“My fault.” I clear my throat. “Better get off me, now.” And by now, I mean fucking now, because my cock is throbbing and I hate having to do something about it when she’s around.
“Why?” she says, frowning. “Don’t you like me?”
Hearing those words, I close my eyes and hold my breath. It’s not a matter of liking her. She can’t like me. I was born from monsters, so a monster I will become. Besides, I’m already well on my way.
Suddenly I feel something hover above my lips and then it crashes down on top of me. It’s warm and luscious and so fucking good. My mouth parts when it shouldn’t, my sinful mind taking control of the situation. I’ve always longed for this. I want more, more. It’s not enough. I need to taste it, but when my tongue dips out and my eyes open, I see it’s her.
I can’t. It will ruin us both.
I shove her aside and stand up from the lounge bed. My cock is fully erect and on display for everyone who glances at me. Not that I give a shit, but I can’t allow anyone to see us together like this.
“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted that.”
“You have no clue what I want.”
“If this is about …”
In my anger I turn around to face her. “Stop making it so fucking difficult. My life is on the line, and I won’t risk it.”
She just stares at me with a blank look on her face, her eyes getting watery.
“This is not happening,” I say through gritted teeth. “Don’t you get it? I’m not your guard. A guard protects people. I was hired to kill.”
She swallows. “I know.”
“Then stop pushing my buttons.”
Tears run down her cheeks. Her tears are the last thing I want, so I cup her face and force her to look at me. “It doesn’t matter what you want or what I want. We’re not in charge. They are.”
“So you let them control your life? You want me to let someone decide what I want to do with my life?” she says.
“You have no choice.”
“Fuck that, there’s always a choice!”
“There is no choice when you and I both know what’s at stake.”
“But why?” she says. “I don’t understand. Why does everyone hate you so much?”
“Because I am a monster.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not true.”
“It is. You don’t even know half of it.”
Her lips quiver as air slips inside. “I wish I did.”
“Don’t wish for evil. You’ll regret it for life.” I lean in and plant a kiss on top of her forehead, and whisper, “Forget. Forget about me. Forget everything. Live your life. I’ll watch you from the shadows and keep you safe.”
***
Friday, August 16th, 2013. 1:00 p.m.
I never thought she’d literally forget. I’ve watched her all right, but not to keep her safe. Not anymore.
Betrayed is an understatement compared to what I feel when I look at her. But at the same time I still feel the urge to keep her. To do all the things to her that my filthy mind thought of when she was in my face. All those years. She’ll pay for what she put me through. I’ll take her in ways she didn’t even know were possible. Pain is just the first step; pleasure is the next. I’ll take what I want and more, make her beg for me, beg for release. I’ll drag her through hell and back. And maybe then … maybe … I’ll keep her as a reminder to myself not to fall again.
I take my phone from my pocket and call the receptionist. “Special order number fifty-six. Yes. Yes, I want you to take care of it. Cost doesn’t matter, just get it done. Good.” When they hang up again a sour taste lingers in my mouth. It stinks that I have to get the hotel to clean up the mess Hannah left outside, but I’m much too busy with my captive to do it myself.
I put my phone back in my pocket again and cock my head to look at Jay. Her chest rises and falls quickly. Being chained to the bed scares her. I could do whatever I want, and she knows that. The fear oozing off her is so arousing. I have a burning desire to taste some more. I admit, I may become an addict. I don’t care anymore. My life has only been about consequences, but now I say ‘fuck you’ to those consequences. I will take what I want and own it. I won’t kill her yet. No, that’s too easy of an escape. She’ll be my seductress, my little bird, and I’ll be the monster in the dark claiming her.
After locking the door again, I walk toward her. She’s shivering, trying to move away from me as I come closer. I sit down on the bed beside her and caress her cheek. She stays still and lets me. Good. She’s finally adjusting.
“If you do as I say, I won’t hurt you.” My thumb travels down to her soft lips again. I can’t help myself. I need to touch her. Need to corrupt her. Need to control her every move. It’s the only way.
I coax her to open her mouth and speak. “Tell me, Jay. What will you do? Will you behave?”
“I won’t fight. I promise,” she whispers as I briefly brush along her tongue.
A wicked grin spreads across my face. “Good.”
I unlock the cuffs around her wrists, but she keeps her hands there, probably afraid to move. I adore that she doesn’t try anything on me. That she finally realizes it’s futile. Although I have to stay vigilant. Her mood could still change at any time.
I unlock the cuffs around her ankles too. She slides back and sits up straight, rubbing her reddened skin. I hold out my hand. “Come with me.”
At first she glances at my hand, then at me, a distrustful look on her face.
“Do you want to live?”
She frowns, confused, and then nods.
“Then you’ll do what I say.” She takes my hand and I lift her up from the bed. Her outfit is dirty and ripped, and in need of changing. Although, I must say, I do like the rugged, edgy look of that red lace and shredded dancer outfit. It’s very titillating, and I was already about to burst after what I did to her ass. Hmm … I can’t wait until she gets under the shower. I wonder if she looks exactly like I remember: like a ripe fruit ready for plucking.
I take her to the bathroom, but when I see the mirror I freeze. The tape is gone.
