22. Colton
TWENTY-TWO
COLTON
PRESENT.
I don’t know why the other man is coming down so much more than usual. I suspect he’s responsible for Kinleigh getting to visit me again. And yet, he beats me when he visits, but he also allows me to shower and brings me food. In fact, under his care the last two weeks, I’m gaining strength. And with Kinleigh’s visits, I’m spiritually feeling stronger than ever.
Ready to escape.
Except, I don’t know just how I’ll do that yet.
I need her help.
I need her, period, and I can’t even begin to think about what a bad way she’s in right now. Priority is getting out of here alive with Kinleigh, freeing the women, righting the land deeds for my sister and then and only when everyone is safe can we begin to heal.
Once we’re away from here and things are set straight, I’ll never let her out of my arms. I don’t know how I’ll heal her, but I’ll do anything and everything I can. The beautiful soul I’ve loved my whole life is still in there, even if I can’t hear her. I know she’s in there.
As if she senses I’m thinking of her, the cellar door opens and the other man’s gruff voice topples down the stairs into my lap. “Thirty minutes, not a moment more.”
The door closes and soft footfalls hit my ears as I push off the bed to my feet, pulling Kinleigh against my chest. She sighs, her warm breath flanking my neck as she tips her face up to see mine.
I look down at her. “I missed you.”
She smiles her endangered smile that doesn’t lift the edges of her eyes. I want her to feel so good she can’t stop a real smile from overtaking her.
The way she felt when she was my girl.
I know I won’t hear a response, but my heart forces me to ask. I’m chasing the inexplicable high I felt when she uttered my name. Just once, sheltered and quiet, but so beautiful, as perfect as I remembered. Maybe better. “Why don’t you run?” I wonder quietly, her body still tightly against mine, my soft words trapped between us.
I don’t want to let her go, but she slips from my arms to take a seat on the edge of my bed. Chains scrape the floor as I follow after her, taking a seat so close our thighs touch. She takes my face in her hands, gently pressing her lips to mine. Her tongue sweeps my mouth, searching for respite in me. I hope I give that to her. I know it’s been a rough morning; I can feel it as her shoulders tremble gently.
The urgency with which she strokes her tongue along mine, the way her fingertips sink into my cheeks, how she breathes hard and fast—she needs me right now.
And I don’t know why. What I do know is that I’m chained to the wall, but still, I’d give her everything.
Right now it seems she needs a physical connection between us, and I’m grateful for the shower I got this morning, despite the fact it was ice cold and lasted only four minutes.
I lift an arm, shaking the chain as I stir. “I’m gonna make you better, baby,” I tell her as she ignores the space I’ve made for her against my chest.
Instead, she nudges me until I’m on the mattress on my back, an arm curled behind my head. Between my legs, she sits on her haunches, her eyes so clear and shiny for a split second when I look at them, I forget the circumstances and only feel us .
Our bond. Our chemistry.
With both hands on my knees, she begins stroking my thighs, and though I know she wants to to feel our bond, I want to ease her pain in more ways than that. Words and my body are all I have right now, so I talk as she rubs my legs.
“I loved sitting with you at lunch that day,” I whisper as she inches closer to my groin with each leisurely pass. “I almost felt like I got lucky when those kids stomped on your sandwich,” I admit, her fingertips curling the waistband of my sweats.
The man who’s been coming down took my jeans and vest once as I lay still in a sleepless, drug-induced state of paralysis. He returned them clean, along with a cup of coffee and a copy of Last of the Breed by Louis L’Amour.
She tugs my sweats down, exposing me completely.
I haven’t touched the book or clean clothes yet, but as she strokes my thighs and grazes my bare groin, I wonder if I’ll have to change pants after this.
I remember watching an interview with a contestant of a survival TV show. The host asked the candidate, who had survived on the island more than twenty-four days, if there had been any funny business between him and the other female on the island.
I remember as clear as day deciding as a fourteen-year-old boy who newly discovered ejaculation, that I’d never go on a reality survival show, ever. Why? The guy said, “ I wish. I was so exhausted and my body was in a state of hunger for so long, not much was happening down there… even in the morning. ”
He must’ve been really fucking hungry because, though my meals have increased lately, I’ve been a prisoner for a month. And when I look down, the pinkened head of my cock is greeting us both, my length rigid and aching.
