Captured (Vice, Virtue & Video Book 2)

by Bianca Giovanni

  “Sweet little pussy,” he murmurs before he inserts two fingers while tonguing my sensitive flesh.

  I’m making little gasps, and my hips are starting to rock, even despite him holding me down, because the sensation is just too overwhelming. I’m not certain that it’s entirely pleasurable, but it’s moving from forceful to pleasurable as my body reflexively revs up a lot quicker than normal.

  He’s making these hungry noises, almost animalistic grunts and growls as he continues, and I close my eyes, my hands moving out of their assigned position so I can grip the sheets and try to prepare.

  “Fucking come for me,” he breathes. “I want to feel this tight little pussy bearing down on me when you come.”

  Everything he’s saying feels very porno and now I’m certain that he’s been doing a lot of “research” since our last encounter. Without a doubt, he’s been watching James’s movies because the tone in his voice is clearly an attempt at emulating that deep baritone of “Master” James. Eh, if that’s what gets Eric hot, then let him roll with it.

  Soon, I’m starting to crest, and he pushes in even deeper with his fingers as he encloses my clitoris with powerful suction, which pushes me over the edge. He thrusts his fingers in and out as I come and his tongue flicks rapidly over me until I reach down and urge him back. I’m way too sensitive after orgasm for him to keep going at me with such force, and I let him know as I snap back to the moment.

  “You have the tightest little cunt, baby,” he says, pulling my waist until I’m sitting up on the bed with him still kneeling between my knees. “My cock’s going to stretch you out, and it’ll feel so good. You’re nice and wet for me. Taste,” he commands, raising his fingers to my lips and pushing them into my mouth before I have the chance to object. “Lick them clean, Lola.”

  This definitely feels porno. I hold his wrist and move him back, not particularly keen on being forced to taste my own fluids—especially without warning like that.

  “See how sweet you are?” he breathes licentiously. “Like a juicy peach, baby. I could eat that little pussy of yours for hours.”

  I know I’m blushing. I’m not averse to dirty talk, though I’ve never personally attempted it, but this is feeling progressively more lewd by the moment.

  In a quick motion, Eric moves onto the bed with me and kisses me hard, crashing his mouth into mine. Again, I can taste myself, but this time isn’t so bad because it’s through a kiss and not a more forceful insertion of fingers. Kissing me after is one thing, making me lick your fingers simply because it’s risqué is another.

  He grabs my hand and moves it down his body, and it’s clear what he wants me to do. I continue the journey, reaching into his pants and taking his cock in my hand. I stroke him lightly at first before speeding up as I tighten my grip.

  “Fuck. Oh yes, baby,” he pants into my neck as he presses me down with his upper body. “Stroke it just like that. Mmm, your hands are so soft. Work my dick like a good little girl.”

  Well, that was a tad creepy. Maybe he’s just too worked up to keep it in check. I’d feel weird calling someone out on something they said in a heated moment. After all, it’s not exactly like you’re in the right frame of mind for politeness when someone’s giving you a handjob. I can’t hold this kind of lascivious babble against him.

  “Wait,” he exhales, grabbing my hand. “I want your mouth.”

  Gulp. I’ve never done this before, and my initial panic is that I won’t be good at it. Should I tell him I’ve never done it? Should I just pretend like I have and try to roll with it? I’m undecided, but he certainly isn’t.

  He slides his pants down his hips a little more and takes out his cock, stroking it as he looks me over. “Sit on the edge of the bed,” he breathes like he’s just teetering on the edge of control.

  He stands, and I move into position, taking a deep breath as I prepare myself. Honestly, I’m not really excited about the idea of doing this. Something about it seems kind of debasing. I don’t have any issue with the concept of returning the favor, and normally I enjoy when a man derives pleasure from what I’m doing, but this feels more like an obligation than a choice. It would be different if I’d volunteered, if I’d wanted to do this for him, but this is being set up as a sort of requirement.

  I stroke him a few times before I take just the tip into my mouth, attempting to recall how the girls in James’s movies do this. They’re pros, they know what they’re doing, and if I can just channel them, I can pull this off. I get a little more enthusiastic when he starts moaning and his hand fists into my hair. He likes it. Maybe I’m okay at it after all.