At first there is disgust. Then there is anger. And then nothing. I’m blinded.
My fist lands on the glass before I realize it, and it shatters, creating a zigzag pattern across the mirror. Blood drips down my knuckles, but I don’t care. I’m fuming.
“You …” I turn around, seething.
“I just wanted to look at myself,” she stammers.
“Don’t ever do it again,” I growl.
“I’m sorry.”
With squinted eyes I look at her, and then open the faucet and stick my hand under. I wash off the blood and think of a way to punish her for her actions. I think I’ve had enough of waiting around with her. I’m taking what’s mine.
I turn on the shower while she stands in a corner, arms folded, like she’s assessing the situation. As I step back, she looks at me with questioning eyes.
“Take off your clothes.”
“What?” Her eyebrow rises.
“Is there something wrong with your hearing?”
“No.”
“Then take off your clothes.”
She clenches her teeth, and I can see her grinding them. Finally, she gives in, and starts taking off her top. She throws the flimsy thing on the floor and then unhooks her bra. It slides off her arms like silk, teasing me as it drops lower and lower, and when it’s off, I’m done for. I’ve already forgotten about the mirror. Her full, round tits and perky nipples are a sight to admire. They always were.
“Underwear too.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks, her face emotionless, as if this is a test and she’s not falling for it. How charming.
My lips quirk up into a half-smile as I lift an eyebrow. “Nothing. You are.”
She takes a deep breath and then hooks her fingers around the fabric of her panties. She slides them down
so slowly, so sensually, I think she’s trying to seduce me. Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. It’s working, all right. She might be tricking me, but it doesn’t matter. Her seduction is exactly what I want, what I need right now.
As she steps out of the fabric, her shaved pussy is finally revealed. She’s a fucking diamond. That body of hers can rile up any guy, no matter what she’s wearing. And now she’s completely naked, ready for the taking, and I’m holding myself back. It’s hard, but I know the reward will be much, much better. She’ll offer her body to me as her last remaining choice, because nobody can resist feeling loved, even if it’s twisted. And oh, how much I love her body. I never stopped loving it. Yet, I only want it when she submits to me freely. Of her own will. Seeing her bow down and bend over, putting everything on display for me and only me … It’ll be worth the wait.
“Once the blood has been spilled, the reaping can begin.” – Notes of X
Chapter 10
Jay
I step inside the bathtub and get under the shower. The warm water feels nice on my cold skin. Goose bumps crawl over my skin as I wrap my arms around my body, trying to keep him from seeing all my private parts. Not that it’s any use. He’s still standing there, watching me. His dark eye takes in my body like cake, his tongue dipping out to lick his upper lip. I can see the bulge in his pants growing fast.
Great. This means he’s in a good mood.
Quieting down was a brilliant idea. He must think I’m still in shock from Hannah’s betrayal. Hell no. I’d have thrown her out of the window myself first if I’d found out she spied on me. Although, I have to admit that it scares me that I’m so indifferent. I’m in constant survival mode, but I refuse to become a victim. I refuse to give in to any trauma whatsoever. I’ll get out of this unscathed and sane. I need to.
To X I might seem like a weak lamb right now, but on the inside I’m still boiling with anger. However, I know my fury won’t get me out of here. First, there’s the belt hanging from the sink in full view as a gentle reminder. Then there’s the fact that he’d shoot me before I had the chance to reach the door.
No, the way to go about this is by being calm, assertive, and above all obedient. It’s not in my nature to be willing, but if that’s what he wants, that’s what he’ll get. Not because he deserves it, but because it’s my one shot at freedom. Giving him anything he wants will make him think I’m easy. It will make me seem conquered. It will make it much easier to betray him once his guard is down.
I’m not a fucking moron. I know how to play this game. Pretending is what I’m good at. Men always want my body, so I give it to them and pretend to like it. Now I’ll do the same for X. I’ll do everything he asks until he’s so far gone in his fantasy of controlling me that he slips up, and then I’ll seize the moment. I’ll be waiting as a silent captive … he’ll never see it coming.
I turn around and look at him. “Now what?”
“Wash yourself.” He points at the soap bar lying on the rack next to me.
I grab it and turn back around again, facing the wall as I start scrubbing myself with the bar. My ass hurts and stings under the hot water, but I don’t want to skip cleaning it. I feel dirty from top to bottom. Like I need to scrub myself with sandpaper. I don’t want to feel disgusted with myself, so I stick my head under the shower and refresh myself. When I open my eyes I catch him staring at me. I didn’t think he’d still be here, although it does make sense. I just keep forgetting. I feel violated by both his real eye and his fake one. Leaning against the wall, he keeps a vigilant watch, biting his lip when I bend over to soap up my legs. There’s a dirty-boy smile on his face that I wish I could slap off.
For some reason I want to rub it in his face that he can’t have me. That I’m here for the taking and that he’s keeping his hands off me tells me he’s waiting for me to come to him instead. Well, I have news for him. I’m not that easy. He’ll have to come and get it, but for that to happen, one of us has to give in first. And using my body to show him what he’s missing feels like a tool. He wants me, but then he doesn’t want me. He’s trying to resist. So that means I’m torturing him when I flaunt my body.
