Chapter 6 – Delphine
Chapter Six
Delphine
M y choices here are limited. My mind slips into survival mode.
I lose all my abilities to think about fighting my way out.
Flight doesn’t take hold either. My body sinks into a deeper, more primal state as every inch of me freezes and becomes utterly compliant with Luigi, hoping very consciously that going along with his cruel demands right now will ensure my survival later.
The terror sits deep in my stomach, like a heavy dinner.
My legs drag across the ground slowly as I sit on the edge of this monster’s bed.
I don’t know how I ever thought a six-foot-five monster with muscles all over was attractive when he first walked into the bar.
There’s such a thing as too pretty. My mind is throwing ideas at a wall.
Everything bounces back against my consciousness, absolutely drowning me in a neurotransmitter cocktail that threatens to nuclear launch me into a coma.
I’m sure whatever that woman slipped into my drink earlier didn’t help.
I was out for a long time. Or was I? I don’t remember and that pit feels even more terrifying than the beast in front of me.
“Get under the covers,” he snarls at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t touch you. I just need to sleep and I don’t want to solve this problem until tomorrow.”
When my legs won’t move, he scoops them up and practically tosses me back onto the bed.
My chest tightens with terror and no air comes in.
I know I shouldn’t allow that feeling to make me panic more, but nothing in my life right now is in my control.
This man is big enough to squash me with his fingers and if that’s an exaggeration, he’s big enough to squeeze the life out of me with his giant arms around my neck.
I shiver and despite all my fear, my instincts push me to protect myself.
I slide beneath the covers and instantly a shudder of comfort surges through me, quickly removed by Luigi the giant sliding underneath the covers on the other side of the bed.
He moves slowly, lumbering across the room exactly the way a giant would before ripping you apart limb from limb.
He pauses before the bed and slides his pants over his ass and thick, muscular thighs before they fall to the ground.
Then he climbs into bed and everything good I felt for that split second vanishes.
My fear only intensifies when Luigi exhales slowly to relax himself from his exhausting day of drugging and kidnapping me, and his release sounds like a wolf snarling in the dark before biting your leg off.
It’s more like a growl than a breath and the difference in size between us becomes more dramatic lying down.
I want to cry or scream, but my body won’t allow me to do either.
My only choice is submitting completely to Luigi’s intentions for me, which according to that contract are sick, depraved and very permanent.
“You’re panicking,” he snaps at me after a few minutes of me peacefully trying to sleep while he breathes heavily.
“No. I am not.” I strain to say each word without betraying my total lack of control over any part of my body. Why wouldn’t I panic? I’m in bed with a predator who is naked from the waist down beside me.
“Relax,” he mutters. “I’m tired. I don’t have the energy to fuck you, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
His need to repeat that he doesn’t want me over and over again is getting tiring, honestly.
“You could always fall asleep first.”
“No,” he whispers. “Not until you’re asleep.”
I don’t remember what I say to him after. I fall asleep. I don’t think his command had anything to do with it. I couldn’t take the fear anymore and my body responded by protecting me and my conscious mind the way it knew how to best.
Intense warmth against my back wakes me up. The spot of heat grows more intense and spreads from the middle of my back to my hips. I shudder and try to move away from the warmth, but instead of moving my body remains limp and stuck against… a mattress?
I don’t know where I am for a few seconds. I connect the warmth and the mattress, but the rest of the night takes a few seconds to “load” into my brain with every half-memory of what happened before. I can’t move because he has his arm around me and the warm thing pressing against my back is…
It’s a grown man’s hard dick.
He moves behind me and as I grow conscious, I become profoundly aware of Luigi’s arm wrapped around me and his hips cradling mine as he spoons me.
He’s not suffocating me. He’s cuddling me.
I move my hips back a little — just to see what he does — and he tightens his grip on me just a little while moving his hips to meet my ass cheeks.
What the hell did I just do?
Pressing my butt back against his dick stimulates him to be much more awake than I want or need this man to be right now.
Something warm and wet presses against my neck.
I squirm instinctively to escape him before I even know what it is or what he’s doing.
Then I feel the warmth again and realize…
he’s kissing me. Softly. Slowly. Gently.
I don’t want to move, because the last time a man kissed me like that…
well, he ended up screwing a friend of mine on my couch.
So I have mixed emotions about the situation to say the least. Luigi’s tongue darts out of his mouth and has the audacity to land on one of my sweet spots.
I’m too busy suffocating my real reaction to protest outwardly.
He continues kissing me and my body responds with alertness and excitement.
This feels new, although extremely dangerous.
And in that sense, there’s my body’s instinctive desire to feel hopeful and positive about my circumstances, even if the logical part of my brain catches up.
The logical part of my brain forces my elbow to thud back into Luigi’s firm, toned chest to push him away from me.
I don’t think he registers the force of my elbow, because not only do I feel like the one physically hurt, his kissing only grows more intense as this strange, diabolical ass kidnapper of a man gets turned on and encouraged by my efforts to push him off of me.
“What?” He murmurs. “That doesn’t feel good?”
He knows what he’s doing.
I fight him off more intensely, this time employing swift kicks to the middle of his legs and more force than before with my elbow.
Luigi shifts from gentle kissing to immediate physical domination.
He flips me completely onto my back and while I have the wind knocked out of me, he slides his body out from under the covers and over mine, so at least we have the covers between us — not like that stops me from feeling the large swelling cock between his legs growing harder…
I fight against his grip on my wrists, but that only excites Luigi.
He shifts his hips in excitement and tries to force my gaze to meet his using impossibly blue eyes.
We must have slept all night together without him touching me.
There’s way too much sunlight pouring into the bedroom window behind Luigi for me to meet his gaze, not like that stops him from trying for a bit.
I almost wish he doesn’t stop because he lowers his head to my neck and bites down on me with a possessive urgency that grips my heart and forces it to throb uncontrollably in my chest.
“We both signed the contract,” he whispers. “It’s been a long time for me. This could be good for both of us.”
How did he become less logical with more sobriety?
I try to kick him again but I only end up spreading my legs beneath the covers and allowing Luigi to rest his big hard dick against the blankets between us.
I can feel the texture of his enormous shaft through the bedsheets as he presses into me.
It’s the clearest sign that he craves more closeness.
The uncontrollable parts of his body are pressing through the sheets and… I still want escape.
My general physical reactions in a man’s presence are only one side to this equation. The rest is pure terror and humiliation as Luigi, the man who proclaimed his lack of attraction for me kisses and licks my neck.
Because it’s easy for him. Because he drugged and kidnapped me. Because he has some crazy ass contract to get me pregnant…
“I lied,” he murmurs. “I obviously lied…”
He kisses my neck gently this time and he must know these soft kisses are what makes it much easier to control me.
I whimper and try to move away from him, but only seem to give Luigi the impression that I love what he’s doing to me.
I whimper and push my hips up to meet him as I try to get him away from me again.
“Let me just taste you then,” he says softly. “When’s the last time you had a man who really loves to eat go down on you?”
Even the way he talks about it makes me want to burst with a strange mixture of desire and humiliation.
When’s the last time? Never, that’s when. A few half-hearted forced licks don’t count as “getting head” and I’ve had the unfortunate experience of having friends describe the details of back-breaking sessions that I always knew would be out of reach for me. Not with the men I date.