Sweet Captivity

Something awful stirred at the edges of my mind. I shied away from it. Instead, I focused on the heat that was consuming me, the tingling in my flesh, the gentle brush of Andrés’ fingers against my hypersensitive skin.

“You don’t touch yourself?” His deep voice was colored with surprise. “You’ve never made yourself come?”

“I… No.” Shame made my cheeks flame, but the heat in my sex kept me distracted. I couldn’t see, couldn’t think. All I could do was feel and listen to Andrés’ lilting voice as he asked me the most devious questions.

“So you’ve never had an orgasm at all?”

I shook my head and tried to lift my hips again, but his palm on my belly kept me pinned down.

“Then let me show you what your body is capable of,” he said, the words distorted by his hungry growl. “In the future, you will beg me for this.”

His hand finally shifted down to where I craved it most. One thick finger parted my wet folds, and my entire body tightened as he slowly slid it inside my channel. He felt huge as my inner muscles gripped him, torn between welcoming him in and pushing him out. Emotion swelled along with sensation, fear and pleasure crackling through my system. A harsh sob tore from my chest, and my tears wet the blindfold.

“Too much,” I gasped out, twisting against my restraints. “It’s too much. Please—”

“Don’t fight it,” he commanded, finding a secret spot at the front of my inner walls. He crooked his finger against it. At the same time, he brought his thumb down on my clit and rubbed in a demanding rhythm. “Come for me, sirenita.”

Pleasure lit up my entire being, tearing through me with the force of a tidal wave. A raw scream echoed through the room as all my muscles tensed and shook. Bliss wracked my body, my mind. The world fell away as unrelenting bliss sang through my veins, sweeping away my lingering fear. All that existed was Andrés: his touch, his scent, his power. He’d wrung this unknown ecstasy from my soul, ruthlessly subjugating my being with earth-shattering pleasure.

My sex tingled as he continued stroking me. Little lightning strikes of residual pleasure tormented me, making me tremble. I fully surrendered to sensation and sank back against the mattress, utterly sated and thoroughly conquered.

Chapter 7

Andrés pressed tender kisses against my slightly sore wrists when he removed the handcuffs that kept me bound to the bed. I didn’t move once I was free, and I didn’t stir when he unlocked the collar from around my neck. My eyes remained closed when he unknotted the blindfold; I wasn’t ready to face reality yet.

I continued floating in quiet bliss as he unbuckled the cuffs around my ankles and carefully lifted my body up into his strong arms. He cradled me against his chest as he carried me, taking long, sure strides toward an unknown destination. I remained carefully cocooned in warm darkness, clinging to pleasure so I didn’t have to face the horror of my defeat.

I noted that his chest was bare against my skin, his dusting of dark hair tickling my cheek. He must have removed his clothes while I lay boneless and mindless in my post-orgasmic haze.

The world tilted, and my eyes fluttered open when my feet touched cool tiles. I watched with detached interest as Andrés reached around me and turned the knob for the shower. Water sprayed from every direction, multiple showerheads raining down. It seemed awfully decadent compared to my low water pressure, single showerhead setup at my shabby townhouse.

My heart squeezed, and I quickly smothered my thoughts before they could start firing again. I didn’t want to think about my townhouse. About how far I was from home, even though I was located just across town. I might as well be on another planet.

Andrés gripped my hips and guided me into the glass-fronted shower stall. The water was uncomfortably hot, and my pale skin turned pink almost instantly. He seemed to notice everything about my body, so he immediately turned the temperature to something more bearable.

He stayed positioned behind me, and I was grateful for that. If I didn’t have to look at him, I didn’t have to process the fact that he was fully naked in the shower with me. I’d felt his erection, and that had been terrifying enough.

He didn’t allow me much of a reprieve. His hands closed around my waist, pulling my body back against his so I could feel his hard length pressing into my ass. I tried and failed to swallow a whimper as some of my fear resurfaced, despite my best efforts to remain lost in lingering pleasure.

“You’re still afraid of my cock,” he surmised, but he didn’t move away at the sound of my distress. “But you’re not afraid when I touch you anymore, are you?”

To prove his point, he pumped soap into his hand from a dispenser on the wall before returning his touch to my breasts. He massaged them gently, and I moaned as his slick palms grazed my nipples. They were still tender from the arousal cream, and he made sure to tease the tight buds as he washed away the substance that lingered on my skin. My flesh tingled, but not as intensely as it had when he’d first applied the cream.

One hand skimmed down my belly to carefully wash my sex, his other remaining at my breasts to play with my nipples. I shuddered and leaned back against him for support as pleasure flooded my body again, the tension at my core building.

“You are a greedy girl,” he said, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “I knew you’d be like this. But you don’t deserve a reward. Not yet.”

A humiliating whine slipped through my lips when he stopped touching me intimately. He grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him. My eyes darted around the bathroom, avoiding looking at his imposing body.

He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face to his. I made the mistake of glancing up, and I found myself trapped in his steady black stare.

“You don’t like looking at me,” he said, an acknowledgement of fact. “My scars frighten you.”

“It’s not that,” I a

dmitted, the words tumbling out of me in my nervousness. “I mean, you’re scary. But your scars aren’t why you scare me. Well, kind of, because they mean you’re violent. But this is just a tic I have. I don’t really like looking at anyone. I have to for work, sometimes. It takes effort. It makes me uncomfortable. I mean…” I finally managed to end my rambling confession. Why was I telling him all this?

Because I babbled when I was nervous, that’s why. Especially around alpha males, and especially when they turned their full, potent attention on me to impose their will. I did it with Jason, and I definitely did it with Dex. I could barely look at my best friend under normal circumstances, even when I didn’t have a reason to be intimidated. I was always nervous around him, in that butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of way.