His Captive: A Revenge Marriage Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  Her apartment was old and dilapidated, shutters falling off their hinges, paint peeling. Not just that, but the neighborhood itself fucking sucked. There were cracks in the sidewalks, weeds everywhere, not to mention the smell of pesticides. Oh yeah, in the bad part of town they still use that shit, it’s hazardous just to walk your dog. So yeah, we were on the money express, and this chick was clearly looking for a way to get herself out of this dump.

  But the thing is, Chance’s description of her was spot on. More than spot on, it didn’t do her justice. Because “Anna,” the fucking whore, was flat-out gorgeous, everything he described her to be. She had curves that went on for miles, huge tits that swung as she walked, making my mouth water. And oh shit, but that ass. That ass made my dick jump from the sight, round, ripe and luscious, like a guy’s cock could get buried in there for days and never come out.

  And worst of all, there was her face. That face was meant for magazines with its straight nose, plush mouth, and big brown eyes. My cock jerked even harder, imagining those lips parting in an “O,” swallowing me deep.

  And fuck, I hated myself even more. Because I was fucking kidnapping my brother’s fiancée to save him, and yet all I wanted to do was fuck her myself. That’s right, I wanted to part her legs and plow between those sweet white thighs, the smell of her cunt engulfing me. I wanted her to bend over and show me those that ass, the white orbs splitting apart to reveal a deep, dusky star.

  Oh shit, I’m such a fucking motherfucker.

  But yeah, I was willing to fuck her up to save my family.

  So I did it. I threw Anna into the trunk of an old beater we keep on standby and drove to our family’s cabin in the woods. It’s a place we go to once every few years, a private spot to get away without the eyes of high society following us everywhere.

  And for the entire drive, I could only think about her. It was so wrong. Even as I listened to Anna scream in the trunk, pounding those small fists against the metal, all I thought about was fucking her.

  Would those full, heavy tits bounce in rhythm as I pounded her from below? Would she cream with desire, trying to worm her ass down on my dick? Would Anna scream my name, “Yes, Rob, oh oh oh!” as she exploded on my cock, that pussy shivering with delight?

  Snarling again, I swore, my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans, it was so fucking hard. God, what the hell is wrong with me? Anna was the professional whore ready to tear my family apart, luring my innocent younger bro into a trap. And yet all I wanted to do was plow that female pussy, spurting my cream? Shit.

  So yeah, now she’s locked upstairs in a bedroom. I have no idea what I’m gonna do just yet, but for the moment, a beer sounds good.

  Walking over to the enormous, fully stocked fridge, I grab a Coors and crack open the top. Following the first long pull, I feel myself begin to relax gradually.

  That woman is nothing but trouble. Trouble wrapped in soft, delicious curves. But trouble all the same.

  Who the hell does she think she is?

  Playing innocent like she doesn’t know what the hell is going on. Her coy, shy girl act may have worked on my naive brother but she won’t screw me over.

  All that begging and pleading doesn’t faze me.

  I don’t give a shit. Anna’s trouble and she’s getting fucked up.

  Although she’s a pretty good actress, I must admit. The soft tone in her voice had been dead on as well as the confusion clouding those pretty brown eyes. But those games won’t fly with me. Because guess who’s a bigger motherfucker? That’s right, me.

  Trying to convince me that I have the wrong woman.

  Trying to make me second-guess myself.

  Yeah, right.

  Shut the fuck up.

  Like there’s another redhead roaming the streets, just asking for it with that lush, bouncy ass.

  Like there’s another redhead walking around with a shy smile and big brown eyes.

  SHIT! Angrily, I grind my teeth, pounding the counter with my fist once again.

  It’s clear as day that Anna’s after my family’s fortune and I won’t let her sink her claws any further into Chance.

  All that BS about me having the wrong woman is just a clever ploy on her part.

  But not clever enough.

  The town tramp is locked in that room upstairs and nobody is going to convince me otherwise.

  Pacing furiously, I travel the length of the downstairs area several times before my anger fully subsides, settling into a simmer. I stalk into the private study near the back of the house to ensure that everything is in place for me to start working tomorrow.

