Chained to You, Vol. 1-2

by Alexia Praks

  As my mind shifted to what James's childhood was like compared to mine, my hands voluntarily rested against his naked torso. He was hard and warm and smooth. Then slowly, my fingers lightly and gently caressed his skin. Oddly enough, as I stroked him, I felt my own body glowing with delight.

  He was such a great specimen. This billionaire with too much money to throw around.

  My hands moved around to his back and continued caressing him. I smiled as I gazed up at him, pleased that he was asleep and didn't know or see me doing these embarrassing things to him--this molestation--stroking him and caressing him.

  I tilted my head back just a little and kissed him on his strong chin. I gazed at him longer as my hands continued to touch him. Then I felt bolder. He was asleep, after all, and wasn't going to know I was doing these things to him. Thus, I lowered my eyes and gazed at his nipple. He was always kissing and licking and sucking at my nipples, wasn't he? I felt awesomely wonderful when he did that to me, and I wondered what it felt like to be the one who did those things.

  I flicked my eyes back to his face for a brief second, just to confirm he was still deeply in his slumber, that he wasn't about to wake up and find me experimenting with his body, using my hands and lips and tongue.

  Noting he was still soundly deep within his slumber, I moved down a little and leaned my head forward. I gazed at his nipple for a bit, marveling at the roundness and the angle it stuck out. I didn't know a male nipple was a beauty of a thing and felt a little awed by that. I certainly had never looked at my own nipples, let alone myself, with such concentration.

  Then because I couldn't control myself any longer, I dipped my head in and kissed the bud. It didn't feel like much, just a bit of warm skin against my lips. Then I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Lightly, I licked it. Once. Twice. Thrice.

  The nipple was now glistening wet with my saliva. I moved to the other one and kissed it as well. Then I licked it, too. Once. Twice. Thrice.

  I moved back to the first one and popped it between my lips into my mouth. I started sucking it and rolling it with my tongue and then licking it and then sucking it again. When I moved back, the nipple was rosy and hard and wet.

  I turned my attention to the other one and repeated the process attentively. As I was doing that, I felt the heat growing within me. I felt my core twisting and burning with need.

  Shit! I was turned on. I was sexually molesting James in his sleep, and I was turned on.

  Oh Mother of Jesus! I couldn't help myself. I felt my whole body squirming against James as he lay there, motionless, deep in his sleep.

  I groaned as I ravished his nipple. "Mmm..."

  Oh God! I wanted to come so badly. But James was asleep. I didn't want to wake him. I certainly didn't want him to see me like this, doing this to him.

  I clung onto him as I started kissing him everywhere on his chest, my lips hot and wet and eager.

  Suddenly, he moved.

  Oh God! Have I woken him?

  I freaked out a little and froze for a brief second, waiting to see if he really was awake. But of course, the thought that my action woke him didn't dampen my urgent need or my sexual assault on his body. If anything, his new position only made my need grow even hotter.

  One of his muscular thighs had snuggled deep against me and was now resting comfortably between my legs, brushing against my panties. One of his hands rested on my chest, close to my breast.

  I couldn't help myself. I'd reached the point of no return. I squeezed my thighs against his and started rubbing myself against him. Oh God! The intimate contact felt so good.

  I moved his hand lightly into the collar of my sleep shirt--his work shirt--and rested his palm against my bare breast. I groaned and felt the burning heat growing forever more within me.

  As I continued to rub myself against him, I paid attention to his nipples once again--kissing, licking, rolling, and sucking the buds with devotion. The sexual need built inside me, spreading all over my body as I rubbed myself harder and faster against his thigh.

  I groaned. "Ngh..." As I sucked and kissed and slicked his nipples. My core was building, growing tighter and tighter, and then I came--short and sharp--as I hugged James tight against me. My body tensed as the muscles inside me contracted and twisted and burned in ecstasy.

  I was breathless once I was done and lay there against James like a dead fish. It was only a little later, when my breathing was almost back to normal, when I realized what had just happened.

