Chapter 31
I didn’t expect to sleep, but I did. Deeply. So deeply that the sudden appearance of Tyler’s grinning face hovering over mine as he straddles my body becomes just part of yet another dream in a long sequence of dreams where I am not his captive. Where this kind of thing is a happy moment that I’ve so far only dreamed about and hoped for.
I close my eyes fully, anticipating a sweet good morning kiss.
Instead, he grabs my wrists and brings my arms over my head. “Rise and shine, princess.”
His voice is not something that belongs in a dream. Maybe a nightmare. The chain rattles and then my arms are bound again, this time to the headboard.
The look in his eyes tells me he’s in bad need of some sleep. The fields of ice in them are barren, windy, desolate, and deserted. No sun can touch them.
I shiver despite the room actually being very warm.
“Why do you have to tie me up?” I ask. “You already have me locked up in an old house in the middle of nowhere.”
His lips turn up into a sinister sort of grin. His Cheshire cat grin. Full of malice and an enticing promise of danger. Why does my traitorous body react with desire when it should be fear? Why?
“So I can do this,” he says and rips the front of my dress open, buttons flying then rapping against the hardwood floor. They sound like fat raindrops hitting the windowsill in my apartment right before a storm whooshes in, bringing thunder and lighting.
I wanted him to see me naked. I wanted to get naked with him. But not like this.
And yet, his icy gaze as it travels over my naked, heaving breasts and taut stomach leaves fire in its wake. Fire that also makes my pussy react in a way it hasn’t to a man yet, pangs of need pulsing, awakening something deep in my core.
“Why don’t we get rid of these too,” he says and slides down my panties. Another thing I wanted to happen. Just not like this.
He had to get off me to do it and I miss his weight on top of me. It’s a terrible thing to think in the wake of realizing how horribly wrong all my fantasies of this moment are going.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Eden,” he says, his voice strained and breathless. “It’s almost a shame to waste you.”
“Then don’t,” I say. “None of this has to happen. You had me.”
He looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. “Had? It looks to me like I still have you right now.”
“You’ll never have me like this.” I force myself to look away from his eyes, up at the ceiling, which is crisscrossed by thin black lines. The plaster up there is cracking badly. Just like everything else about my dreams for him and me.
“Your mouth says that, but your body says something completely different.”
He runs his fingers down the side of my throat, gently across my erect nipple and across my stomach stopping just shy of my mound. But not before I sigh and raise my hips in anticipation. An electric shock has nothing on the searing heat his fingers left in their wake.
He chuckles. “See, I told you.”
I turn my head away so he won’t see me blush.
“Let’s try that again,” he says.
This time he uses both hands. I manage not to react in any way. But it’s hard.
He clicks his tongue and twists both my erect nipples at the same time. I moan loudly and turn my head to stare at him with what I’m sure is a very murderous look.
He chuckles. “Did that make you mad because you liked it?”
“You make me mad,” I say. “Everything about you pisses me off, and especially these sick plans you have for me. So laugh all you want. You’re never getting what you want from me. And that’s a promise.”
“Such fighting words. When all you actually want is more of this.”
He slides his thumb across my lips as he pinches my nipple again with his other hand. I try not to react, but I can’t stifle my moan. I only just barely managed not to lick his thumb.
“See?” he says and laughs again, this time parting my lips with his thumb and leaning so low over me that all I can see are his lips. Which I want on mine. And on my nipples and my pussy.
He’s hard. His cock is throbbing as it presses into my side and the thought of it replacing his finger in my mouth is quickly becoming an unbearable wish. He’s about to kiss me and I want it so bad the rest of my mind is just a very thick fog, easily obscuring the horrific reality of what is actually happening here.
He moves his lips away instead of towards mine and I can’t stifle the moan of disappointment.
“Or maybe you actually want some of this.” His voice is hoarse and breathless like maybe he’s struggling with some fog in his brain too.
He removes his thumb from between my lips and runs it down my center, this time not stopping when he reaches my pussy. Sparks fly, inside my body and all around, as his thumb caresses my clit. I sigh and moan and can’t stop as he traces its line up and down. He’s barely touching yet even this little bit is too much.
