Deviant: Courtney & Dustin: A Captive Tale (The Billionaire Voyeur Book 2)

by Rowena

  She feels more than right in my arms, and I know she realized it too.

  I haven’t hugged her since the first time, and I could tell then that she didn’t want me to let go.

  Don’t worry, Courtney, I won’t.

  But I’m leaving her to initiate the next touch; she will come to me on her own.

  “How many days do you think we’ve been here?” she asks.

  “Well, if we assume we initially woke up during the same day we got kidnapped, this is day six.”

  I know this because on Day 1, I woke up to see the woman I’m meant to be with knocked out cold nearby, a girl I hadn’t seen in years. We reacquainted ourselves, argued lightly, I flashed her my cock and later masturbated to the thought of her naked body nearby as she showered, a creepy unseen stranger describing it in detail.

  That was a first, by the way. Not masturbating to thoughts of her, but having a third party involved somehow.

  Day 2 is marked by our first breakfast together, not long after I caught her masturbating next to me in bed. I learned later she’s a virgin.

  On day 3, we managed not to argue the whole day, yapping about everything you could imagine, and when I woke up on day 4, her arm was thrown across my torso—she had shifted so that we were no longer head to feet; instead, we’ve been lying side by side like a proper couple since.

  Our only argument that day came from her catching me taking a peek at her in the shower.

  That was a terrible decision on my part, but I didn’t feel bad about it because I had caught her doing the same to me minutes earlier.

  On Day 5 we didn’t talk as much—she retreated to somewhere in her head while awake for short periods of time, between many naps.

  And now here we are at Day 6.

  Courtney’s energy has been nervous all day.

  She hasn’t retreated like yesterday, but she hasn’t exactly been present.

  She answers questions but doesn’t initiate any; she seems unable to carry a conversation.

  “But if we woke up the day after we got kidnapped, we’re on Day 7, and it’s probably too late to get off easy—no pun intended,” I say to her.

  “I just don’t understand—what’s he going to do?”

  I shrug. “Looks like we’ll find out soon.”

  Finally, she stops wringing her hands and says firmly, “I’ve come up with an idea.”

  She scoots closer to me and whispers it—I guess figuring the kidnapper won’t be able to hear.

  What she says makes me smile for so many reasons.

  She thinks she has come up with a way to satisfy the billionaire’s terms and keep her virtue, and I don’t think it’ll work, but I’m more than happy to try.

  “Let me know when you’re ready,” I say, unable to wipe the small grin off my face.

  It’ll be interesting to see how she decides to take the lead.

  Brunch comes and goes and we’re left with snacks until dinner.

  Courtney is still nervous, but there’s a positive energy about it—like she’s hopeful.

  Finally, she drops her bathrobe, exposing her smooth, creamy skin, her naughty bits covered by tantalizing red lace.

  My cock rages to attention while my eyes greedily take in her beauty in the scarlet lingerie.

  Sure, I glimpsed her naked in the shower, but I saw her from the side—the curve of her backside, one perky tit.

  Now I’m getting full frontal, and though covered, not really. The see-through lace only makes her more tempting.

  The monster I managed to keep at bay the past few days rears its head again, and I have to actively work to tame it; after all, this isn’t the moment it gets what it wants.

  Courtney’s blue eyes zero in on the change in my boxers and she licks her lips.

  “That was quick,” she says a bit shakily.

  “Doesn’t take much when it comes to you,” I manage to say, my voice thickened with growing lust while my cock gets bigger and bigger.

  I want to rip those fucking panties off her, tear that bra in half...

  “Dustin, I...I can help you take the edge off.”

  She sounds like a nervous kid reading lines in a play rehearsal, but it doesn’t matter—the plan is in motion.

  “You better,” I say darkly, meaning it.

  She gulps then heads closer as I pull my boxers down, my raging cock springing free and bouncing a bit in its release.

  It is throbbing with need, the repressed desire of the past week surging to the surface.

  I’ve got to keep it together somehow—I can’t take more than she’s willing to give.

  It would be fairly easy to seduce her, but for now, she gets to decide.

  Still, my hands are itching to grab her and take her down to the ground or better yet, pick her up and dump her on the bed. Either way, I’d like to trap her beneath me.

  I’m yearning to yank those panties off, climb on top of her and settle between her spread legs, her bent knees on the side of me. I want to fill my mouth with her soft tits, find her warm, wet virginal hole with the smooth head of my cock and...

  She is on her knees now, her small hand reaching for my jutting rod.

  Jesus Christ, looking down at her like this, her big blue eyes gazing up at me with so many emotions I can’t pinpoint right now passing through them. I can’t think much now that her hand is wrapped around my dick and she’s bringing the tip toward her mouth.

  I let out a guttural groan once her warm mouth closes over me.

  I briefly wonder, Has she done this before? But it doesn’t matter—all that matters is that she keeps doing what she’s doing, swirling her tongue over my heated, swollen flesh, taking me in deeper.

  My tip grazes the back of her throat, then she pulls back and teases the underside of the head, her tongue slithering over the mushroom tip.

  I grab a handful of her hair, the beast inside me almost fully awake.

