20. Colton
Chapter 20
Colton
T he bunker is a fortress of solitude, a place where I can keep her safe, keep her mine. I lead Mary through the corridors, my hand gripping hers tightly, as if she might disappear if I let go. Her fingers are cold, but her palm is sweaty, a telling sign of her nervousness. It sends a thrill through me, knowing that I have this effect on her.
Every room we pass, every corner we turn, I can feel my obsession growing. She’s here, in my space, surrounded by my things. She’s a part of my world now, and I’ll do anything to keep her here.
I show her the bedroom which is soft, warm, and inviting. The bed is large, dominating the room, a silent promise of what’s to come. I can see her tense, her eyes darting around, taking it all in. She’s trying to hide her unease, but I can see right through her. It’s intoxicating, this power I have over her.
I step back into the corridor, closing the door behind me with a firm push. The lock clicks into place, a sound that reverberates through the bunker and sends a thrill coursing through my veins.
The air in the bunker seems to shift, becoming denser, heavier with the weight of my actions. I can almost taste the power in the atmosphere, a bitter tang that lingers on my tongue. The scent of the room clings to my nostrils—a mix of musty air and the faint remnants of old perfume—and it intensifies, grounding me in the reality of what I’ve done.
My excitement builds, a growing heat that spreads from my core outward, making my skin feel alive and electric. Every nerve ending is on fire, responding to the thrill of having her locked away, completely at my mercy. The thought of her, trapped and helpless, sends a wave of satisfaction through me. It’s a feeling I can’t resist, a high that I crave.
I take a deep breath, savoring the moment before turning away from the door. The sound of my footsteps echoes down the hallway, each step a reminder of the control I now possess. The anticipation of what’s to come courses through me, a heady mix of excitement and dominance.
“Colton!” she shouts from inside the room, panic edging her voice.
I smile, a predatory grin that I know would unnerve her even more if she could see it. “It’s for your own good,” I call out, my voice a low rumble. “Wouldn’t want you getting lost.”
I leave her to explore the room while I head to the kitchen. The bags from the store are still on the counter, waiting to be unpacked. I methodically lay out the contents—food, drinks, and the clothes I bought for her. I imagined her in each piece, her body hugged by the fabric, her curves on display for me and me alone. It’s basic shit, but I know she can make anything look good.
The cupboard to my right holds a secret stash of Rohypnol tucked away behind the cans of food. I smile to myself, imagining the possibilities. With her unconscious, I can do whatever I want, explore every inch of her body without resistance. The thought sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
I hum to myself as I put away the groceries, my mind filled with images of Mary, vulnerable and helpless, completely at my mercy. The power I have over her is intoxicating.
While keeping her safe, of course.
But first, I need to clean up. I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a heap on the bathroom floor as I step into the shower. The hot water cascades over my body, washing away the grime and sweat of the day. But it does nothing to wash away the darkness inside me, the twisted desire that burns like a wildfire.
I close my eyes, my hand wrapping around my cock as I stroke myself, slowly at first, then faster, harder. I imagine her here with me, her body slick with soap, her hands exploring every inch of me. I imagine her on her knees, her lips wrapped around me, her eyes looking up at me with a mix of fear and desire. The fantasy is so vivid that I can almost feel her here, the warmth of her breath, the softness of her touch. It’s intoxicating, and I lose myself in the moment, my body tensing as I reach my climax. I let out a low groan, the sound echoing in the small, tiled room. The release is powerful, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough; I need more.
I need her.
I step out of the shower, water dripping from my body as I grab a towel and roughly dry myself. The mirror reflects a man driven by obsession, eyes wild and hungry. I barely recognize myself, but I don’t care. I embrace this version of me, the one who takes what he wants, who controls and possesses.
Dressed in clean clothes, I make my way back to the kitchen. I grab a beer from the fridge, the cold bottle sweating in my hand as I take a long swig. The bitter taste grounds me, bringing me back to the present, to my reality. To Mary.
I hear muffled sounds coming from the bedroom, the rustle of fabric, the creak of the bed. She’s settling in, making this space hers. The thought both excites and infuriates me. I want her to be comfortable, but I also want her to understand that this is my domain.
I take another sip of my beer, setting it down on the counter with a thud. I need to see her. I need to be in the same room as her, to breathe the same air. Grabbing the new clothes I bought her, I walk back to the bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest with each step. The lock disengages with a loud click, and I push open the door.
She’s sitting on the bed, her back straight, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance. Her hair is damp, clinging to her face and neck, evidence of her own shower. Her dirty clothes sit in a pile at her feet. The sight of her, fresh and clean, in my space, sends a wave of desire crashing through me. I toss the dress at her and smile.
“Wear this. How are you finding your new...accommodations?” I ask, my voice a low rumble. I lean against the doorframe, my eyes scanning her, taking in every detail of her appearance. I want to memorize her like this, in this moment, when she’s vulnerable and uncertain yet still holds that spark of defiance in her eyes.
“Colton,” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a steel undertone to it. “You can't keep me here. This...this is wrong.”
She reaches for the dress and slides it over her head, and I nod my approval.
I chuckle, a sound that comes out dark and menacing. “Wrong?” I push off from the door frame, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her. “This isn’t wrong, Mary. This is right. This is where you belong. With me.”
She shrinks back slightly as I approach, but her eyes never leave mine. She’s wary, like a cornered animal, but there’s a strength in her gaze that sends a thrill through me. I want to break that strength, to see it crumble before me. I want her to surrender completely.
I reach out, my hand cupping her cheek. Her skin is soft, cool to the touch. I can feel her tense under my hand, but she doesn’t pull away. “You’re mine, Mary,” I murmur, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”
She takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, drawing my eyes to the neckline of her dress. I can see the pulse point at the base of her throat, beating rapidly. It’s intoxicating, that visible sign of her fear, her anxiety. I want to lean in, to press my lips against that pulse, to feel her life force throbbing under my touch.
“Colton,” she says again, her voice firmer this time. “You need to let me go. This isn’t love, this is...obsession.”
I smile a cold, humorless smile. “Love, obsession,” I shrug, “What’s the difference? They both consume you; both make you do things you never thought you would.”
She stares at me before shaking her head.
My, my, she is defiant.
I’ll just have to show her how much she means to me.