  Oh my God! What had I just done? Molesting James in his sleep and using his body to satisfy my own sexual needs.

  I glanced up at the man, expecting him to open his eyes and point his finger at me, insulting me with harsh words that I was a selfish little bitch.

  He didn't, though. His sleeping face was still as serene and as handsome as ever. I felt relief sweep over me for reasons I couldn't explain. Then, as if to say thank you, which was weird, I moved up a little and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  "You've been a very good bed partner tonight, my good sir," I whispered, smiling. Then I got back to finding myself a comfortable position in his arms. Once I did, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  When next I woke up, it was to the sun shining brilliantly through the window. I moved around the bed, noting it was very spacious and rather a little cold. Then I turned around, knowing in my gut James was gone.

  I wasn't wrong at all. I stared longingly at the empty space next to me, wondering where James had gone off to. I sat, brought my knees up to my chin, and hugged myself as I continued to gaze at the empty side. My mind drifted off to last night, and a smile crept across my lips. Then just as quickly, I scowled at myself.

  You stupid girl, Mia. The small voice at the back of my head scolded me. That molestation needs to stop immediately.

  I nodded in agreement with my little voice, determined that last night was indeed going to be my very first and last time that I sexually assaulted James Maxwell during his sleep.

  It was then I moved, getting myself out of bed. Just as my feet landed on the soft carpet, I saw the note and a key card on top of the bedside table on my side of the bed. I picked up the piece of paper and read.

  Will be back before lunch. Order some breakfast. Go to the spa. Relax. Enjoy. See you soon.

  --James

  My insides glowed and melted at his words. I smiled adoringly at the beautiful handwriting. Just as quickly, however, I straightened my face, telling myself not to get so involved. Those words he'd written meant nothing other than an instruction, a command on how I should spend my morning before he returned for me.

  I rested the note back on top of the bedside table and headed to the bathroom. After cleaning myself and dressing in the dress James had bought for me yesterday, I headed into the living area, picked up the phone, and ordered some brunch, since it was after ten a.m.

  I mucked around a bit while I waited for my room service, tidying the bed and bathroom, and watching TV. When there was a knock at the door, I rushed over and open it with a big smile.

  The maid rolled the trolley into the room as I stood back and waited. Then she put a big, silver platter on top of the coffee table and asked me if I needed anything else.

  "No, thanks," I said, my eyes on the covered silver platter.

  The maid smiled and then left again.

  Once I was alone, I went straight to the tray and took the lid off. An assortment of delicious food greeted me. There were eggs benedict with crispy bacon as well as fresh fruit salad of sliced mango, papaw, apple, grapes, and pineapple. I eagerly sat down and dug in. Once I was finished some twenty minutes later, I decided to go out for a stroll. Grabbing my wallet and cell phone and, of course, the key card James had left for me, I headed out, my spirits high.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 32

  Mia

  As I stood staring at the door, waiting for it to open, I prayed Matt wasn't around. I wanted to spend time with my brother alone, withou
t that overbearing man watching our every move. We were siblings, for God's sake. Why he behaved as though Andy belonged to him was beyond me.

  Or did Andy really belong to him in some way?

  A dreadful thought struck me, and my heart raced. Oh God! What if Andy was in some sort of contract with Matt like I was with James? My body shook and a fearful groan escaped my lips.

  The door opened, and once I saw Andy, I flew into his arms and hugged him tight.

  Andy gasped in surprise. Once he realized it was me, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me.

  "I'm so glad you're still here," I said, my face snuggled against his shoulder.

  "Of course. I'm always here," he said. "Why are you so freaked out?"

  I drew back. That was Andy all right. He always saw right through me.

  He led me into the room as I said, "I thought you might have gone out to work or something." I wasn't sure what type of work it was, and I desperately wanted to find out.

  He chuckled. "Yeah, I work. But not until the afternoon."

  I dreaded this. "What type of work do you do?"

