“I love doing new things with you,” I tell him, my voice a little dreamy as he fills me in this novel but enjoyable way.
He kisses the side of my neck, teases my clit, and caresses my breast. This position is less physically intense, but it’s so much more emotionally intense, which ratchets up my physical pleasure. I was looking forward to anal for the sensation of being violently possessed, but this is so much more passionate and loving—and so much more dangerous, given the status of our non-relationship.
I didn’t expect to come from anal sex—I figured that was why he fucked me doggy-style first—but I’m swept up in his tenderness and the fullness. One minute I’m drifting lazily toward euphoria, and the next, a sharp bite of pleasure overtakes me, rattling me all the way down to my bones as it completely consumes me.
“Brant,” I cry out loudly, pushing back against him. “Oh, God, Brant.”
He holds me close as I shudder and cry out, rubbing my clit until I can’t take it anymore, then letting go and holding me against him as he pumps into me a few more times. When he feels too tightly stuffed inside me and I’m certain I’ll break if he swells any more, that’s when he lets out a low groan of pleasure and shoves deep, releasing himself inside me.
My legs might as well be made of Jell-O. As soon as he pulls out, I collapse forward against the bed, clutching the soft pillow beneath my naked body.
Brant comes down beside me, grabs the pillow like he’s jealous of the affection I’m giving it, and shoves it over to my side of the bed. “Get over here,” he murmurs, grabbing me and yanking me against him.
I sigh, sinking back against his chest, completely comfortable despite my unabashed nakedness. “I love having sex with you,” I tell him. “I never want to stop.”
“Clearly, I should have locked you in my basement that first night and never let you out. I could’ve come down and fucked you any time I felt like it, and you would’ve eaten it up.”
“It’s not too late,” I tell him, almost earnestly. “You can kidnap me again, and I totally won’t tell anyone you flubbed the first time. In the note I left at home tonight, I just said I was giving a friend a ride home. I didn’t specify who, and no one would ever know it was you. Keep me here as your sex prisoner,” I say, trying to entice him more than anyone has ever tried to entice someone into doing such a thing.
Amused, he asks, “You want to live in my basement?”
“Well, not really. I was thinking the captivity could be more trust-based so I can roam around freely during the day. I would prefer to be kept prisoner in your bedroom, if you’re married to the locking me up aspect and can’t be talked out of it. But really, as long as I’m getting your cock every night or so, I can work with whatever living arrangements you feel necessary.”
“You make felonies sound so appealing.”
“They are,” I tell him, nodding earnestly. “All the cool kids are doing it. You should try it, see what all the fuss is about.”
“I technically already have. I did kidnap you the night I met you, you’re just crazy and you started liking me anyway, so everything got all fucked up.”
“But then you took me back home,” I tell him with a grimace. “So, you kinda failed at being a successful kidnapper. Sorry.”
“Damn,” he says dryly. “There goes that life goal.”
“It’s okay.” I pat the part of his arm I can reach. “I believe in you. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
“I wonder if any other kidnappers have ever had an abductee with so many complaints about being returned home safely,” he muses.
“Probably not, but they’re probably not as good at sex, and I bet they don’t even have cute dogs. Plus, your murder workshop is pretty impressive, and I bet they don’t even have murder workshops.”
With mock disgust, he says, “Amateurs.”
“I’m all in on this plan. I can’t be your girlfriend, okay, but I can totally be your hostage. If anyone ever found me out, it wouldn’t be, ‘I’m dating the girl who did that bad thing,’ it would be, ‘I abducted that girl who did that bad thing and I’m keeping her prisoner in my house.’ No one could ever fault you for that,” I assure him.
“That is an incredibly inaccurate statement. I think a lot of people could find fault in that, just not for the same reasons.”
“I realize kidnapping is frowned upon, but this is agreed-upon kidnapping, just between us. I’d never rat you out, anyway. If you ever get caught, I’ll tell whoever finds me whatever you want to tell them. If it’s Bri, you’ve been making my life a living hell. If it’s the law, I’m renting out that room in your basement, totally not a prisoner.”