Chapter 15 – Amanda
Fifteen
Amanda
E than doesn't stop staring at me with brutal, penetrating eyes. I have to meet his gaze because it's the only source of power I have between the two of us now. Whatever weaknesses I work out about his psyche are useless to me in the bedroom where he's keeping me now. He wants to quit gambling and if I can hack into that part of his brain wired for pleasure... I have a shot at controlling him. But it's just a shot.
"My back's against the wall," he says. "Only natural for me to look for a loophole."
"I suspect you will survive without putting your tongue... you know where."
"Some women might be curious."
"About what?"
I'm wasting time talking to this man. I should be looking for a baseball bat and making an excuse to access the internet so I can research how the fuck you can get away with clubbing a man twice your size. Rational thought has left the chat. It's just me and Ethan, standing in a bedroom, dancing around his obvious attraction to me.
Attraction that I do not experience towards him. It takes a lot more than a chiseled body and giant penis to get my attention. I've seen it all and hot men aren't worth a damn if they stress you the fuck out. Ethan has fired a nuke at my nervous system. I'm not even the slightest bit intrigued.
That would have been the old me. The woman who’d had her heart broken by "situationships" long after a grown ass woman ought to be using that word in the first place. Healed-Amanda has no space in her heart for bad boys with big dicks.
"Some women might be curious about if I could eat their pussy the way I say I can."
"Sounds like a pretty big risk. I'll go without ever finding out."
He chuckles. "Then how do you plan to distract me from gambling?"
"I could introduce you to the Bible."
"Bible's back in Missouri," he says. "Now get your ass in bed."
"Promise you won't bring up any more filthy subjects or I'll sleep on the floor."
Ethan's face becomes stern and stubborn. He's in for a fight if he thinks that stubborness will work on me.
"I can't promise without it being a lie," he says. "I either think about your sweet ass nipples or... my next parlay."
"Ethan. No more parlays. Climb into bed and I'll tell you a bedtime story that has nothing to do with my... body parts."
A flush spreads through me as I dare to acknowledge his comments. He agrees to climb into bed. I slide under the covers and just like before, he gets on top of the covers. I relax slightly.
He's just messing around. I have to convince myself that's the case to get calm enough to fall asleep. Ethan sighs, his chest rising like a gigantic loaf of sourdough. I look over at him, briefly considering the effort it would take to suffocate him. Not to kill him or anything, just enough to knock him out.
It would be useless. He could throw me across the room with one hand on some Super Saiyan shit.
"Bedtime story," Ethan mutters. "You promised."
But you didn't promise.
I glance over at him, watching his eyes flutter shut. His breathing is fully conscious, possibly hyper conscious of me. As he stops talking to listen to my voice, the room grows quiet. Peaceful. It feels like I'm laying up talking to a boyfriend, which is incredibly dangerous right now.
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, educated black woman who lived in Boston."
"Did she have a nice ass?" Ethan interrupts. His eyes are closed. I could give his throat a good poke. The pleasure of disabling him for a few seconds would last until he ended my life, I'm sure of it.
"Yes," I respond, struggling to conceal my irritation with this impossibly horny beast. "She had a nice ass. But she also had murderous tendencies."
"Mm..."
I ignore that deep-throated growl. And the sensation it causes.
"Unfortunately, she was a very unlucky woman. While working her dream job, a dangerous criminal kidnapped her."
I pause, awaiting an interjection that never comes, before I continue. "This man had struggles of his own. He could be just as protective as he was violent. He had an insatiable hunger for more that he tried to satisfy with lust... and gambling."
Ethan shifts uncomfortably. I'm getting in his head.
"But life wasn't that simple. If we could satisfy that urge for something more with hedonistic pleasures, we wouldn't have to keep chasing those highs. Life is just a little bit deeper than gambling. Or lust."
"Hm..." Ethan mutters, his grunting more frustrated than pensive.
"To earn her freedom, the beautiful woman promised the dangerous criminal that she could fix him. After all, she has a habit of fixing broken things."
He's quiet. The room is quiet. And my body is so dangerously close to this man's.
