Chapter Nine
Cyn
Beau lifts my tied body and gently sets me in the center of the mattress.
Beau fucking Bradley. A mattress. In the middle of a nearly empty living room. In the condo right next door to mine.
What the fuck is going on? I should be struggling, fighting.
But I just feel a general low-grade irritation that I can’t ask him the questions I want to ask.
How long has he known? Did he know who I was when he fucked me like the whore I am?
Did he find out after? How? And when the hell did he move in here?
My head spins with confusion as I try to take in everything around me.
My dress is riding up my thighs, and Beau is staring at my legs.
Look at my face, you idiot, I want to scream.
He looks so sad, like he knows he’s doing a bad thing but can’t stop himself.
He places his hand on my skin, and I suck in a soggy tea towel.
Electricity races from the tips of his fingers, my body the conduit, the spark bouncing off my clit, each nipple, then pinballing in my brain.
Look at me! I know he’d be able to read my eyes if only he’d look up.
Damn him, even trussed up like a turkey, I know he’d never hurt me.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Cyn. I can’t bear to think of you going to someone else. I can’t— fuck— I can’t stop myself. In my home. In my bed.” He’s so close to me on the big mattress, his body heat pulsing. The small hairs on my arms lift and vibrate.
I wasn’t going to meet someone! I want to scream, and I try to speak again, but his shoulders only tense at my unintelligible mumbles.
He moves as if he’s tethered to me, as if he can’t stand to be further than a few inches away.
He leans over and kisses the skin at the tops of my thighs, just under the rumpled hem of my dress.
I hiss into my gag. Three soft kisses on one thigh.
His lips are moist and soft. He moves to the other thigh, his hand big and rough on my knee.
My pussy throbs and I can feel myself liquefy at his touch.
My internal screams are different now. Suck my skin! Bite me! How can he not hear my thoughts?
“I can’t stay away. You smell so good, Cyn.
I’ve missed you so much. So much, you have no idea,” he whispers against my heated skin, kissing me over and over, back and forth, the tip of his tongue touching me, his muscles tense and quivering, trying to stop himself.
Then he nips at me, and I squeak, twitch.
Yes, more. More. “How could you leave me? How could you stay away? I was going to take you with me, give you the world. Don’t you remember? ”
My eyes grow wet now because I do remember all his promises, all his big dreams. But he said all that before.
Before he knew about Peter and how I was ruined.
Before I started selling my body. I could never hold him to those promises.
Not without anything to give him in return but shame and embarrassment.
Doesn’t he understand that? The big, dumb— oh! What’s he doing?
“I’m sorry, fuck, I need you, baby, I’m sorry.
Let me just make you feel good,” he says as he licks his way higher, using his nose to push up my dress, slowly revealing my sheer panties and the bare vulva under them.
“Holy shit, look at your pretty pussy. You’re so wet.
One taste, just one taste. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing this pretty hole, oh, fuck. ”
I close my eyes and moan, arching my neck, as he tongues the scrap of material covering my pussy.
It rasps roughly against my sensitive skin, instantly wetting and clinging.
His lips shove inward, and he sucks at my clit, growling in irritation at having cloth blocking him from truly tasting me.
Rip it off! My hips rock and strain at my bindings; I’m desperate to spread my thighs and urge him deeper.
“So good, so perfect,” he grunts like a hungry pig and sucks more, biting at my lips, lathing me in his drooling saliva.
Finger me! Touch me! Pull out your big dick and fuck me!
I thrash my head and he moans, pleased to have me clearly on the cusp of orgasming from his hot, kidnapping mouth.
“Good girl, good little slut, this is all I’ve ever wanted, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I waited and waited, searched— ”
Damn him and his sweet words because his tongue swirls and he mutters into my flesh and I’m a sopping puddle of juices and spittle and I scream into the damn towel he shoved in my mouth as I explode, convulsing in my restraints, throbbing in pleasure and angry that he’s not giving me more!
“Fuck, yes, baby. Cum for me. Cum for me!” He’s lapping at me now, repetitive up-and-down licks.
He’s not fucking stopping as I pulse and thrash under him.
I don’t know if the sun has set or my vision has gone black with euphoria, because it’s suddenly dark and I’m cumming again harder, my abdomen taut, my fingers stiff.
