! I held it.

  "Why don't you want to be a good girl?” he asked, pounding hard into me from behind, his balls slamming against my sensitized clit.

  "I—I do. Please."

  "You're lying."

  "No, I'm not,” I panted. “I can be good."

  He smacked my ass and rode me even harder.

  My body shook uncontrollably, demanding for me to let go. “Please!"

  I was going to die if I didn't come. It almost hurt to hold it back. But I didn't want to disappoint him. I didn't want to disappoint myself. I could wait.

  "Are you sorry for all you've done today?” he asked and spanked me again. “For being devious, for implying that I wasn't nice enough to you, and for not following any of my instructions?

  I wrapped my fists around the covers as raw pleasure battered me. I screamed in frustration and even started to cry, but I didn't release.

  "Yes ... Please..."

  "Please what?"

  "Please just let me come.” I sobbed. “I'm begging you. I can't handle this much longer."

  "Take your pleasure, Brenna."

  The assailing orgasm was unlike anything I'd ever experienced in my life. Powerful waves consumed me in a boundless torrent of ecstasy. It was too much to bear. The infinite intensity of it shattered the tiny bit of sanity I had left.

  Still trembling from the residual ripples, I collapsed in utter exhaustion and immediately broke into a flood of tears. “I—never...” I choked out. “It was—that was awesome."

  He lay down beside me and drew me into his arms, offering soothing words as he stroked my hair.

  I slowly relaxed, lulled by his gentle caress and comforting scent. I wanted to shut my eyes, but I willed myself to not to. I couldn't risk dozing off.

  "Sleep for me,” he whispered.

  I yawned at the suggestion. “I can't. I have responsibilities, like my patient.

  "You need to rest. We can take care of your patient until you wake up."

  Perhaps just a short power nap.

  I snuggled closer to his warmth and let my heavy eyelids drift close. “Okay, but only for twenty minutes."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My eyes popped open and I shot up.

  It was dark.

  I looked at the digital clock in irritation. Twenty minutes had turned into four hours.

  Damn him.

  The bathroom door was open and the light on, but I was alone. In the soft glow of the makeshift nightlight, I saw the note beside me, lying upon folded clothing. Picking up the white paper, I rolled my eyes.

  "Let me guess,” I muttered to myself. “Handwriting can be used to identify someone."

  Jesus, these people were paranoid.

  I knew every mark on my captor's sculpted body, every twitch and reaction to my touch, but I wasn't allowed to see his handwriting.

  Oh well, at least it was typed out in English this time.

  Had to go out for a bit. Essentials in the bathroom, food in the fridge. Relax and watch TV—better idea, stay in bed. Will be back soon.

  Was this his way of asking me to spend the night?

  How presumptuously sweet.

  But as much as I wanted to, I couldn't abandon my patient more than I already had.

  I grabbed my clean clothes—which I found were only pajamas and undergarments—and went into the bathroom. Hell, he'd even brought my little overnight bag filled with all the things a girl needs. Complete with a new red toothbrush.

  After taking a short shower, which unfortunately washed away the evidence of our stolen passion, I dressed quickly and was out the front door in minutes.

  Unlike my corridor, the hallway on this floor was dimly lit. It felt weird to be wandering around the building alone in my PJs. I hated the eerie quiet that seemed to perpetually hang over the place. It was unnerving. I almost expected that at any moment, someone would jump out at me wielding an axe, like in a bad slasher movie.

  Relieved to reach the elevator with my head still attached to my shoulders, I descended to the first floor and made my way to my own flat. Opening the front door, I quietly slipped in, not wanting to disturb my patient if he was sleeping.

  "...only four days to prepare,” said the unfamiliar voice.

  My steps faltered as I approached the spare bedroom/makeshift infirmary.

  "Are there any other residents besides the doctor and the prisoner?” I heard my patient ask.

  "No. The evacuation should go smoothly."

  Not one to eavesdrop, I didn't delay in making my presence known. I appeared in the doorway and gently knocked. “Sorry to interrupt. I'm just here to check on you."

  My patient and escort glanced up, then both leaned over a little as if looking behind me.

  I turned around, but no one was there.

  Confused, I shrugged. “What?"

  Silence.

  Sighing, I moved in and went to the sanitizing pump to disinfect my hands. “How are you feeling?"

  My patient nodded.

  "Have you eaten yet?"

  He nodded again.

  "Was it something light? Like soup and toast?"

  Another nod.

  "Good."

  He pointed to the IV in his hand.

  I went over to his side. “You want me to remove it?"

  He smiled, his expression one of hope.

  Scrunching my nose, I made a non-committal sound.

  He then gave me a couple of imploring ‘pretty please’ blinks, like the ones little girls make when they're asking their parents for a pony. />
  Oh, how cute! “Do you promise to take the oral medications I prescribe—all of them—exactly as directed?"

  His head bobbed up and down eagerly, and drew a chuckle from my escort.

  "Okay,” I conceded and moved to gather gloves, cotton dressing and medical tape. “Honestly, all you men around here have me wrapped around your little fingers."

  Simultaneously, they broke into smug grins.

  "It's true,” I ego stroked while putting on the latex gloves. “I'm simply charmed by you all."

  Though they chuckled in response, their chests puffed out a little more.

  I pulled out the IV needle and deposited it in the bio hazard bin. “Press here,” I asked.

  My patient held the cotton dressing in place while I taped it down.

  "Which reminds me,” I continued while cleaning up. “We never know what tomorrow might bring, so I'm going to tell you this now. Though I came here under the worst of circumstances, I want you both to know that I appreciate the way you've treated me.” I looked to my patient. “Whether trying to cover for my ass,” I then glanced to my escort, “or trying to cheer me up with ice cream. I just wanted to say thanks. Those simple gestures meant a lot."

  They both dipped their heads in gracious acceptance.

  Feeling foolishly sentimental, I smiled and started pulling medications from the cabinet. I laid them on the counter and quickly jotted down the dosage instructions for each of the bottles.

  Never know what tomorrow might bring ... four days to prepare ... evacuation will go smoothly ... I guess I was leaving soon. It was something I should be elated about, but I wasn't. I'd probably never see him again. The possibility made my heart hurt.

  I needed to get some fresh air. Fast.

  I headed for the door, not looking at either man as I did so. I didn't want them to read my melancholy.

  "Make sure to get some rest, please. Both of you,” I directed as I left.

  * * * *

  I sat on the courtyard's stone bench, staring into the fountain, and trying to lose myself in the lull of trickling water.

  It was a beautiful night, reminding me too much of one three weeks earlier when I sat on the same bench with my enemy, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted from me.

  I wondered if my captor made it back to his flat yet. And how he felt about me not being there. As much as I loved him, and everything about him, he seemed the type used to getting his way. Though he didn't directly write it in his note, I read the underlying message of ‘don't leave the apartment’ by his recommended suggestions of what I should do while he was gone. Even the pajamas were a testament to that hint.