The Hard Way: Taken Hostage by Kinky Bank Robbers 5

by Annika Martin

  “W-what?”

  Odin narrowed his eyes. “That question makes me think you might be forgetting what you’re here for.”

  Thor looked at me regretfully. I knew that look. He was getting into it.

  I swallowed.

  Odin eyed me. He liked pushing the envelope. Pushing everyone beyond their comfort zones. Most especially me.

  I’d gotten used to a featherbed, and Odin was offering…a bed of nails. But I felt alive, suddenly. And scared and hot, and like I was flying a little bit.

  “You look excited, goddess. You think I’ve invented this plan just for your excitement?”

  Yes, yes yes I do, I thought, pulse racing, desiring nothing more than his hand on my pussy again. I just needed that, needed him.

  He turned to Thor. “Take her to that alley and strip her.” Casually, he sat back, twirling his foot in circles, an unreasonable dictator waiting for his subjects to fulfill his command.

  Thor stood, blond locks shining in the moonlight. “Come on, Ice.”

  “What if somebody walks by?”

  Thor took hold of my arm and hauled me up. “Maybe you’d like that.”

  I narrowed my eyes and thought about it a little bit. “It’s true, I do like a watcher, but only under certain circumstances…”

  “What is this? Debate squad?” Odin growled. “Keep stalling and you’ll lose your heels, too.”

  “Wait a minute.” Zeus finally spoke up. “Hooooooold on a second here.” He peered at Odin uncertainly, as if gazing through thick fog. “You have her stripping down to her high heels to wait naked in the alley…”

  Odin turned a harsh gaze toward Zeus. “That’s right.”

  Zeus looked confused. “Standing there waiting for us in just her high heels?” he said.

  Odin gave him a hard gaze. “Yeah.”

  Zeus straightened. “Why the fuck would you change your mind and have her take the heels off? The heels make the whole thing hot.”

  Odin turned to me triumphantly. His eyes were a harsh caress on my body—up and down and everywhere.

  Thor pulled me up. “Come on.” He helped me navigate over the cobblestones, off into the gloomy darkness where even the moonlight didn’t shine. “This is the commercial district. Nobody will come.”

  “Right,” I whispered.

  “Though you never know.”

  I snorted. My guys would never make me wait naked for them where just anyone could come by, but I loved the vague threat of it. And Thor knew it.

  He led me into the dark alley, rough concrete pockmarked with gouges from centuries of delivery vehicles bashing into the walls, creating deep divots. Thor put on his iPhone flashlight, and I noticed a row of small windows loomed above, each covered with a cage. Storehouses, closed for the night. There was a lamp up there, too. Burned out. Faint graffiti covered one section of wall. Maybe from last month or fifty years ago—you never really knew with Rome. He stopped me midway down and pocketed his phone.

  “Strip, goddess.”

  “I’m not so sure about this plan,” I said.

  “Is that a Mississippi?”

  “Did it sound like a Mississippi?” I said, a little too saucy.

  Thor pressed a firm hand at my chest and pushed me against the wall. The roughness of it caught on the fabric of my dress. It was kind of delicious. Needless to say, I was in a very non-Mississippi mood.

  With a stormy gaze, he yanked off the belt of my dress. It was a wraparound, the favored style of fancy Italian designers and dirty-minded bank robbers the world over. He pulled the halves apart and slid his hands up and down my bare belly. “I like you like this. So much.” He pressed in for a kiss as he pushed the dress off over my shoulders. I shrugged it off and gave it to him. He bunched it up and fit it in his pocket.

  “Panties,” he said.

  I sucked in a breath. I’d recently gotten a Brazilian wax, and I felt extra exposed.

  “Now,” he said.

  “What if they make me wait a long time?”

  He stepped near to me, hooked his thumbs on either side of my panties, and slid them down my thighs and down, down, down my legs. He knelt in front of me and planted a kiss on my bare mound. “Correction: I love you like this.” He gripped my thighs and shoved his tongue right into my folds.

  “Omigod.” I grabbed his hair, nearly coming right there.

