35. Tatum
Chapter 35
Tatum
Before I can even process what's happening, Isaac's lips crash against mine. His kiss is rough, passionate, and frantic, yet his hands cradle my face like he's holding something precious. The contrast is dizzying.
“Damn it, Isaac,” I mumble against his mouth.
“Shut up,” he growls back, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. His beard scrapes along my neck as he trails kisses down to my collarbone. It stings in the best way possible.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My neck and chest are red and raised from the assault of his beard. Somehow, that turns me on even more.
“Look at you,” Isaac murmurs against my skin. “A real damsel in distress.”
“Hardly,” I retort, trying to keep my voice steady. “More like a damsel with a plan.”
He chuckles, low and dangerous. “That’s what I like about you, Tatum. You're tough as nails, won't take any shit.”
I tilt my head back to give him better access, not caring how desperate I must look. “Is this part of the plan too?”
“You bet your ass it is,” he says, nipping at my earlobe.
His hands move from my face to grip my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel every hard line of his body against mine.
“You know,” I say between ragged breaths, “this isn’t exactly helping with the whole ‘kidnap victim’ look.”
“Who cares?” he says, his voice rough with desire. “You look perfect.”
My heart pounds in my chest as his hands roam over me, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I clutch at his shirt, needing something to anchor me.
Isaac pulls back just enough to grab his knife, his eyes never leaving mine. The metallic sound of the blade sliding open sends a shiver down my spine. He moves the knife to my shirt, the cold steel kissing my skin before he slices through the fabric.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and dirty. “All that prim and proper bullshit, hiding this body.” He rips the shirt further, exposing more skin.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I challenge, feeling a wet heat pooling between my thighs.
His green eyes darken as he smirks. “Not trying to scare you, love. Trying to make you feel alive.”
He slips a hand into my jeans pocket and yanks hard. The denim tears along my thigh, the sound mingling with my gasp. His strength is raw, primal, and it catches me off guard.
“You’re stronger than you look,” I say breathlessly.
“You’ve no idea,” he replies, stepping back to survey his handiwork. My gaze drifts down to the bulge in his jeans, making it clear just how much he's enjoying this.
“Now Tatum,” he says, voice dripping with lust, “you look like a force to be fucking reckoned with.” He strides over to the camera, leaving me standing there trying to catch my breath.
“Isaac?” I call out, feeling emboldened by the wildness in his eyes.
“Yeah?” He turns back to face me.
“I’m not going to break,” I say firmly. “Come fuck me. You might as well be consistent with the disheveled look.”
He rushes towards me like a predator pouncing on prey. My back hits the wall as his lips crash against mine again. His kiss is all-consuming, rough and demanding.
His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, gripping my waist, roaming over every inch of exposed skin. The intensity of it all makes me dizzy with desire.
“I can’t believe he turned this down,” Isaac growls against my mouth. “Fucking idiot.”
“He’s not you,” I manage to say between kisses.
“Damn right he’s not,” Isaac replies before pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “I’m going to make sure you remember that.”
With that promise hanging in the air, he dives back in, kissing me like he's trying to devour me whole.
Isaac’s hands move swiftly, yanking my torn shirt off and discarding it like it’s nothing. “So fucking sexy,” he mutters, taking off my jeans, and underwear, his eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin. His hands slide over my body, sending jolts of electricity through me. “Always knew there was a dirty girl hidden under all that prim and proper.”
His words make me shiver. I should feel ashamed, but all I feel is exhilaration.
He steps back, taking in my naked body. His gaze is intense, and it makes me feel more exposed than I already am. “God damn,” he breathes, voice rough with desire.
“Like what you see?” I tease, trying to sound confident despite my pounding heart.
“More than you fucking know,” he growls as he walks up to me again, his hand coming to rest over my head. His touch is possessive, claiming.
“Let’s just see how much you enjoy being a bad girl,” he whispers against my ear. I feel something cold snap around my wrist—a cuff. My breath catches, but not from fear.
“Shouldn’t this scare me?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.
“Do you want me to stop?” His eyes bore into mine, searching for any hint of hesitation.
“No,” I reply firmly. “Don’t stop.”
He grins wickedly and cuffs my other wrist to the pipe above me. The metal is cold against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asks as he moves down to cuff one ankle to another pipe.
“You have no idea,” I say honestly.
“I’m starting to get an idea,” he says with a smirk, securing the last cuff around my other ankle. I’m spread eagle, completely at his mercy. But instead of fear, all I feel is anticipation.
“You look amazing like this,” he says, stepping back to admire his work. “A perfect little captive.”
“I guess we’re doing this for real then,” I say with a shaky laugh.
“Oh, we’re doing this for real,” he replies darkly. “And you’re gonna love every second of it.”
His words send another wave of heat through me. Being at his mercy feels oddly liberating. And seeing the raw desire in his eyes makes me feel powerful in a way I’ve never felt before.
“What now?” I ask, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.
“Now,” Isaac says as he steps closer again, his hand trailing down my side, “we see just how bad you can be.”
Isaac steps back, eyes blazing with a dark, primal hunger. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion. My breath catches as I take in the sight of his muscular torso, covered in tattoos that snake across his skin like a living, breathing map of danger and allure.
“Do you approve?” he asks, voice dripping with arrogance.
“You know I do,” I reply, my voice a little breathless.
He smirks and steps closer, pressing his body against mine. The heat radiating from him is almost unbearable. He dips his head, kissing my neck with slow, deliberate pressure. His beard scrapes against my skin, leaving a trail of delicious friction.