  Because I’m a writer, a best-selling author actually, and this cabin is the perfect place to be alone with my thoughts. Well, as alone as I can be with that red-headed temptress locked up. Still, the trip worked out perfectly since no one’s gonna suspect she’s out here.

  Turning on the light, I enter the room and breathe in the scent of leather and cedar. Seated at the oversized glass top desk, I relax into the cushioned chair and feel myself let go.

  Solitude and comfort wrap themselves around me and peace descends for the first time since my last visit.

  This place is my sanctuary. My home away from home. A place where I can be my truest self, focusing only on the words flying from my fingertips. Of course, dragging along an alluring distraction like Anna isn’t my smartest move. But there had been no other choice.

  As I sit there, my mind catalogues her every curve and I get pissed all over again. What the hell am I going to do with her out here in the middle of the woods? With no one around to hold me accountable for my actions, I don’t trust myself.

  A man can only be so strong.

  Temptation is for the weak … but shit, she looks good.

  My stomach rumbles hungrily and I realize for the first time that I haven’t eaten since breakfast.

  Stalking back into the kitchen, determined to forget her, I open the fridge and inspect the contents. Taking out a couple things, I combine them with some shit in the pantry. There aren’t too many dishes I’m good at, but I can throw together a mean stew. And as my stomach starts rumbling, I quickly pull down pots and utensils.

  Because this place is fully stocked year-round. When we’re not here, staff comes by to clean the cabin and keep it in tip-top shape, making sure the cupboards are full. So yeah, there’s plenty of food and drink, plenty of firewood and kerosene, we’re not gonna die. After all, as members of the Morgan clan, Chance and I always have anything we could possibly want or need at our fingertips. And money talks, baby, money talks. People fall at our feet, trying to get on our good side.

  Frankly, the constant fawning is fucking annoying after a while, but my brother is still young enough to eat it right up.

  Hence, his current situation.

  Shit, how did this happen? But I know why. Because we’re not full-brothers. Chance is my half-bro, someone twenty years younger than me, born when our dad was almost sixty. And after dad passed away, it was just us. So I’ve been more of a father figure to Chance than anything. I’m the one who pays his tuition, who makes sure he stays out of trouble. But it’s not like I was his real dad, Chance pretty much got to do whatever he wanted, running wild.

  And this latest stunt has to be his worst. Really? Marriage after one night? Fuck him. Fuck ‘em all. I can’t believe I’m cleaning up after my baby bro again.

  Dropping chopped onions in the pot, the anger rises in my chest again, making me see red.

  Shit. The first pretty woman that comes his way and Chance is all googly-eyed and proposing marriage like a dumb fuck.

  It’s a well-known fact that we Morgans are loaded. That explains why this woman is so drawn to him.

  The bitch is clearly looking for a payday.

  So what the hell is wrong with him? Can’t he see? Shit, there’s a long line of ancestors who worked hard for this money. And he’s gonna throw it away on a little slut with a creamy pussy? What the fuck is wrong with him?
Busty gold diggers have no place in my family tree, no matter how tempting they are.

  So yeah, kidnapping Anna’s for the best. Kidnapping Anna makes sense.

  And stirring the pot in front of me, I throw in some salt and other seasonings. But it doesn’t take long for my mind to wander back to Anna. It’s annoying how easily her face comes to mind. That soft voice. Those huge tits. FUCK! My poor brother never stood a chance.

  But he’ll forget her. Out of sight, out of mind, especially when your penis is your guide. Besides, Chance has the attention span of a squirrel. If he doesn’t see her for a week or so, he’ll forget. He’ll meet some other sweet thing with huge tits, and propose marriage to her instead. Crisis averted. For the time being.

  But what about me? How the hell am I supposed to survive being alone with her until that happens? How the fuck am I gonna resist? My balls ache, cock growing stiff. But this isn’t the time.

  Finishing the stew, I reduce the burner to a low heat setting so that it continues to simmer. And grabbing a bowl, I spoon out a hefty serving, settling in for a hearty meal. Flavor bursts on my tongue because the stew’s fucking delicious, a masterpiece.