A wicked grin spreads across my face. Power. I have power over him. I need to use this.
With sensual strokes I start lathering my body in soap. My fingers are slow as I swipe them up my legs, pushing my ass toward him. When I stand up again, I turn around to face him with my breasts straight forward. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I spread the soap on my breasts and linger on my nipples, playfully nipping them with my index finger. As I slide my hands down my body, I gasp when I reach my pussy. X notices. His lips part and his black eye narrows. He cocks his head and scratches his neck, his fingers slower and slower with each scratch.
“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?” he asks.
I suck on my lip and raise an eyebrow, shrugging. What can I say? I’m a tease. Especially with men I want to trick.
A half-smile appears on his face. “Go lower.”
My hand reaches down into my slit but I keep it there without moving. Water rushes down onto my body, heating me up as my hand rests on my most sensitive part. It rinses away the soap while I keep my challenging eyes on his.
“Go on.”
“With what?” I ask.
“Ask that again and you’ll get another spanking.”
“Hmmm …” I muse. “And who says I don’t want that instead?”
He laughs. “We can play this the hard way, since you seem so intent on getting me hard.” He points at his pants, which are fully tented now. I smirk and shrug again.
“Play with yourself,” he demands.
“Or else?”
“Do not tempt me to bend you over, Jay. Because I will, and when it happens, I will make you beg for mercy.” He unbuttons his pants and jerks down the zipper in one go, letting his pants drop to the floor. I’m amazed at his muscular legs, the thickness of them, but when my eyes reach his boxer briefs I’m struck with awe. He’s fucking hung.
I almost forget this man abducted me. For some reason his cock is more appetizing than it is scary, considering it’s one of the fucking reasons he wants me—so he can ram that inside me.
I swallow and force myself to divert my eyes, only to find out he saw me staring at his junk.
“It’ll be all yours soon,” he says with a smoky voice. “But first you need to learn to obey.”
I squint as I await his order. My hand is still cupping my pussy, but I can feel it’s already getting warm from seeing him. My body is lusty for him. I hate it. Why do some men have that effect on me? I never understood. Maybe it’s because they offer me something else than just a quickie. Something permanent. Freedom.
“Play with yourself or I will punish you,” he growls, balling his hand into a fist.
I swallow away my nerves and start sliding my finger up and down. At first I’m slow and hesitant, but I’m getting wetter and the slickness is helping me move faster. I can’t help fondle my nub, as it’s swollen and throbbing. His hand is on his huge cock, and he rubs it through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Seeing him touch himself makes me forget more and more who we are and where we are. I’m in the moment, feeling myself, loving myself, forgetting about everything and everyone. My free hand instinctively moves to my nipples, because I always like to tug them whenever I’m fingering myself. Heck, I like it whenever any of my lovers handle them roughly.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I slip my finger through my slit and try to enjoy myself while doing it. I know what he’s expecting to happen, and I can’t do it if I don’t enjoy it. So I keep my eyes shut and pretend he’s not there.
“Open your eyes.” His voice is demanding. Harsh.
My eyes jerk open as if I’ve been pulled from a secret fantasy. I feel like I just got caught, which is ridiculous since he’s been watching this whole time.
Frowning, I stop for a second. My finger is still slippery wet, and it makes me aware of what I w
as doing. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to do it and not be reminded of it. But of course, that’s not what we’re going to do, because he doesn’t like easy. He likes hard.
“Don’t close them again,” he says. “I want you to look at me while you fuck yourself.”
“I can’t do it then,” I say.
“You will do it.”
“I can’t.”
He pushes himself off the wall and reaches for the belt. My breathing becomes ragged. Folding it double, he approaches. He’s fast and merciless as he whips my inner thigh. I wince and struggle not to dance like there are hot coals underneath my feet. The burning mark the belt leaves on my thigh awakens all my nerves. Then another hit on the other, equally as painful, if not worse. It sizzles and sears as he pulls it away again.
“Listen to me,” he hisses. “Use your fingers to fuck yourself. I know you’ve done it before. Now show me how wet you are for me.”
He hits my outer thighs this time, and it stings so much I get the urge to close my legs again. Too bad he won’t let it happen. Another painful lash ensues and I’m off to wonderland. My mind can’t handle this shit. I’ve never been hit. At least, not like this. Sure, I’ve taken a slap or two to my face, but that was different. This is meant as a way to correct me. To train me. To make me obedient. To make me his. Somehow, I think this is meant to be erotic. And fuck me, my pussy even likes it. My clit keeps throbbing after every sizzle and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve gone insane too now.
“Keep them spread,” he says.
“I’m trying,” I say.
“Not. Good. Enough.” He strikes me after each word, making me cringe and fight the tears. The belt leaves red stripes all over my thighs. He keeps looking at them and then smiles, like he’s proud of making my skin look like blood. Twisted doesn’t even describe this.
“Please …” I mutter after the tenth strike.
“Tell me you will spread your legs.”
“I will.”
He hits me again, this time letting the belt flip out and curl around my ass. “What’s that?”
Mr. X Page 9