I should be fighting. I should be cursing him out. I should at least be lying perfectly still and ignoring him. Instead, I’m sighing and moaning and moving my pussy closer to his too gentle touch.
“Told you,” he says, even those two little words seemingly hard for him to say.
I don’t say anything, because I’m afraid my stupid, weird and crazy mouth will just make me beg for more.
His breathing grows deeper as he intensifies his slow tracing of the line of my clit. The sparks of pleasure his touch is causing are now running together into a glowing pool deep inside me. If my hands were free, I’d help him along. If my hands were free, I’d be begging for more. But I am his prisoner, and this is not how it’s supposed to be.
Why does it have to feel so good?
He starts tracing slow circles over my clit, applying more pressure then less, then more again. He’s trying not to breathe hoarsely just as hard as I’m trying not to moan and sigh and ram my pussy into his hand.
I will orgasm if he keeps this up. If I don’t stop him. I will come all over his hand and then he’ll know all my words before were just talk.
I try to move away from his hand. But that just makes him chuckle again and add his other fingers to the mix. He slides just the tip of his index finger into my pussy, and I open for him, push against his hand, my body demanding more even if I won’t let my voice speak it.
“You like this,” he says and slides more of his finger in, making me sigh and moan.
“How about this?”
He adds a second finger and somehow manages to hit that building pool of sparkling pleasure, disturbing it, causing waves of pleasure I can’t fight against. I can only moan.
But I won’t admit it. My body might be betraying me completely right now, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of telling him how much I like this.
He pumps his fingers into and out, causing more waves, deeper moans, louder sighs. But no words.
“You’re so tight,” he says in a low, throaty voice. “You sure you’ve done this before?”
Not like this!
But I won’t admit that. I won’t even look at him. Everything is soft and fuzzy anyway, except his fingers assaulting my pussy and bringing me more pleasure than I ever thought possible. My whole body is filled with that golden liquid of bliss that his fingers are stirring. Soon I won’t be able to hold it all in anymore. Soon he’ll make me come and then he’ll know exactly how much I like this. That can’t happen!
A few more strokes is all it takes. Then the waves of sparkling bliss take me under, my body shaking with the kind of pleasure that makes me forget everything else about how wrong this is for a few glorious moments. The orgasm leaves my chest heaving, my breaths escaping as tiny moans and my cheeks burning in shame.
I’ve never come so hard before. And he barely touched me. The things he could do to me… The things I yearn for him to do to me… the things I could do to him. They’d fill a whole saga.
But all that’s part of another life. Another dream. Even if this mind-blowing orgasm is very much a part of this one.
“What? You still got nothing to say?” he asks as he removes his fingers, making me wish that the other dream could somehow miraculously merge with this one.
“Isn’t this what you want?” I ask, my breathing still not quite under control. “To have me at your mercy, submissively taking what you have to give?”
I look at him as I say it, expecting another cocky grin, maybe a laugh. The shock I do see there is not something I’d expect in a million years.
“Why don’t you just rape me while you’re here,” I add when he doesn’t say anything. “You know, get it over with already.”
He stands up, that shock still on his face. And his eyes look like a blizzard just hit those desolate icy plains. Not sure what to make of that.
“I think you need some time alone to think,” he says. “Then maybe you’ll stop talking nonsense.”
And with that, he strides out of the room, leaving me chained to the bed in this dark room, naked, my blood still sparkling from the mind-bending pleasure he gave me. Pleasure like no one’s ever given me before. Maybe no one could. Because they weren’t him.
But the cool air in the dark room soon snuffs out the last of the sparkles. And just like always, as soon as he’s gone, the reality of my situation comes crashing down on me with all its suffocating weight.
It’d be easier if he’d used the knife on me. Cut me up instead of caressing me gently… instead of making me come so hard that I’ll never forget it.
Bleeding would be easier to bear than the fact that all I want is for him to come back and do that to me all over again.