27
“I see you’re a sucker for punishment,” a smooth voice radiates into the air, and my eyes snap open. It takes me a few seconds to catch my bearings and see where I am. Fuck. I’m still in Gabe’s bedroom, and he is standing at the end of the bed, unfastening his belt. I’ve made him angry because his gaze is penetratingly sinister and frightening.
“I’m so sorry,” my voice trembles as he pulls his belt out from the loops of his trousers and steps to my side.
“Stay where you are,” he snarls without warmth or compassion, which is how he usually looks at me.
“I’ve fucked up. I’m sorry,” I sit up, and he shakes his head, signaling me to lie back down.
“You wanted this,” his deep voice trembles down my spine. “I told you to leave, but you disobeyed me, so I’m giving you what you want.”
He seizes my wrists, raises them above my head, and uses his belt to fasten my wrists to the headboard. Then he turns his back and walks toward the door, making me panicky.
“Are you leaving me here?” I whimper like a sook who shouldn’t have snuck into his room in the first place, and now he’s mad.
He doesn’t answer but instead leaves me lying there under his sheets as he vanishes down the hallway.
“I’m sorry,” I scream after him, knowing who he is and what he’s capable of. In a way, he is so much more dangerous than Cormac and Blake because he can manipulate place data to make this murder look like a suicide. If he’s about to kill me, then I refuse to die.
I start wrestling with the belt, but somehow, I twist the belt even tighter around my wrists, creating a knot that’s harder to break free from that digs into my skin. I’m tempted to scream for help, but I doubt anyone would hear.
With my heart slamming against my ribcage, Gabe walks back into the room carrying a knife, and I sob uncontrollably, begging for him not to hurt me.
“Hurt you?” he says smoothly as he grabs the covers and pulls them off my body, leaving me vulnerable.
“I’m so sorry, and I promise if you let me go, you’ll never see me again,” I beg as tears stream down my cheeks and my entire body trembles in fear.
He moves to my feet as I raise them into the air to kick him hard if he dares hurt me.
“This is what you want, Rae,” he says, running those eyes all over my body as he unbuttoned his white shirt.
“What do I want?” I need him to clarify this because I’ve never said that I wanted to be bound and slashed with a knife. It’s not until he takes his shirt off that my fear becomes charged with hot desire.
His smooth arms bulge with muscles and black tattoos, and his chest has a light covering of silver hair. Once the shirt is off and draped over the bed, his hands drop to the button of his pants, and a sigh is drawn from my lips.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, flipping his button and opening his fly.
My breath hitches, and I bite my lower lip. “Yes,” I gasp. “I want this.”
“Good girl,” he replies, running the blade of his knife along my thigh as a soft whimper exudes from my mouth because I’m so turned on, and this is a new experience for me. An older man that I’ve been crushing on for years, and whatever this is, he’s doing to me.
Once the blade of his knife reaches my short, he starts cutting as my clit pangs and my orgasm starts brimming. Two cuts to my shorts, and he pulls them off, so I’m wearing only a T-shirt and panties.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks, noticing the twisted belt digging into my skin.
“No, please, can you loosen it a little?” I beg, and he does as I ask but doesn’t remove it altogether, and strangely, I’m pleased about that. This is a new discovery for my tastes and desires, but perhaps it’s the man more than the sex itself that I’m willing to be open and vulnerable for.
The blade of his knife moves under the hem of my T-shirt, and I stare at his face, now holding back fear, as he cuts and lines up to my chin. I like being at his mercy, and I like being laid bare for his pleasure. I never knew knife play was a thing that would make me so wet, but here we are, living the dream.
Once the T-shirt is cut, he slices through my bra and folds back the cups so my breasts are bare and my nipples hard. Gently, he brushes his fingers over my nipples and leans down to kiss my mouth, but when I rise to meet him, he pulls away to tease.
He moves away from my breasts and takes his knife to my panties, cutting them free, and I open my legs for him to climb inside me. Pulling away from me again, he stands at the foot of the bed and drops his pants, revealing a pair of tight black boxers.
I always wondered what he’d look like naked, and I’ve masturbated enough times with him in mind to his blue eyes and strong hands. But now it’s real. Finally, I can see my crush naked, and I will feel those hands all over me and that cock…
He drops the boxers down, and he is hard and thick in the girth, and I plead for him to penetrate me because I’m so horny. Instead, he walks to my side and brushes my cheek with his hand, then places the tip of his cock on my breast, rubbing it against my nipple while his hand slides between my legs, and I release a high-pitched moan, so hungry for more.
As he runs his cock over my breasts, his fingers are placed on each side of my clit, and he starts rubbing as juice floods from my pussy and. my hands naturally want to hold on to him, but they’re bound in his belt. Being in bondage only adds to the exhilaration and erotic pleasure I had never expected.
His cock moves away from my breasts to my mouth, and I lick my lip and lean forward, wrapping my mouth around his tip. He grunts for the first time since he started seducing me and whispers, “You’re so fucking sexy, Rae. Too young, but so tasty. Soft, young skin and innocent eyes.”
“No,” I moan over his cock. “I’m not too young. Please fuck me.”
His forehead furrows teasingly. “Dirty language is not becoming of you, Rae.”
