Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

They stopped, and just as Colin was about to speak again, words died on his lips, because Taron grabbed the rope attached to Colin’s wrists and tied it to a branch above them, forcing Colin’s arms up.

Colin stiffened, trying to pull his wrists closer to his body. “What are you doing?”

Taron looped the rope around the branch several times. he signed as soon as his hands were free and pushed up Colin’s T-shirt all too eagerly.

Colin was so freaked out he only spoke once Taron pulled his dirty T-shirt all the way to the bound wrists. “Um… are we waiting for rain?”

Taron shook his head and matter-of-factly opened Colin’s jeans, as if he were undressing a doll. Colin got to his toes in the grass, and shuddered, fearful of what was to happen. “T-talk to me, okay? What’s going on?”

Taron stilled with his meaty hands on Colin’s zipper. He took a deep breath and nodded toward a green hose in the tall grass that Colin hadn’t noticed before. It was attached to a crude tap sticking out of the ground.

Colin swallowed. He’d rather use the contraption himself, but he didn’t want to push too much on the first day of real progress, so he eventually nodded and met Taron’s gaze, shifting against his hand. “I’m just a bit scared.”

Taron took that bait in an instant.

Colin wondered if Taron meant ‘nice’ for himself, because the big hands were right back on him, tugging down both his jeans and underwear, and leaving Colin painfully naked to Taron’s hungry gaze.

The moment the clothes were off, his thoughts wandered to places that made zero sense in his current situation. He hadn’t had the chance to groom in the past two weeks, and his pubic hair was already growing out into that awkward length between bare and neatly trimmed. What would Taron think about his body now that he saw it in its entirety? Would he judge the signs that Colin wasn’t getting enough exercise recently? Without a mirror, Colin could not see the effects his new routine had on him, and there was no scale to check his weight either. Would Taron even like what he saw?

Colin swallowed the thickness in his throat. His thoughts were a whirlwind of images of violence and thoughts about Taron’s big, sexy hands rubbing him all over. His mind couldn’t settle on one version of reality, so he just stared at them, struggling to come up with something that could tip the scales to his advantage. “I trust you then.”

Taron didn’t sign in answer, but the way he watched Colin as he threw the jeans to the grass seemed to say, you’ve got no other choice. When he stepped back to remove his own T-shirt, alarm bells went off in Colin’s head, and once again he was caught in the conundrum between shamelessly ogling the strong, hairy torso on show and feeling like a deer strung up for skinning.

He thought he’d already made up his mind about sleeping with Taron to earn his trust and gain privileges, but now he was no longer sure. It was like going through his first time all over again. “Are you showering too?”

Taron didn’t seem to be bothered by his nakedness, and Colin took his time assessing the dressing on Taron’s side before his attention inevitably drifted to the meat of Taron’s strong body. It was an illicit pleasure to enjoy the beauty of his captor, but Colin had to admit that his memory of Taron sitting topless in the armchair that first night, hadn’t given him justice. That night, Taron had sat in the armchair sweaty, bleeding, but he managed to grind his teeth and closed a gash in his own body as if he did that every day.

Taron signed and untied his heavy combat boots.

Would he take off the jeans too?

Colin breathed in the scent of pines, but the longer he was naked, the colder he felt, and his skin was rapidly erupting in goosebumps. He’d be warmer with Taron’s body pressed to his own. “You have a point,” he said, trying to smile despite all the worries worming their way deep into his brain.

Taron smirked and flicked Colin’s puckered nipple, only reminding Colin that he was a captive, and Taron could do whatever he liked with his body. At least some consolation came in the form of Taron taking his jeans off. The simple black underwear revealed a decently sized package, but since that wasn’t being unwrapped, Colin stared at the thick thighs that seemed to be made of pure muscle dusted with dark hair.

Taron could choke people with those if he wanted to, and Colin imagined himself lying horizontally, and those thighs tensing on either side of his head while Taron’s dick…