  And as I eat, my mind wanders. I seriously consider starving the woman upstairs. It would serve her right to be deprived of nutrients. But if she starves, I’ll have even more trouble on my hands. A skeleton is way worse than a live woman. Because what’s happened isn’t exactly legit.

  So spooning some broth into a bowl, I grab it and head upstairs to give it to her. She’ll have to make do without any utensils. It’s the only way I can think of to exact a semblance of revenge at the moment.

  Let her slurp it up like a fucking cat.

  Stomping up the stairs, I steel myself to see her again.

  Shoulders squared and jaw clenched tight, I unlock the door and expect to find her weeping form huddled in the corner, sad and depressed.

  Instead, what I see surprises me.

  Because sitting on the edge of the bed, Anna’s back is ramrod straight. Her regal posture puts the huge, round globes of her breasts on full display. And when the door snicks open, she turns to me with wary eyes.

  Although caution and distrust are clearly visible, not a single tear is in sight. Nor are there any dried streaks on her cheeks to suggest that she cried in my absence.

  She hasn’t collapsed yet and a part of me is furious that I haven’t been able to break her yet. But I will. I’ll destroy this little chickadee, there’s no doubt about that.

  But deep down, I can’t help but be impressed. The woman is obviously a lot stronger than I’ve given her credit for, unwilling to let me so easily conquer and win.

  Despite the turmoil of the day, her beautiful face looks fresh and radiant. There is a nasty bruise forming near her temple and I know it’s a result of the rough journey she spent trapped in the trunk.

  My cock is already responding from being this close to her. Watching the rise and fall of her busty tits, I feel my dick twitching inside my boxers.

  Fucking hell.

  This woman is a conniving golddigger as well as my prisoner at the moment. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I shove the stew at her and watch her startled gaze land on the huge bowl.

  “Thank you,” she whispers gratefully. Her voice has a raspy quality now.

  With her hands wrapped around the dish, she continues eyeing me intently. Those brown eyes are swimming with questions and I’m not interested in sticking around to answer them. But my dick twitches reflexively as she opens that pink pout for her first bite of stew.

  Awww, fuck. It’s a shapely, plush “O,” perfect for sucking.

  But there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her witness the way my cock reacts around her. She’ll let it go to her head, thinking she has all the power if she finds out how fucking sexy I find her.

  Under no circumstances can that happen. So turning swiftly, I head for the door to make my escape.

  But she calls out to me as soon as I reach the threshold. And I’ll be damned, but my cock jerks again at the sultry voice.

  “What’s your name?” she murmurs softly.

  Facing her again, my breaths are calculated as I try to crush my arousal, willing my dick to obedience. It’s almost impossible because her unique female musk keeps invading my nostrils.

  But the girl gives nothing away, sitting there poised and calm while I’m a fucking monster. This is so fucked up on every level. The way my body responds to her is unacceptable. A woman with her ulterior motives isn’t deserving, she’s a Jezebel, looking to steal everything from our family. However, all that doesn’t change the fact she’s got me stiff as a board.

  None of this makes any sense.

  Yet here I am. Uncontrollably rigid in spite of how wrong it feels. Desperate for an opportunity to touch her soft pink lips, to run my fingers through that plush, wet snatch. She has the sexiest heart shaped mouth I’ve ever seen. I bet her cunt is even better.

  Succumbing to a moment of weakness, I foolishly wonder how those perfect lips would feel stretched wide around my throbbing cock, her cheeks vacuumed in with pressure.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Releasing a frustrated grunt, my eyes narrow but I grind out an answer.

  “I’m Robert,” I rasp nastily. “Not that it matters.”

  “Robert…?” she pauses, waiting for a last name to complete the puzzle.

  Yeah right, fuck you. Like I’m gonna to tell her.

  “My last name isn’t important. You don’t need to know any more than you do.”

  Her expression remains calm.

  “But you clearly know so much about me. Or at least you think you do. I’m at a slight disadvantage here. Don’t you think you at least owe me that much?”