It’s a miracle I can get erect and ejaculate considering the circumstances. Then again, with Kinleigh, it seems like it would be crazy if my body didn’t respond. She awakens me, stirs to life places long dormant in my soul, so it’s no surprise to me that a few minutes of thigh rubbing has me so hard I’m leaking.
She tugs my sweats the rest of the way down. A little groan escapes me when Kin’s tongue swipes her bottom lip, as if she’s prepared to feast.
I’ve never been in her mouth before.
We had sex before we did a lot of things, because our bodies were ready to make that connection.
Slowly she wraps her palm around my shaft, using her other hand to swipe a stray bead of arousal that slithers down my length. I watch with rapt focus as the dreamy Kinleigh Conway uses both of her hands to pump and stroke, her eyes fixated on my hard cock like it’s the only thing in the world.
“I knew you’d sit with me for a couple of days after that, for comfort,” I tell her as precum bubbles at my tip in embarrassing abundance. “I was glad to make you feel comfortable.”
Her eyes slide from my cock to my face, and though it’s small, I don’t miss her smile.
I remember pushing a piece of hair away from her face one of the first days we ate lunch together. I remember thinking, Be careful with your big dumb hand, she’s small and you don’t want to hurt or scare her .
“I pushed hair off your face as a boy, not knowing how much I’d come to love doing that as we grew up.”
Leaning forward, she draws nearer to me on the mattress. My heart is racing, and I’m grateful to be lying down or else I’d be dizzy. Reaching out, I nudge the hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear. Little heated bumps flood my spine as I watch in a slow, ethereal dream state as she lowers to my cock, and sucks me into her mouth.
The way she moves her tongue is more about discovery than orgasm. She follows the vein that runs on the underside of my shaft, then uses the tip of her tongue to make slow circles around my crown. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucks hard before popping off, and I watch, amazed, as the tip of her tongue traverses the dark slit on my cockhead, lapping at my precum, savoring me.
Goddamn, as a teen, I dreamed about this. Every night nearly.
I wish we weren't here.
I wish she could talk to me.
I wish I never left.
“Kinleigh,” I groan, watching in delight as she slowly, leisurely moves up and down on my cock, one of her hands tenderly cupping my sack.
It’s not long that I get to watch. The moment she lifts her eyes to mine, and I get a glimpse of her looking at me with my cock in her mouth, I feel the hot surge down my spine, the tightening in my groin, the delicious ache in my balls.
“Kinney, baby, I’m gonna come,” I warn, because I don’t know if she’s a woman that lets a man finish in her mouth.
I don’t know her in those ways, because I left and she stayed and this is what happened to her. She became a prisoner, she lost her voice, and had I never left…
“Kin,” I grit out, losing my ability to overthink as a thread of bubbling saliva pools at the base of my cock, her lips pinching a decadent vise around my crown.
She suckles my head, using her tongue to inconspicuously tease my tip.
“Kinney,” I groan as the first ribbon of release erupts from me.
I keep my eyes on her as my cock throbs in her warm mouth, my shoulders shuddering as I empty myself onto her tongue and down her throat. As I’m twitching and sighing, she cleans up my sated cock using her hungry pink tongue, stealing away all the traces that I orgasmed in her mouth. Tucking me back into my sweats, with my chest heaving, our eyes lock.
“Who’s the man that’s been coming down?” I ask her as she rises from the bed.
I get the feeling she’s going to leave, and that likely means Forrest is on his way home. My gut clenches, and I know her father is hurting her. It wasn’t just the burns on her body the other day. There’s more.
After all, she doesn’t speak.
The cellar door opens, startling her, and I hate that just the sound of a door opening makes her jump.
What have you been through, Kinney…
“He’s five minutes out,” the man’s voice calls, and with that, Kinleigh gives me a smile, this time, her eyes lifting a bit.
Despite the fact I’m still chained, I feel better. It’s not the head but the time together that gives me strength and hope. And it looks like, as she passes me one more look over her shoulder, she feels a bit better too.
I have to get us the fuck out of here.
I need to see that smile all day every day.