The Prey

“It’s a two-way mirror,” Alex said, unnecessarily. “When I flick the switch, we can see them, but they can’t see us. Our guests are just arriving. They will be checked in and served breakfast while the girls are being prepared to receive them. Presentation is at ten. You will observe the process.” He glanced at a heavy gold watch on his wrist. “We have some time before that.” He flicked the switch once more, causing the wall to silver back to mirror.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Alex turned Mara so she was facing him. He regarded her silently for several long moments, his green eyes hooding as they moved slowly over her. His eyelashes were the same gingery, russet-brown color as his hair and goatee. His face was long and thin, his jaw well-defined. A diamond glinted in his left earlobe. Mara sensed the raw animal power in his gaze. She stared back, unable to look away, oddly attracted in spite of her fear and loathing of the man.

Today he wore a black T-shirt and black jeans, black boots on his feet. He wasn’t much taller than her own five-foot-eight, but somehow he seemed to tower over her. He was lean and sinewy, his muscles clearly defined, ropy veins visible on his arms. He had a tattoo on his right forearm of a snake coiled around a knife blade, its fanged mouth open.

He kept his hands on her shoulders as he turned her once more, this time making her face the mirror. “Stand very still,” he commanded. “Keep your hands at your sides.” He moved behind her, his eyes boring into her reflected image as he wrapped an arm around her torso just below her breasts, forcing them up like an offering.

Using his other hand, he cupped her breast, his palm moving over her nipple until it hardened of its own accord. He smiled a small, triumphant smile. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes.”

He continued to stare at her reflection. “Lovely,” he whispered. “You don’t even need makeup, especially when you blush, as you’re doing now. I like your hair like that, tousled and natural, as if you’d just been fucked. Your eyes are the color of the sea, shifting between green, gray and blue, depending on the light, depending on the level of your fear, your arousal.”

He covered the other breast, moving his hand in circles until that nipple, too, stiffened beneath his touch. Her eyes met his in the mirror. The coldness had vanished, replaced by a raw desire that made Mara catch her breath in a confusion of emotions.

Releasing her breast, his hand trailed down her body to her smooth cleft. His fingers grazed her labia. Mara closed her eyes, disconcerted by the sudden tug of arousal between her legs. Alex moved his hand in a gentle but persistent motion at her sex, arousing Mara in spite of herself. Mara tried to push away his hand as she attempted to squirm out of his grasp.

“No,” Alex admonished sharply. “I said hands at your sides.” Lowering his voice to a seductive murmur, he added, “Don’t resist me, Mara. I won’t allow it.” As he spoke, he slid a hard finger inside her. Mara shuddered and sighed, her hand falling back to her side. At least he wasn’t hurting her. In fact, whatever he was doing felt wonderful.

Her thoughts slowed and quieted as she focused on the pleasurable sensations Alex’s skillful touch engendered inside her. He continued to rub and stroke her until she began to tremble, teetering on the edge of climax.

All at once he spun her around and, cupping her ass with both hands, lifted her into the air, forcing her legs to hook around his waist. The denim of his jeans was rough against her spread pussy, his cock like a bar of steel just beneath the fabric. One arm still firmly around her, he reached for his fly and yanked it open.

Mara felt the insistent nudge of his penis between her legs. She was wet, her pussy throbbing with the need to finish what he’d begun with his hand. His cock slid inside her, filling her, claiming her as his mouth covered hers in a violent kiss that took her breath away.

Finally he released her mouth, which remained open, panting. His cock pummeled inside her, his hips grinding against hers. “I hate you, I hate you, oh, oh god,” she moaned, only aware after the fact that she’d spoken aloud. She arched against him, powerless to resist the sensual, forceful onslaught of his body, his strength, his will. She came in a shuddering burst of spiraling sensation, momentarily removed from the physical world, her spirit soaring free and far, far away from the cold, terrifying reality of her captivity.

She was vaguely aware of his thrusting climax a few moments later. He sagged against her, his hard-muscled chest mashing her breasts between them, the mirrored wall cold against her back. Finally he stood upright and lifted her from his body, placing her on unsteady feet. What had happened? How was it possible she’d orgasmed in the arms of this monster?