  He was vague, as though he didn't really want to tell me. "This and that." He smiled cheekily, and I was once again struck by how gorgeous my brother was.

  I came to sit down on the sofa and frowned at him. "What is this and that?"

  He sat beside me and looked down at the coffee table, his brown eyes intense. "Mostly, I work as a waiter. The private club section."

  "They have private clubs here?" I asked, wondering what that was.

  He chuckled. "Yeah. The pay is very good."

  The sound of very good pay for a waiter had me suspicious. "It's not dangerous, is it?"

  Andy flicked his eyes to me for a brief second and then lowered them again. "No."

  My stomach dropped. Shit! I knew he was lying. I knew Andy too well. But how could a job as a waiter be dangerous?

  "Andy, you're really a waiter, aren't you?" I couldn't keep the tremor from surfacing within my voice. The thought of him doing anything remotely dangerous scared me. We'd been through enough of that shit to last us a lifetime.

  He shrugged. "I am a waiter, Mia." He confirmed adamantly. "Now stop pestering me about my career. I know it's a bullshit job. But I'm working on it. When I'm out of this mess, I promise I'll go to college and study business and, you know, really change my life."

  "How long will that take?" I asked, staring at him long and hard. I knew Andy could do it. He was intelligent. He had very good marks back in high school, jumping grades and everything. He even landed himself a scholarship. If only certain shit didn't happen with Uncle Herbert, destroying his self-esteem, then he would have been a college graduate by now and working in a proper company, earning a steady living. Maybe even with a nice girl to settle down with.

  "I don't know. Maybe another three to four years," he said.

  I smiled at him. "Are you looking forward to it?"

  He looked a little lost at my question. He glanced away, and I saw the slight panic in his eyes. "I... I don't know."

  I frowned. Surely, he must be looking forward to a better future?

  "You do want to leave this type of life, right?" I glanced around the place, and thought actually, this was quite nice. The room, I meant.

  I used that to encourage him. "Imagine this as your own place and not Matt's."

  He smiled. "Yeah. That bastard. I'm going to get me a place like this myself, just to show him I can do it. Just to show him I mean business."

  I laughed. "That would be so wonderful, Andy. You'll have a room for me when I come to visit, yeah?"

  He pulled me into his arms and chuckled. "Are you kidding me? Visiting? No way. You're staying with me, sis. Once I get to that stage, you'll quit that pathetic job of yours and will be living with me."

  I snorted. "What about your girlfriend or wife or whatever?"

  I watched him closely and saw the dark look in his eyes again. "I'm not interested in that, Mia."

  I licked my lips and nodded. "I guess you want to get your life sorted out first. I understand. I'd do the same. It's easier, isn't it?"

  He sighed. "No, that's not what I mean. I'm never going to get me a wife. Or a girlfriend for that matter."

  "Huh?" I sat up and stared at him.

  "Do you hate me, Mia?" he asked, desperation in his voice.

  My heart ached for him. I didn't know what he meant, but regardless of what it was, I'd always support him.

  "I'd never hate you, Andy. You're my brother," I said, hugging him tight.

  He stroked my back and nodded. "Thanks, sis. You're awesome." He leaned back and frowned. "And why the hell are you wearing such a big shirt?"

  I smiled and shrugged. "Would you believe me if I told you a very tiny canine destroyed most of my clothes I brought along with me? Followed by a humongous canine who likes to rip my clothes for fun?"

  He blinked and then burst out laughing. "What the hell!" He continued laughing merrily, and I loved that. I loved it when he laughed with such abandonment, as if he didn't have a care in the world. In a way, it signified to me that life for him was good, and I was happy and relieved.

  Once he managed to stop, he said, "We have the worst of luck, eh? You and I?"

  I agreed by nodding.

  Andy stood. "Come on. Take that off. I'll lend you my shirt. At least we're pretty close in size."

  "No, that's okay," I said, blushing. The reason I didn't want to take off the shirt was because of the bruises on my body, and also, I couldn't bear to part with James's shirt. I'd come to like it so very much.