  Once she finds her rhythm, bobbing her head over my cock as she sucks and licks my shaft, she brings her other hand to cup and fondle my balls like a pro.

  When she moans against my dick as she sucks me, my balls start to draw up and I let out some sort of growl.

  She moans again, the vibration traveling through my cock, the sound setting off some sort of countdown, and I start skull-fucking her, thrusting into her mouth while controlling her head in my hands.

  Best she can do is hold on while I shove my dick in and out of her hole, the buildup to climax intensifying while she takes the mouth pounding like a champ, her eyes watering, her soft lips still pressing down on my rock-hard cock, her tongue still slithering and swirling.

  I thrust faster and faster, my butt cheeks clenching hard as I come, spurting jet after jet of my pearly liquid down her throat, pleased that she didn’t try to pull away.

  She dutifully stays in place, swallowing while orgasmic pleasure pulses through me.

  Jesus Christ, that was a dream come true.

  I am euphoric, and it’s all because of Courtney’s pretty little head.

  The climax was blinding and deafening, and it takes me a few more moments to start coming down from it, even after she finally slides her mouth away from my still-pulsing dick.

  I realize her eyes look different once everything else starts coming into focus again.

  She looks, if I’m not mistaken, hungry.

  She’s not just doing this because she has to. She actually wants it. Needs it.

  “Get on the bed,” I say. “And take your fucking panties before I rip them off.”

  She does as I say, plopping onto the bed and positioning herself for me on her back.

  She starts wriggling the red lace off.

  My eyes immediately go to her bare slit, and once she tosses the underwear aside, I position myself between her legs, my head above her pussy.

  “My god, you’re practically dripping,” I say, taking in the wetness leaking from her.

  Her pussy is beautiful, her bare lips begging for my mouth, m
y tongue.

  I’m still looking at her, taking in every curve and valley when she lets out a short moan, one that sounds a bit like frustration.

  After getting revved up sucking my cock like that, she’s obviously in dire need of relief.

  I take a deep whiff, inhaling her delicate feminine scent, hoping I can embed it in my memory and recall at will if I somehow never get the chance again.

  “Dustin,” she begs, wiggling her hips a bit, then pushing her juicy cunt up toward my face.

  I dive for her pussy, covering her with my mouth, my tongue sliding up one petal fold then the other as she moans and whimpers delightfully.

  I munch her, tasting her essence, pulling at her delicate skin with my lips.

  I swipe my tongue across her slick entrance, making her arch, then I poke it inside her a bit, teasing her with sliding in-and-out movements, wiggling it against her inner walls.

  She is a writhing, moaning mess, her feminine groans filling the air, her hands grabbing fistfuls of my hair.

  Then I slide my tongue from her hole, bathing her lips with it again, dragging it up to her clit, then clamping down on it with my lips, my tongue still sliding around and teasing her peaks and valleys.

  I eat her until she’s crying out my name over and over, calling for God, and when I reach up to grab her arms and pin her wrists to the sides of her hips while I continue to munch her, she lifts her pussy, thrusting against my face, trying to take more.

  Oh, I can give her more—my cock is waking back up.

  “Please…” she begs.

  Fuck, we had a deal. She’s a virgin...

  Get me in there, my cock demands, but I continue sliding my tongue over her petals while I slip a finger inside her slick hole, moving it in and out until she bucks violently, pushing up against my face as she comes loudly, her body temporarily frozen in place by her climax.

  “Oh my god!” she eventually breathes, sounding absolutely stunned.

  It suddenly occurs to me: Has no one ever done this to her before?

  I know she’s a virgin, but that doesn’t mean other stuff’s out of the picture.

  There’s no way Brick didn’t at least have her blow him, and if he did, I guess that doesn’t necessarily mean he returned the favor...

  “That was amazing,” she says, sounding grateful, shocked, and joyous all at once.

  Nothing like the real thing, baby, I almost say, but hold back.

  I slide up next to her while trying to will my growing hard-on away.

  “You’re amazing,” I say, my own voice tenderized by genuine feeling.

  I’m madly in love with this gal, and while I’ve been able to push aside my feelings for her before, this whole thing has not only brought them back to the surface but intensified them in a way I can’t walk away from.

  Those same feelings have added to the danger of the situation we’re in now.

  Though I sought her warmth when I moved my head from between her legs to lie next to her, with our bodies barely an inch away from each other, I quickly realize it’s a mistake to stay there when my cock’s still not under control and my heart’s doing backflips.

  As delightful as it is to look into her beautiful relaxed face, to see the tender way she’s looking at me, her bare, wet pussy is too close to my hard, demanding cock and I desperately want to deepen our connection, to physically bring us even closer by joining our bodies.

  I consider spooning her so that she’s facing away from me instead, but that’s also a terrible idea, putting her in the position where I could easily push my cock inside her from behind.

  “I’m taking a shower,” I say quickly, shooting up from the bed. “A cold one.”

  “No, don’t go!” she says, looking so distressed it tugs my heartstrings hard and makes me pause a moment.

  I want to give her everything she wants, but not this—for her own damned good.

