Chapter 12
What have I done?
I sank into the tub, letting the bubbly suds I’d poured in along with the hot water claim me. The bubbles slowly enveloped me as I sank into them, covering the sweet, wonderful bruises — little reminders of the most incredible sexual experience of my life that I’d just had.
With two men.
My captors.
I’d never done that before. Well, of course I’d never fucked someone who’d kidnapped me before, but I’d also never been with two men. Hell, I’d never been with one man as commanding or as dominant as they’d been.
And I knew, though I’d never admitted it to anyone — even myself — that somewhere deep inside of me, that’d been the fantasy. I knew despite always looking for the smiling, kind, gentle man, what the dark part of me had always craved was that.
Submission.
Giving up control.
Something hard, and raw, and demanding, not sweet and not tender.
Ash and Erik had fucked me — they’d taken me as they pleased and dragged the orgasm out of me as I’d screamed for more.
I’d never even conceived of sex like that, never even close. My body still tingled there in the tub as I replayed it, thinking of the way Ash grabbed my ass as he sheathed every thick inch of his big dick inside of me. How Erik had cupped my jaw in his hand and fed me his cock.
…How they’d called me a good girl.
No, they’d called me their good girl.
I moaned. There, sitting in the tub with the replay of what had just happened slinking through my mind, I moaned out loud. My hand slipped down into the water, delving between my legs. I could feel how slippery my pussy was, how hot I still was at the mere thought of it all.
Fingers slipped between my lips, curling inside and sending a shiver through my body.
God yes.
I’d never been dominated like that. I’d never had my world rocked like that. I’d never felt the total loss of control as two big, muscled men claimed me from both ends like that.
I moaned, fingers brushing over my clit as my other hand cupped my breasts, fingers teasing my nipples. I remembered how they’d pumped me between them, the feeling of their thick, fat cocks pounding me mercilessly until I was drowning in my climax.
My pulse thudded, my breath caught in my throat, and a low moan oozed from my lips as my fingers blurred over my aching clit beneath the suds of the tub. I rubbed fast, feeling my toes curl and my eyes squeeze shut as I imagined the two of them making me theirs all over again.
Except, in the fantasy, it wasn’t enough. In the fantasy, I wanted — no, I needed — more.
I whimpered out loud, my moans bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom as I imagined Oliver stepping in as well. I imagined him peeling his clothes off, revealing that hard-packed body and his equally big cock, before joining his friends in taking my submission.
In the fantasy, they had all of me — every part of me. In the fantasy, no part of me was off limits to their control, until I was screaming for more, feeling all three of them.
I came, sloshing water over the edge of the tub and screaming out my climax as my fingers blurred over my clit. With a final tremor and a small gasp, I felt my muscles let go as I sank into the hot water.
Holy crap.
I finished bathing quickly, stepping from the water and toweling off with the thick, soft towel to the side. I pulled the terrycloth robe hanging on a hook over my shoulders, slipping it on as I padded to the mirror and caught my own eyes there.
What had I done, indeed?
What the fuck had just happened? What was this, Stockholm Syndrome?
I pulled the robe tighter, shivering at the thought before I looked back up and caught my own eyes again.
I blushed.
If that’s Stockholm Syndrome, sign me the hell up.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes at myself as the blush creeped hotter over my face.
I still didn’t know what the hell was happening to me.
But I liked it.