  Andy caught my wrist and pulled me up to him. "We're siblings, Mia. I know we're not the same gender, but what the heck? Better you wear my shirt than that humongous thing. It looks like you're drowning in it."

  It was true. I looked ridiculous. I burst out laughing. "You're right."

  "See?" Andy confirmed. Then he led me around the coffee table toward the walk-in-wardrobe on the other side nearer the bathroom and bed.

  Inside, I gasped at how immaculate the place was. Expensive, sleek suits, shirts, and pants hung neatly on the hangers. Ties were folded and placed in their slots. Gosh. Talk about a neat freak. Everything was clean and sleek and just so OCD.

  "Wow! It's very immaculate in here," I commented.

  "I keep my side nice and tidy, too" Andy said, drawing my attention to him. "You know me."

  Yes, I knew my brother. He liked his place clean and tidy, like me. But not to the extreme like this, and I knew it was Matt. I should call him Matt the clean freak! Or Matt the control freak! Matt the OCD freak!

  "But, you know, sometimes I mess it up just to piss him off," he said, a hint of teasing in his voice. "And it really pissed him off." I noted he was shuddering slightly, and a smile crept across his lips.

  "What type of relationship do you have with Matt?" I couldn't help asking. They were sharing a place and a wardrobe. And Matt certainly did not treat Andy like his friend.

  James and Matt? Yes, they were definitely friends. But not Andy with Matt. There was something else, deeper and weirder, between the two that I couldn't put my finger on.

  I watched Andy as his hands paused on one of the shirts. There was a long silence, as though he were struggling with the answer himself.

  I felt uncomfortable. I loved Andy, but his relationships with other people were his business, not mine. I felt like I'd just overstepped my boundary and worked to rectify myself.

  "I'm sorry, Andy. You don't need to answer that question."

  "No," he said quietly. "That's not it." Another pause and then, "I don't know. I don't know what our relationship is."

  He sighed deeply and unhooked that particular shirt. It was a light-blue and-dark gray checked shirt. He handed it to me and then proceeded to find me a pair of jeans.

  "Andy, no need for the jeans. Just the shirt will do."

  He glanced at me and shook his head. "With that short dress, you're way too tempting for those lousy
men on the streets, Mia. You don't understand men. You're too innocent, living in such a small town where no one knows you exist. I was innocent, too. Until I came here."

  He grabbed a pair of jeans from a slot in the corner and handed them over to me. "Here, change."

  I took the offered pants and nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Andy."

  He chuckled. "No problem."

  I began to undo the button as he turned. He was about to head out the door when he stopped in his tracks and just stared at me. He looked sick.

  "What's wrong?" I asked. "Andy?"

  He didn't say a word, just grabbed my wrist and pealed the material of my shirt over my chest.

  "What the hell?" he swore, his eyes dark.

  I was confused and turned my eyes to look down at myself. There was a dark bruise on my chest and lower, too, still covered by the shirt. Shit! I thought in dread. I knew this would happen. I knew Andy would react when he saw the bruises.

  Oh, when we had been living under Uncle Herbert's reign, he'd seen enough bruises on me to last both our lives. That was why he'd vowed to protect me, whatever may come, even putting himself in the firing line. That was why he never wanted to see another bruise on me ever again.

  Andy undid the rest of the buttons and took the shirt off me. With only my bra on, he twisted me around to examine me closely. I was more than a little shocked by his aggressive treatment.

  "Andy! What the hell are you doing?"

  He growled. "How the hell did you get all these bruises?" he asked through gritted teeth.

  Well, what could I tell him? That I'd gotten those bite marks and bruises from James during our lovemaking sessions? No way!

  "Mia? Tell me who the fuck hurt you!" He demanded.

  I bit my lip and stammered, "No one hurt me, Andy. It's fine."

  He raked his hand through his hair in frustration. "Fuck me!"

  I was pissed, too. "Andy, you never use that type of language."