  Her brown eyes hold no fear when she looks at me, brave and straightforward. It just makes me angrier.

  “I don’t owe you a damned thing,” I growl. “You’ll take what I fucking give you, when I give it to you.” Aw shit, aw shit, I’m such a fucking asshole. But beneath my nasty words, goddamn, my body is so fucking hard.

  Again redhead eyes the contents of the bowl. And just when I think she’s going to open that pretty little mouth with a snappy retort, she surprises me yet again.

  “Ok then, have a good night Robert,” the girl replies calmly.

  Staring at her for a moment, I try to piece together what the hell just happened as her words register in my brain.

  Is she dismissing me?

  Is she getting rid of me?

  Is she telling me, the alpha male, to beat feet?

  The redhead’s face is calm and serene, pretty as a picture while she waits patiently for me to leave the room. Of course she’s gorgeous! The voice in my head screams. This slut got your brother to propose marriage after one night. What, you thought she’d be ugly? That’s her weapon, that’s how Anna gets dudes to do what she wants.

  And furious with myself, I storm out, slamming the door like a fucking monster. The impact rattles the wall, disturbing the quiet of the cabin.

  But downstairs, my mind still can’t grasp what happened.

  Why isn’t she afraid of me?

  Most women would be shaking and begging for mercy, terrified to their bones.

  But the woman I just left in that room seems like a completely different person than the one who was pleading for freedom earlier.

  What happened?

  What has she been up to in there?

  Sitting up on that bed just now, she’d looked so strong and brave, a woman with some real backbone.

  And for the life of me I can’t figure out why that makes me so fucking hard. Was it the sweet, heart-shaped face? The big brown eyes and bouncy curls? The big boobs that I couldn’t help but glance at? Yeah, it was all that and more. It was the way she took on the Big Bad Wolf, calm and assured, like I was a little boy throwing a tantrum. Anna’s a prisoner, but somehow, she’s kept her dignity.

  And I respect her for it. Shit, if
we keep going at this rate, I’ll have the bluest balls in the state.

  Maybe a good night’s sleep will help me strengthen my resolve. I grunt, shaking my head. Because all I want to do at this point is break down that door and take her hard while that shapely body writhes underneath me, pleading for mercy.

  Spreading those thick thighs apart, I’d ram my cock into wet slit repeatedly until thick spurts of hot cum overflow her beyond capacity and spill onto the pristine sheets, smearing across her ass.

  Shit, what the hell is wrong with you? the voice in my head rages again. She’s a slut. Of course she has you desperate, that’s what Anna’s best at.

  I shake my head, frustrated. Aw fuck, she’s gotten under my skin. How the fuck did this happen?

  Striding to the guest bedroom, I bang open the door. Typically, I sleep upstairs in the master suite down the hall from Anna’s room. But I can’t be that close to her. So I’ve taken precautions, even if it’s something as dumb as being on a different floor from her.

  But images of that curvy body keep running through my mind, like a tape on repeat. Standing in the center of the room, I seriously consider jerking off to relieve the excruciating pressure. Yeah, that’d do it, a hand job ending with a fistful of sticky cum, man milk dripping on the floor. But as I run my fingers up and down the front of my jeans, I know with certainty that nothing will compare to burying myself deep inside of the girl upstairs.

  Dropping my clenched hands at my side, a ragged breath escapes me. Calming myself with controlled breaths, I decide to alleviate tension another way.

  And a hundred pushups later, sweat begins to bead my brow as I move up and down on the wood floor. The exertion feels good and fatigue begins to claim my muscles. Grunting in the process, my energy is redirected into maintaining proper form along with speed and agility.

  Another two hundred reps accumulate in no time. Frustration has been replaced with exhaustion, the girl driven into a corner of my mind. I’m ready for a shower, and when I stand, my previously engorged cock is only semi-hard. Fuck yeah, it worked. I stopped lusting after my prisoner, the girl who was gonna fuck up my family and steal our money.

  She’s a slut, she’s a slut. Anna’s a slut. If I have to, I’ll repeat it like a mantra until I die.