  His clever tongue delved between my legs.

  Did I say clever tongue? His tongue was more than clever; it was dangerously intelligent—omniscient, even. Thor’s tongue knew all, knew how to zero in on the most ticklish and needy places between my legs that even my mind hadn’t detected, while cunningly changing into the most devastatingly perfect shape, from hard, tubular muscle to a flat resistance-is-futile entity.

  And then it was gone.

  “Noooo!” I whispered. “Back!”

  He stood back up and undid my bra. “You think you can pull me off task?” he asked with a humorous glint in his eyes. “Is that what you’re trying to do?”

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “You are so poorly behaved,” he said, fingering me, “with your pussy so beautiful like that.” He was breathing hard, pulling my bra loose from my arms with one hand and touching me with the other.

  Soon his suit jacket pockets bulged with my outfit. I winced to think of the wrinkles, though the outfit not actually being on me was probably the far greater of the two fashion faux pas.

  Thor whipped off his suit jacket and hung it on a bit of rebar that was sticking out like a wiry arm, high above, so that he was just in shirt sleeves. He rolled back his cuffs a turn, then he took hold of my shoulders and turned me, pressing me to the cool and nubby stone wall. He covered me with his warm, clothed body, erection jutting into my ass. “How does it feel?”

  “Bumpy,” I said. “Cool.”

  He slid his hands down my arms, then he stretched them up over my head. With my fingertips, I felt something like a grate. It was one of the window cages.

  “Grip it,” he said. “You’ll need to hold on tight for this.”

  Heart racing, I curled my fingers through the squares.

  “Odin said to prepare you utterly in the ass, but he wanted you to feel the wall, too.”

  He reached his hands around my breasts and found my nipples and began to work them. Now and then they’d touch the wall, sending volts through me. Was the whole wall electric? The entire world? “Oh, god,” I said.

  “Too much?”

  “Too much…yet not enough.”

  Warm in my ear, he whispered, “That means it’s just right.” He kissed down my neck, and he ruthlessly touched my nipples to the wall. He forced a knee between my thighs and urged my legs apart. “Spread,” he breathed. “Nice and wide the way we like.”

  I complied, stepping apart.

  He slapped my ass. “Wider.”

  I widened my stance.

  “Good girl.”

  I shivered as he reached between my legs and slid a lone clever finger between my slick folds from behind, then drew my juices to my asshole and spread them around.

  I gasped. It was so much sensation! I squeezed my butt cheeks together.

  “Relax, baby.”

  “If I relax, I’ll come.”

  “Relax and don’t come.”

  He let go of my nipple and palmed the globe of my butt cheek, pulling it sideways.

  I whimpered as he exposed my asshole. “Keep your nipples on that wall. You will keep them glued to that stone as if your life depends on it.”

  “Okay,” I panted.

  He drew away from me. I heard the faint metallic crunch of a metal cap being opened.

  The olive oil.

  I swallowed, waiting in the cool night air.

  I felt the cool dribble of oil at the top of my seam. Thor pulled apart my cheeks, and the drip descended down—slowly, ticklingly, tracing a cool, slow path toward my asshole.

  Everything in me and my entire universe of awareness was focuse
d on that one slow-moving drip, heading south toward my wildly sensitive pucker. Like nothing else existed except that drip and my asshole.

  I whimpered, and Thor just pulled my cheeks wider in the cool air.

  “Fuck.” I tried to concentrate on the rough rubbing on my nipples, on the rusty flakiness of the bars I clung onto above me, but I was all about that drip, and I had this irrational fear that I’d explode in an orgasm once it hit my pucker, and once I got that in my head, I couldn’t get it out.

  Finally it hit my asshole. I clenched up, breathing through the sensation.

  Thor grunted in satisfaction.

  My entire body sprung to attention as Thor lit his oily finger upon my asshole. He began to move it—slowly, deliciously—around and around. He was only touching the outside of my asshole, sliding the olive oil around and around it in the same basic place—around the block, if you will—but each trip around gave me shivery new pulses of excitement. Stoking me up higher and higher. With trips around the block like this, who needed exotic vacations?