  I’m thinking everything’s fine when he grabs my head and pushes me forward, forcing himself deeper into my throat. My body reacts on instinct, and I push him back as I gag, coughing a little bit.

  “Try it deep,” he says, looking down on me with animalistic eyes. “All the way down your throat.”

  He grabs my head again and thrusts into my mouth, pushing in until I can’t breathe.

  “Swallow, baby. It won’t be so bad if you relax your throat like you’re swallowing my cock.”

  I try to do as he says and it helps a little bit, but I can’t get over the feeling of not being able to breathe. My eyes start to water a little, and I push him back again. Once more, he pulls me forward, and this time he pumps his hips a few times, effectively fucking my throat. I’m not digging this at all. My stomach retches for a second before I push him back again.

  “I can’t do that deep,” I say, my breathing erratic from trying to gasp in air. “I don’t like gagging like that.”

  “Okay.” He nods, seeming to understand my discomfort. “I want to move on to something else anyway.”

  In an instant, I’m sitting on his lap with my legs parted over his thighs. I feel a little like a ventriloquist’s dummy as he wraps his arm tightly around my waist and reaches his other hand between my legs.

  Two fingers shoot into me again, and I gasp as my body momentarily tenses, unprepared for this.

  “Are you a squirter?” he breathes against my neck as he holds me in place.

  “I don’t think so. I’ve never done it before,” I say, trying to will my muscles into relaxation.

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “You will now,” he says, “and you’ll do it again when my cock’s inside you.”

  “I don’t think I can do it,” I object.

  “Sexy, sweet, young girl,” he whispers. “She has no idea what all this waiting can do to a man.” Great, now he’s narrating. What the fuck?

  “Eric, I don’t—” I start, but he’s already set on it, and soon he’s pumping me so hard with his fingers that my breath catches.

  His whole hand grips me, and his palm is pressed firmly against my clitoris as he whips up and down. The motion is violent, very forceful and intense. I’ve seen this in videos, but something makes me feel like that wasn’t this rough. Eric doesn’t seem to know how to do this properly. It feels like he’s just imitating porn, and I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t be hurting this much.

  “Wait,” I gasp. “Wait, Eric. It’s t-too much.”

  “Come, Lola! Come on my fingers. Squirt for me.”

  “I can’t!” I pant from the pain. “It’s too much!”

  “Just a little more,” he says, jerking even faster now.

  “No more,” I whimper.

  “All right, all right,” he exhales, sounding a little disappointed. “Maybe when I fuck you you’ll do it.”

  “I need a minute,” I say, feeling a throbbing, rolling ache from between my legs.

  “Wanna play with some nipple clamps?” He nips my earlobe.

  “What?” That seemed quite out of the blue.

  “I have some in my briefcase.” His teeth graze my neck as he pushes me even tighter against his chest. “I want to see you wear them while I fuck you.”

  “Don’t they hurt?” I’m still amazed that he’d possess such an item—much
less bring it on our date!

  “It’ll hurt so good, baby,” he says, reaching up to pinch my nipple as he licks a path up my neck. “It’ll be a nice little bite, and then I’ll make it all better with my mouth.”

  Make it all better? I don’t want sex to involve the need to “make it all better.” I want it to be pleasurable in the first place, not painful.

  “I don’t think so,” I reply timidly.

  “I have some more toys for you, too.” His fingers dig into my breast until I wonder if I’ll have a bruise. “I brought handcuffs and a blindfold. I even brought a butt plug for you.”

  “What?” I gasp.

  “I’d love to see you bound and gagged with a plug in your ass while I take your pussy.” It sounds almost entirely like a line from a porn movie, and I find it extremely creepy. “You can be my dirty little slut, Lola. I can spank you like a bad girl and fuck your ass like a little whore.”

  Hell, no! I start to move off him, and he seems kind of surprised. “Definitely not,” I state, rising to my feet.