“You don’t like it when I cuss?” I ask, running my tongue over the head of his penis, before taking it down his length.
“No. You can speak like that around people your age, but around me, I prefer etiquette,” he replies, pulling away from me to stand at the foot of the bed again.
“You want to see me again? I mean…you were kicking me out a moment ago,” I remind him.
And for the first time, he grins. “It was a test. I wanted you in my bedroom, and I know if I left the door unlocked, you couldn’t resist. He positions himself between my legs, kneeling on the bed, and starts rubbing his cock over my clit, and a wave of an orgasm claims me, hitching my breath, and wrestling with my chains, high-pitched sighs and so damn hungry for his penetration.
As my eyes drop closed while the wave thunders through me, he penetrates me without warning, and I scream out from the gratifying pleasure of his cock filling me up. He has me caged, bound in his belt, and his arms and body everywhere. If I were to take my last breath, I would die happy.
He starts moving inside of me in small circles, drawing out another orgasm that is on the edge. Then he falls into full force fucking, slamming that body into me, as the headboard bangs against the wall, and a slice of pain runs down my bound wrists, my head knocks lightly against the headboard, and I love every moment of it.
The pain. The pleasure. Smooth, soft curves meld together with his stiff muscles, determined expression, and rough chin, pounding the hell out of my pussy.
I cum again, screaming louder, the intensity is unbearable but so titillatingly glorious than before, and he cums inside of me, where Blake did only a few hours ago. He pulls out, half-limp and wet from my juice, and leaves the room as my eyes fall onto those impressive butt cheeks.
After several moments’ past, I call after him. “You haven’t forgotten me?” When there’s no reply, I start wrestling with the belt again, trying to come loose with no avail.
He reappears with his hand on his cock, those blue eyes raking all over my naked body as he starts pumping that cock, until he’s hard again.
“I’ll release you when I’m done,” he says smoothly, opening his top drawer and taking out a tube of lubricant. Methodically, he squeezes out a small amount onto his palm and rubs it between his hands to warm it before slathering the lube all over his length.
Those hands find my thighs and roll me over onto my side before climbing onto the bed. When I make a little gasp, he asks, “Are you in pain?”
I shake my head. “What are you going to do?” I swallow over the lump in my throat because he seems even more sinister than now than before he fucked me. What punishment is he going to dish out next?
“You invite yourself into my bed,” he snarls, adjusting the position of my thighs and butt before the mattress sinks of him climbing onto the bed. From this angle, I can’t see much, so I’m placing my trust in the hands of the detective. “Therefore, your body is mine until I’m done.”
Fear shivers down my spine as fingers worm into my tight hole, and I know now what he has planned. “I haven’t done this before,” I tell him, hoping for sympathy.
“I’ll go easy…to start off,” his reply doesn’t help my apprehension, and I tense as his fingers dig deeper inside me.
He lays a hand on my butt cheek, pushing my body further down onto my stomach, then places a knee on each side of me. His penis prods the rim first before moving in, and I sigh as he fills me up while hitting a G-spot I didn’t know I had.
“You’re so tight,” he growls, pushing further, deeper, triggering sensations that travel down my thighs and into my clit, “feels so good.”
He thrusts slowly at first, and if I had my hands free, I would play with my clit to ease the growing tension. With every thrust, he grunts in pleasure, which is satisfying to me that I make him feel good. He pauses to adjust himself again, pushing me right down onto my stomach before leaning over me a little further and, “I need to go deeper.”
He’s not asking for my permission. Instead, he’s claiming my body and doing whatever he wants with it, and I consent. I consent to him punishing me, using me as his mule, pleasuring himself inside of me. But even I have my limits.
His thrusts are quick and deep; his entire body is heaving and bouncing up and down; I’ve become his trampoline; the power in each shove is enormous, the mattress shifting under my naked body, the bed legs shuffling across the floor.
Each vigorous thrust draws a gasp from my lips as I crumble under his weight; the entire room shakes with every giant lunge; those hips of his are incredible.
When I hit my height, the orgasm thundering through my body, breathless, crumbling under his pressure, sighing, close to tears from the enormity of the contraction.
He pulls out, and warm liquid spurts all over my back under his groans and confident hands.
Stillness falls.
He’s still there over me, but I can’t see exactly what he’s doing. The soft brushes of his warm hands move along the back of my thighs and buttocks, followed by kisses and gentle nibbles. He peppers kisses along my spine to the base of my neck, brushes my hair aside, and licks along my neck and cheek.
Then his hands run along my arms to my wrists, where he releases me from his belt, gets up off the bed, and leaves the room again.
Finding this behavior strange, I hopped off the bed, grabbed my shredded clothing from the floor, and tiptoed back to my room, where my bag of folded clothing was still waiting on my bed.
I shut the door behind me while searching for fresh clothes and underwear to put on as my stomach turned with anxiety as to what I should do now. Does he want to leave? He fucked me like he wants me, or maybe he’s just used me and discarded me in the space of an hour.
I’m so confused.
My hand touches something cold and solid in the bottom of my bag, and my fingers wrap around the barrel, pulling it out. Gabe's self-assured footsteps walk past my door as I check to see if my trusty old Glock is loaded.
I hold the Glock up to catch the light and flick the safety cap off in preparation to hunt down my prey.