  “Uh,” I said.

  “You feel everything here,” he said, coating my pucker with more oil. “So sensitive, like we never even fucked you here.” Slowly he worked it in, pressing in further and further. He pulled it out, added oil, and pressed in, wiggling mercilessly against my entrance.

  His finger was as evilly intelligent as his tongue, wiggling like it knew, like it just knew that was my orgasm kryptonite, working deeper and deeper. I felt it so vividly and precisely—his knuckle, his fleshy finger pad. Inside me. I thought I would die. Instead I just moaned.

  “What?”

  “I can feel every bit of your finger.”

  “That’s right, baby,” he said, drawing it out and plunging it in again. “Take it deeper. Feel how I’m in you.”

  “If I feel any more, I’ll be in the fourth dimension.”

  “You can handle it.” He wiggled his finger inside me now. OMG, the wiggle was back!

  His lips were saying don’t come, but his wiggling finger had different ideas. “Good girl.” He pulled his finger out and ran it along my seam, teasing it again.

  “Oh my god, no more!”

  “Shhh,” he said. “I’d put a gag around that mouth of yours if I didn’t think Odin had plans for it later.”

  He pushed back in, deeper and deeper. He got a rhythm going with it, fucking me a little deeper each time, fucking me and curling his finger.

  “You’re gonna make me come.”

  “Odin would be angry,” he said, finger-fucking me ruthlessly. “He has plans for this asshole.” I was pushing back on him. I wanted him to fill me more, more, more.

  But then he pulled out. “I’d say that’s more than enough.”

  I heard him stroll across the alley. To get his jacket?

  “You’re not leaving me here like this, are you?”

  “You heard Odin as well as I did.”

  “You have to hurry!”

  “You know how it works, goddess. We’ll come when we see fit. Be ready.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  But his footsteps were already receding.

  I waited, panting in the dark. Naked, alone, vulnerable. Though deep down, I knew they’d stop anybody who would come into this alley. And it seemed like a dead end from the other side.

  Still, I pretended I was alone in a real alley, and strangers might come and fuck me.

  The cool night kicked up, caressing my nakedness like dark, cool fingers, making everything feel wild.

  I closed my eyes, wishing I could touch myself—just a tiny bit—but I knew better.

  The waiting made my excitement build. One touch between my legs and I might come.

  I tried to battle back my libido with mental distraction. In my mind, I began to compose a letter to the Gigis, my jewel-thieving gal pals.

  The Gigis had made me promise to write them all about the trip. I tried to think how to describe the vineyard and medieval castles we’d toured, or the art museums we’d wandered through. I tried to conjure up images of our favorite paintings, but they kept morphing into images of Thor’s finger sliding teasingly around the pucker of my asshole, and the only words I could think of were words for how awesome that felt, and what an amazing relief it was when he finally slid that one finger into me, how my whole being became a chorus of yes, yes, yes! And when he pushed it in deep and wiggled it…

  Well, let’s just say it was not the kind of newsy and descriptive letter the Gigis had had in mind when they’d made me promise to write.

  A breeze kicked up. I whimpered, wildly turned on. Being naked and alone outside made me hot. Odin knew it, naturally.

  It was a little bit like my favorite cartoon porn, the woodland elf girl. And the hunters come upon her. Odin probably had that in mind, that echo. He was an artist that way. I pressed my breasts to the wall, slid them across it, like Thor made me do. The feeling shot to my core. The soft breeze licked my bare ass.

  Eventually footsteps echoed on the other side of the alley. And then another pair of footsteps.

  The footsteps drew nearer.

  Every inch of my skin was on fire.

  A low and rumbly voice. “What do we have here?”

  Odin.

  Out the corner of my eye, I saw Zeus. He was a dark figure, leaning against the alley wall some ways down, bottle dangling from his fingers.

  Thor took up residence next to him, his blond hair a flash in the night.

  Odin kept coming. “It would be a shame to come upon her and not use her for our pleasure.”