I want to pull at his hair, to shove him away, and to force him onto his back so I can bounce on his cock until I cum again and again and again.
“I’m sorry, baby, fuck, I’m a monster. Goddamn, I’m sorry, I can’t— I can’t help it— I can’t stop myself—”
Beau blankets me, his heavy weight stilling my spasms, his eyes suddenly too close, too clear, staring into mine for the first time.
Those warm brown orbs are filled with tears, crying, as he pulls aside my sopping panties.
My legs are tied together tightly, and his cock is so perfectly thick.
He’s straddling me. Yes, harder, my mind shouts, and he’s forcing himself into my hole.
So tight, the stretch so deep. We’re bare and slick and rubbing deep, and I cum again as his tears drop onto my cheeks.
He wraps his arms around my upper body, his hips slamming me wildly, wetly, but his eyes are locked on mine, so full of— no, not love. It can’t be love. How can he look at me like that while he’s fucking my pussy so hard my body thrums?
Oh, no, I’m going to cum again. I contract, and he roars; he can feel me cumming, and I see the knowledge in his eyes.
There’s no faking this, no hiding this. This isn’t like the other times with the johns who sometimes make me feel the tiniest, quickest bite of pleasure.
Nope, this is a mind-numbing, all-consuming, life-changing fucking.
The tip of his nose touches mine, and his lips pull into a grimace, and he groans, “I’m cumming inside you.
I’m cumming. I fucking love you. I— I took your birth control.
I could be breeding you right now.” His throat catches on the word, and his eyes roll back in his head.
I have trouble focusing too; his big, throbbing cock is stuck deep and pumping ropes of cum into me.
What is he talking about? Breeding? A baby boy with curly black hair and Cupid’s bow lips, just like his Daddy— my womb aches and I screech.
A normal cock shouldn’t even be able to fuck in this position, my thighs clamped shut, panties scrunched up, him straddling me, but he’s so long and thick, his hard shaft rubbing my clitoris inexorably.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles for the millionth time.
I’m limp now. Still unable to tell him he’s not doing anything I don’t enthusiastically want.
I wasn’t even going to meet a john. He abducted me for nothing.
But there’s still some sort of fire blazing in my belly that heats up from the knowledge that the idea of me with someone else drove him literally so insane that he had to commit a crime.
I’m just as fucked up as he is, mumbling about breeding me, trapping me, keeping me tied to him forever.
If only he’d fucking free my mouth so I could let him know!
“Our baby would be so beautiful. A little girl with her mama’s green eyes,” he’s still going on, even as I blink in and out of consciousness from the force of my climaxes. “I need you again; I need to fill you up again. I don’t know how much time I have. I’m sorry. I can’t stop.”
He rolls me over onto my belly and carefully turns my head and brushes my hair out of my eyes.
The kisses he drops on my head and nape and shoulders are emblazoned on me, and I relax for him.
Willing him to take me again, guilt-free.
He pulls my panties down this time, still straddling my thighs; he pushes up my dress and grabs my ass, molding the cheeks in his hands before pressing his cockhead into my dripping slit.
The feeling of his forceful shafting is glorious.
He grabs my hips and fucks me with all his might.
As if this is our only night together and he can’t get enough of my pussy.
As if he thinks he’s going to be arrested tomorrow.
“Fuck, tight little pussy, my little slut. Mine. Gonna put a baby in you that you can keep forever. My baby in your pretty belly.”
I cum languidly this time, and he strokes me through it, not slowing or stopping or even acknowledging my rolling waves of orgasm. He slaps my ass and cums as I cry out into my gag.
I fall asleep for a bit, waking on my back, my tied ankles over his shoulder.
My panties are gone and so is my dress, though his eyes are trained on my bouncing tits in their net bra.
He’s fucking me again, thick cum sliding out around his veiny shaft.
Does he ever tire? He’s a specimen, abs stacked, thighs spread and juicy, his shoulders rolling like boulders under his skin.
He’s holding my thighs in one hand and my hip in the other.
He grunts and spills before I have a chance to cum, though I’m already close.
It’s the middle of the night when he finally unties my gag. He’s slow and careful, his eyes glistening wet in the darkness. His fingers tremble.
“I’m sorry, Cyn. I hope you can forgive me someday.”