“Going crazy yet?” he murmurs against my collarbone.
“Insane,” I admit, tugging at the chains binding my wrists. “I can’t stand it.”
“Good,” he says, lips brushing against my chest. “The build-up makes it so much more worthwhile.”
He takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. A gasp escapes me as waves of pleasure roll through my body. My back arches involuntarily, pushing me closer to him.
“Isaac,” I moan, barely able to form coherent words.
He chuckles darkly, moving to give the same attention to my other nipple. The sensation is almost too much to bear. I pull harder at the chains, desperate for some kind of release.
“You’re a mess,” he says between kisses. “A beautiful fucking mess.”
“Please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for anymore.
Isaac drops to his knees in front of me, hands trailing down my sides before gripping my hips firmly. He looks up at me with those piercing green eyes, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
“Hold on tight,” he warns before leaning in and pressing his mouth against me.
The first touch of his tongue sends shockwaves through my entire body.
"You taste fucking incredible," he says before he dives back in.
My hands clench around the chains above me as he starts working me with expert precision. He moves slowly at first, savoring every reaction he pulls from me.
“Oh my fucking god,” I gasp as he picks up the pace.
Isaac hums against me, the vibration adding another layer to the intense pleasure building inside me. His grip tightens on my hips as he delves deeper, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Isaac,” I cry out, barely able to hold on.
He looks up at me with a wicked grin before doubling down on his efforts. Every flick of his tongue feels like an electric current running through me. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
My body tenses as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable.
Just as I’m about to reach that sweet release, Isaac pulls away. The sudden absence of his mouth on me is jarring. My eyes fly open, and I glare down at him.
“What the hell?” I demand, my voice a mix of frustration and desperation.
Isaac grins up at me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m in charge of when you come, remember? And it’s gonna be on my dick.”
He bends down and unhooks my legs from the restraints, his movements precise and efficient. As he stands back up, he glances at the mess dripping down my thighs.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, “making a mess on my floor.”
My breath hitches as he starts undoing his belt, each clink of metal making my pulse race faster. “Is this what you want?” he asks, eyes locked onto mine.
“Fuck yes,” I say without hesitation.
He drops his pants, and I can’t help but stare. “Jesus Christ,” I breathe out.
“That’s not my name, baby,” he replies with a cocky smirk. “It’s Isaac. Remember it because you’ll be screaming it in a second.”
Isaac steps forward and grabs my legs, lifting me off the ground with ease. The strength in his grip makes me feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.
“You ready?” he asks, positioning himself at my entrance.
I nod frantically, overcome with excitement and anticipation. He spears into me with one powerful thrust, and I cry out in pure ecstasy. My hands are still bound by the cuffs above me, but I barely notice them now.
“Goddamnit,” Isaac growls as he starts moving inside me, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. “You're so fucking tight.”
I can’t form words; all I can do is moan and gasp as he takes me apart piece by piece. His hands grip my hips tightly, pulling me closer with each movement. The sensation is overwhelming in the best way possible.
“You like that?” he asks, voice rough with desire.
“Yes,” I manage to gasp out between moans. “Don’t stop.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he replies with a wicked grin.
“Are your wrists hurting you?” Isaac asks, his breath hot against my ear.
“Yes, but it’s a good pain,” I gasp. “Don’t fucking stop.”
A grin spreads across his face as he wraps my legs around him and continues thrusting, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me. He reaches up to unhook the wrist restraints, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Hold on tight,” he growls.
With my hands free, I grab his shoulders as he walks backward and sits down in the chair, never breaking our connection. The shift in position sends a new thrill through me. I tighten my legs around him, grinding against him with newfound fervor.
“Fucking mark me, Tatum,” he commands, voice rough and demanding. “Fucking brand me. Take it out on me.”
His words ignite something primal inside me. I dig my nails into his back, dragging them down hard enough to leave marks. He hisses in pleasure, arching into my touch.
“Yes,” he groans. “Just like that.”
Fueled by his reaction, I grab a fistful of his hair with one hand while the other continues to scratch and claw at his back. His eyes roll back in pleasure as I start bouncing up and down on his dick with renewed intensity.
“Fuck yes, baby,” he praises, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “That’s it. Such a fucking bad girl.”
The sight of him sprawled out beneath me, completely at my mercy, drives me wild. I ride him harder, faster, relishing the power I have over him in this moment.
“Fuck,” I moan as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak.
“Don’t hold back,” he urges. “Let go.”
His pace quickens, driving into me relentlessly. The intensity builds again, that familiar pressure coiling tighter and tighter within me. This time, there’s no stopping it.
“Isaac!” I scream as the orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave.
“Fuck yeah baby,” he growls through gritted teeth as he follows me over the edge, our bodies moving together in perfect sync.
For a moment, everything else fades away—the shitty marriage, the dangerous game we’re playing—and all that exists is this raw connection between us.
As we both come down from the high, Isaac leans in close and whispers against my ear. “Now are you ready for your film debut?”
"Are you talking about my ransom video or are we about to make a porno because I feel like that would be a killer fucking debut?
Isaac starts laughing, and damn, I love the sound of his deep laugh. It’s like gravel and velvet mixed together. He’s still holding me, but he pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes.
“Get dressed, baby. You’ve got a ransom video to film,” he says, a wicked grin playing on his lips.
He hands me my clothes, the torn shirt and jeans that now seem more like props than actual attire. I take them from him and can’t help but think this is the fucking life. Who knew being kidnapped could be so... liberating?