  His gaze is ravenous and more than a little angry. I’m starting to realize that I’m naked in my bedroom with a man who’s got over a hundred pounds on me and who has crossed completely into the red zone with unchecked desire. This could turn ugly very quickly.

  “So you’ll let a porn star fuck you, but not your boyfriend?” he growls at me. “You’d take his cock but not mine?”

  “What are you talking about?” I say, trying to slowly step back.

  “You let James Langdon put his cock in you. He’s had your pussy and your mouth, probably your ass too.”

  I’m almost dumbfounded by this accusation. “I don’t even—I can’t even believe you’d say that. I’ve never been with James. I told you that.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He rolls his eyes. “That guy’s probably fucked you in every hole, so don’t try to bullshit me.”

  “Where are you even getting this from?” I scoff, stepping back again. He’s fuming, and maybe I could make it to the bathroom and lock the door before he loses it completely.

  “I’m your fucking boyfriend, Lola!” he says, raising his voice. “You expect me to look the other way when I know you’re fucking him and not me? I waited long enough, and now you’re mine.”

  “Eric, I’ve never had sex with James!” I shout back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, and you’re acting like an asshole right now.”

  “If he can fuck you, I can fuck you,” he insists, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward him.

  My heart is pounding like crazy, and I can hear my blood surging through my veins as he shoves me onto the bed where I land on my stomach. I push up and try to move away, but he grabs the nape of my neck and pins me, using his forearm and elbow against my spine to keep me there.

  “You’re going to give me that pussy tonight, Lola,” he snarls. “I’m taking what’s mine.”

  “Stop it! Stop it right now.”

  “Good, struggle like that,” he pants. “It makes it more like his movies when you’re scared.”

  “Eric! Let me go!” I shout, using all my strength to try to wiggle out of his hold.

  In an instant, he’s grabbed my wrists and he’s holding them behind my back. I feel his belt come around them, and he binds me up to my elbows behind my back, forcing my shoulders into an awkward position. I try to kick with my legs, but he grabs my thighs and spreads them open, leaning forward to pin me with his weight.

  “Eric! No!” I scream.

  There’s a loud slap and a stinging pain on my left butt cheek. He spanked me! He just spanked me!

  “Stop it, Eric!”

  “Just like one of his scenes,” he breathes across my back.

  “This isn’t a scene, Eric! And if it were, I would be using my safeword! Let me go right now!”

  “Not tonight, baby,” he says, biting my shoulder. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”

  I’m panicking, and I can feel myself starting to shiver. Is this what going into shock is like? I’ve never been in a situation so traumatic, so I don’t know if this is how the body responds to something like this.

  “I’m taking this pussy, and I’m taking this too,” he breathes, pushing his thumb against my anus.

  I gasp when I feel the pressure as he pushes against it. A frantic yelp escapes my lips when his thumb breaches the barrier and shoves into me in that most off-limits of locations.

  I can’t even scream now. The violation is so overwhelming that I can’t even inhale any air. Tears spill from my eyes and the sheets turn wet from where my cheek is pressed into the mattress.

  “Be a good girl and take it,” he says, pumping his thumb in and out as I cry.

  “Stop it, Eric!” I beg.

  “You’re mine, Lola,” he replies with a darkness in his voice that gives me chills.

  “No, Eric!”

  “You like it rough, you’ll get it rough.”

  He pushes against me again, but this time I feel his cock heavy between my buttocks. He shifts and sets himself on target to enter me. The sheets muffle my scream as I try to mentally brace myself for what’s to come. I wish I could pass out, leave my own body, do something to escape.

  Not like this! Please not like this! I can hardly breathe through my sobs as I use my last bit of strength in a hopeless attempt to fight him off.

  Chapter 14

  James

  “LOOK AT THIS MOROSE MOTHERFUCKER right here,” I say to myself as I look in the mirror. I look like a zombie version of myself, my inner dramatics showing clearly on my face.