  Oh my god, he was doing it. The original elf girl, lost and vulnerable in the woods. But this was the Italian alley version. Like the CSI versus CSI Miami version.

  Odin came up next to me and slid a finger along my chin. “Are you almost there?”

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “But you weren’t following my directions, were you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your beautiful ass a little bit out?” I whimpered as he caressed it. I pressed it out into his hand, hoping he’d stick a finger or three in. Or was this one of those things where they got me wanting something superbad only to withhold it?

  Odin slid a hand across my left butt cheek, then he gave it a hard slap. “Out more.”

  I complied.

  “There. That’s how I told you to wait. You still think this is Mr. and Mrs. Claus we’re playing at?”

  Whack.

  My entire being quivered.

  “Is that what you think?” he continued. “That we’re like fluffy laughing Christmas characters with no edge?” Slap. “Like Mr. and Mrs. Claus?” Whap.

  Odin really had a negative thing about Santa and Mrs. Claus. Like they symbolized a disturbingly neutered existence, rather than, say, presents under the tree. “Um…”

  He hit me again, a sting followed by exciting and sparkly warmth. It was good. I wanted a lot. I wanted everything, everything, everything.

  “Tell me, goddess, is this what Santa and Mrs. Claus do?”

  “I hope not,” I breathed between spanks. “Or they’d traumatize a lot of elves. Not to mention children.”

  Everything went still.

  Except for the thunderous silence.

  My heart pounded.

  Mischievously, I added, “It would definitely be the end of their paid holiday appearances at shopping malls.”

  “Oh, Ice.” Odin grabbed my hands and spun me around to face him.

  I teetered on my wobbly heels, breathing hard while he looked deeply into my eyes.

  He’d seemed so distant lately with his nightmares, but I felt us connecting now.

  He held my hands and pressed them back to the wall above my head so that the backs of my hands grazed the nubby brick and held me there, letting the night air play upon my breasts and belly, so cool and sweet.

  And then he kissed me, deep and intense. “We love you, goddess,” he said into the kiss, “but sometimes you are so naughty.” He roamed his
hands all over my body. “And so wet. You love being naked in a dirty alley.”

  “Do it,” I begged.

  “Do what?” He casually slid a finger into my mouth. It tasted faintly of garlic and basil and everything wonderful about our dinner.

  I sucked it, hard, hopefully giving him ideas of things to do very very soon.

  He looked at me strangely, drew the finger down my jaw. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.” I trusted him completely, dangerous mood and all. I trusted Odin in a way I’d trusted few people ever.

  Casually, he stepped back and took off his fine suit jacket. He threw it onto the ground like a picnic blanket.

  “What are you doing? Dude, the jacket!”

  “Shhh.” He put a hand to my mouth. “We’re rich bank robbers, right?” He pulled it away and waited, as though he expected an answer.

  I said, “We’re the richest and most badass bank robbers ever.”

  “That’s right, and we’ll pave the fucking-g street in cashmere jackets if we want. Now kneel. Take me out.”

  I kneeled in front of him and took his cock out of his pants as he undid his shirt cuffs and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He was making a real show of rolling up his cuffs really far. I took him in my mouth as he caressed my hair, gently, lovingly.

  “Thor, come over her and touch her. Squeeze and rub her lips. Make her feel good.” He stroked my hair. “But no coming.”

  Thor came over, crouched behind me, and began to touch and stroke me.

  “Yes. Get me off, Ice. Fuck yes.” He pressed into my mouth, fucking my mouth like crazy. I took his giant cock deep, feeling him against the back of my throat. “Your lips are so beautiful when they’re on me, stretched around me.”

  I could still see Zeus off to the side. A dark presence leaning against the nearby wall.

  I was so on the edge. I wanted to die. Odin pulled out and turned me around to face Thor, who kissed me, too.

  I heard the bottle top of the olive oil again. And all my senses went on high alert.

  Thor paused in the kiss, and I felt something pass between them. A look. An awareness.

  “Give me your ass, goddess,” Odin grated.