  “I have to,” I say darkly, meeting her eyes and communicating as clearly as I can the danger she’s in.

  She seems to understand as her eyes drop to my raging erection.

  “Okay,” she says with a reluctance I don’t miss but have to ignore.

  I take off toward the shower, then set it to cold.

  Courtney has slipped her bathrobe back on, hiding away half of herself from me, but she still has a satisfied glow about her as she lies on her back with her hands behind her head, gazing at the roof and looking pleased.

  “What are you smiling at?” I say as I approach the dresser, intending to throw on a T-shirt and a new pair of boxers.

  “We’re getting out of here,” she says happily.

  Her words stab me, but before I can process my reaction properly, the billionaire’s distorted voice fills the room.

  “What makes you think that?” it asks.

  Courtney sits up, springing to attention like a rat trap, her face quickly morphing from relaxed pleasure to tense alert.

  “Because we did it. You said we had to find release with each other and we did. We fulfilled your terms!”

  “I said you had to fuck each other.”

  “But oral sex is sex!”

  “Nice try, Courtney. As much as I enjoyed your eager performances, I think I have been pretty clear from the beginning we’re not dealing with technicalities or loopholes. Do not act like you don’t know what I meant by fucking—being a virgin doesn’t excuse you. But I’ll play along—since you’re having trouble understanding my words, Courtney, let me break it down for you clearly: Dustin’s erect cock needs to end up buried inside your pussy until one or both of you come from the friction of it sliding in and out of your tight, virginal hole. Got it?”

  Great, my cock is swelling again at the picture this guy painted.

  “While we’re here,” he continues, “I must inform you that you have failed to fulfill my terms on time. You just had the chance and you blew it, and now your one-hundred-and-sixty-eight hours is up. The difficulty level increases after dinner.”

  With that, a gas fills the room.

  We know what this means, and this time, for the first time ever, Courtney reaches out her hand to me.

  I walk over to her and take it, and she urges me to get on the bed with her, to lie down next to her.

  Considering what’s happening to us at the moment, she’s in no danger now.

  The first thing I notice when I come to is that dinner has been served.

  As usual, unseen cleaners have come in and collected old discarded clothing somehow, and ghost catering has hooked us up.

  Either our kidnapper is really happy with us or he’s setting us up for a fall because this is the best dinner layout we’ve had so far—steaks cooked to perfection, potatoes, vegetables. Even dessert—a chocolate cake and some strawberry thing.

  Courtney starts waking up next to me, but I hear another groan, one from further away.

  That’s when I notice the two of us are no longer alone—there’s a guy in the corner, looking sort of how Courtney looked on the first day—freshly dumped and disoriented.

  I remain still, waiting for the guy’s eyes to open.

  When they do, he looks around somewhat frantically, his eyes locking with mine and looking on the verge of saying something when Courtney says in a groggy voice, “Brick?”

  Part II

  “The difficulty level increases after dinner.”

  Voice

  7

  Brick

  I admit—when Courtney didn’t show up for our date, I was a little peeved.

  Okay, a lot peeved.

  But I thought she’d just forgotten, so eventually, after being unable to reach her that evening, I carried on my business, a little relieved that I could do what I’d wanted to do that evening instead anyway and hang out with my friend, Andrew.

  I left all sorts of messages throughout the evening for her, and after no word in return, I figured when she was ready to get back to me, she would.

  But she didn’t even call later that n
ight.

  Still, I figured maybe she was ticked about something I didn’t pick up on and was punishing me. Chicks get mad at you all of a sudden for something and expect you to be a mindreader.

  At some point, I tried to figure out what could have ticked her off.

  Maybe it was that I didn’t insist on picking her up—either myself in the convertible or by sending a car for her. Or maybe it was that we hadn’t had sex yet, even though she made it pretty clear she was waiting until her wedding night.

  Which got me thinking—maybe she was expecting me to propose and was mad that I hadn’t done it yet and was forcing me to imagine life without her.

  Or maybe she finally wanted me to return the favor a few blowjobs in, but I’m not into that.

  The next day I called her mom, and even her parents hadn’t heard from her. Neither had her friends.

  By the third day, I knew something was wrong for sure, and her parents started freaking out, filing a missing person report after grilling me.

  Sheesh, her dad looked like he was going to kill me. I don’t know why they’d think I’d have any reason to harm her, but I do understand the people closest to the victim are usually the first suspects, the most likely to be involved.

  The days sort of blurred together after that, but now here I am, and there she is in a lacy red number next to some buff dude.

  I think I’m in a dream for a moment, but it soon becomes clear that it’s all real—I now have some sort of idea where Courtney’s been the past few days, and it looks like she’s been away on some sort of dirty rendezvous.

  I understand having a dude on the side to get her freak on, but part of this picture isn’t making sense.

  For example, why the hell am I here then, if they’re supposed to be secret lovers?

  Did someone want to out her infidelity to me so badly that they arranged for me to see what she’s been up to with my own eyes? Why? Who the hell would care that much about us?

  “What the hell is going on here?” I say sharply in my mind, but the words come out drowsy and unintelligible and I sound like a drooling toddler.