  I checked back at Lola’s place a little over an hour ago and she still wasn’t home. I really, really need to talk to her. I just need to see her and to be around her to try to get back some shred of happiness. I’ve got my iPod on shuffle as I lay back down in my bed. Alicia Keys’ song “Fallin’” comes on. That was the song Lola and I slow danced to at the fall formal in high school during her freshman year. I was in love with her even then. I realize that now.

  I think about all the times I’ve touched her or tickled her. I remember the little pajama shorts she wears and how sexy she looks in a bathing suit. That girl can rock a bikini like she should be on the cover of the Swimsuit Issue. Fuck! I want Lola. I still can’t believe it, but it’s totally true. I want her. I want to hold her and kiss her and make sweet, passionate, tender love to her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. This is so fucked-up!

  All right, that’s it! Enough of this moping. It’s late and she has to be home by now. I’m going to go see her.

  The porch light is on, and I can see Eric’s Audi in the parking lot from here. Shit! What if they’re inside and she’s giving it up to him right now? Ugh, now I feel sick. Whatever! I’m going in anyway.

  I unlock the door with my spare key, but the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up when I step inside. I hear a voice—Lola’s voice—and she’s screaming.

  There’s a very loud slapping sound, and then I hear her yell, “Stop it, Eric!” My blood is boiling. “No, Eric!” she shouts.

  I bolt to her bedroom and practically bust the door down. I blanch and my blood goes from fiery hot to chilled to the bone in a fraction of a second.

  This Nordic fucker has my beautiful angel face down on the bed with her wrists bound behind her! She’s crying, and I can see her shaking from the intensity of her sobs. He’s got his dick out, and he’s just about to enter her when I come in.

  His head snaps to me, and I’m so overcome with rage that I’m shaking. I feel like the Incredible Hulk. I lose it completely.

  I grab him by the throat and throw him off of her in a powerful motion. His back goes crashing into her dresser, and the picture frames on it topple to the floor from the impact. I jump on him and punch him hard in the face. His nose bleeds, and he grabs it as he wails. I slam his head into the dresser and it shakes the entire thing, which knocks pretty much everything onto the ground. I wrap my hands around his throat and start s
queezing. I want to kill him. I seriously want to murder this man. He’s vile! What he was doing to Lola was unspeakable. She’s a fuckin’ angel and nobody should ever touch her like that. Ever!

  Eric’s face is red, and he looks like he might pass out. Good. I want him to. He’s lucky that Lola starts screaming for me to stop, because I would kill this motherfucker if she wasn’t here.

  With one hand, I pick up his jeans from the floor, with the other I clutch a fistful of his blond hair and physically drag him to the door. He’s stark naked and bleeding when I toss him outside. I look down at him like he’s lucky I haven’t resorted to murder, and I throw his jeans in his face.

  “You go within fifty feet of her again and you’re a fuckin’ dead man!” I growl at him and slam the door.

  I race back into the bedroom and untie Lola’s hands. She’s weeping so hard, and my heart feels shattered at the sight of her like this. I don’t say anything, I just scoop her up in my arms, and I hold her close against my chest as I sit on the edge of the bed. Never in my life have I felt such a primal, intrinsic, fundamental need to protect someone. Keeping her safe is my most basic urge, and it has been since the day I met her. How could I have let this happen to her?

  She cries for a long time, her tears streaking down the front of my T-shirt as her body trembles with emotion from the trauma she’s been through. My beautiful, perfect angel! The kindest, smartest, prettiest, sweetest, most caring girl in the world. The girl that I love.

  I rock her back and forth a little and stroke her hair. It seems to soothe her because her uncontrollable weeping becomes quiet sobs and sniffles. I kiss her head and rub her back, feeling her calming down with my every little touch.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” I whisper to her, my heart heavy. “I should have been here to help you. I should have fuckin’ killed that motherfucker.”

  She sniffles, and her arms wrap around me tighter as she snuggles into me like I can shield her from an atomic blast.

  “Are you okay, baby?” I whisper to her, brushing her hair out of her face so I can look at her. “Did he hurt you? Please say he didn’t manage to…that I got him before he could…” I can’t even say it. Just the thought that Eric might have forced himself on Lola, that he would have violated her in such a horrible way—it’s more than I can bear.