"There was just one problem," I whisper. "At her age, she learned the hard way that broken men can't be fixed unless they want to fix themselves. No amount of withholding, begging, pleading or trying to force a man to change will work. Especially not with a dangerous man like this one."
"Not much happening in your story."
"Not yet," I whisper, although I don't know why I say it. Etha's eyes flutter open and this time, the way he looks at me freezes me in place. It's not fair. I'm the one getting under his skin. He's not the one getting under mine.
"Maybe she can fix this one," he says. "And that's how it works. Life throws us in front of people we can't fix to get us ready for someone who... desperately needs fixing. And wants it."
"I doubt that," I whisper. "They're both pretty stubborn. And she promised herself a long time ago that she wouldn't try fixing a man again."
"Someone broke her heart," Ethan says. The game is over. We both know exactly who we're talking about, which makes this conversation more vulnerable than any I've had in a while. It's one thing sitting in that therapist's chair and another thing entirely lying side by side with a man who represents all your biggest fears.
"Yes," I reply. "Many someones. So many that she lost count. All she knows is that it's going to happen and it usually happens right after a man gets what he wants."
Ethan chuckles. "Well, that wouldn't happen with me."
How many times have I heard that before?
"You're different," I respond, overemphasizing my sarcastic tone.
"Yes," he says. "I'm careful with my women, which is why I haven't had one in over seven years. It's why I'm thirty-seven with no children. It's why I know if I put my hands on you, I would be downright addicted and I'm okay with it."
I want to blame Ethan for everything, but I don't protest as he rolls his body over mine and pins me beneath the blankets with my arms at my side. He smells good after getting clean and the soap mixes with his natural scent. If he weren't my kidnapper, I would face extreme temptation to push my nose into his neck and just... feel how good it is to have a big sexy man on top of me who wants to be there.
He pushes the wet curls that fell out of my sleep braids away from my forehead and... he kisses me. I shudder and my eyes flutter closed. His kiss sends a thrill through me and if I look at him, I'll have to acknowledge that the man pressing his body on mine is... my kidnapper.
I'm letting my kidnapper kiss me and send thrills of pleasure to parts of me I want to deny.
"You smell good," he whispers. "But I won't fuck you tonight, doctor."
My pussy gets instantly wet when he calls me "doctor". It's not the reaction I expected, but do you know how many men get insecure about my credentials? And this beast of a man calls me doctor like my education is actually... a turn on and not a threat.
It shouldn't be as rare as it is. But I can't touch him. I can't kiss him back. He won't risk rejection. He kisses my forehead again and makes one of those low grunts he made during my story.
"I need..."
He lowers his lips to mine and I part them, urging him to kiss me with what little power I have over my body beneath those covers. My heart pounds against my chest violently as Ethan's lips meet mine. No?! But, yes? I'm confused and nervous, but he pecks at my lips slowly to get me used to the idea before he starts kissing me more aggressively.
His dick immediately whacks against my thigh through his sweatpants, but Ethan doesn't change his motivations. He spreads my lips with his tongue and french kisses me in bed for a long time. I never had a man just enjoy a good kiss like that, and it gets me wet and excited in a way that I've never experienced before.
When he pulls away from me, my throat is tight and my body totally surrendered to my instincts.
All it took was a kiss. I'm scared of what this man could do to me with more than a kiss. Once he moves back from my body a little, I throw the blankets off myself. I don't even know what I'm doing.
Trying to escape? Trying to get closer? It doesn't matter. Ethan peels the blanket away from me and tosses it aside. There's even less fabric between us now and Ethan never reveals his exact intentions with his words.
I’m left to decipher what those kisses mean until he slides another kiss down to my shoulders…
Then my collar bone.
Ethan kisses me all over and doesn’t stop until he gets to the top of those rolled up sweatpants. I’ve never been in a less sexy outfit, but I’ve never felt hotter in my life.
I can’t explain it.
“I want to tongue fuck your pussy so bad,” Ethan groans, losing control over the stern, stiff white boy I spent all day with. I melt into his hands. Unintentionally, of course. He slides his hands around my hips to cup my butt cheeks and even then, I don’t make a sound in protest. I just let him grip and grab my ass with his face inches away from my mound.
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