His Captive

Dropping chopped onions in the pot, the anger rises in my chest again, making me see red.

Shit. The first pretty woman that comes his way and Chance is all googly-eyed and proposing marriage like a dumb fuck.

It’s a well-known fact that we Morgans are loaded. That explains why this woman is so drawn to him.

The bitch is clearly looking for a payday.

So what the hell is wrong with him? Can’t he see? Shit, there’s a long line of ancestors who worked hard for this money. And he’s gonna throw it away on a little slut with a creamy pussy? What the fuck is wrong with him? Busty gold diggers have no place in my family tree, no matter how tempting they are.

So yeah, kidnapping Anna’s for the best. Kidnapping Anna makes sense.

And stirring the pot in front of me, I throw in some salt and other seasonings. But it doesn’t take long for my mind to wander back to Anna. It’s annoying how easily her face comes to mind. That soft voice. Those huge tits. FUCK! My poor brother never stood a chance.

But he’ll forget her. Out of sight, out of mind, especially when your penis is your guide. Besides, Chance has the attention span of a squirrel. If he doesn’t see her for a week or so, he’ll forget. He’ll meet some other sweet thing with huge tits, and propose marriage to her instead. Crisis averted. For the time being.

But what about me? How the hell am I supposed to survive being alone with her until that happens? How the fuck am I gonna resist? My balls ache, cock growing stiff. But this isn’t the time.

Finishing the stew, I reduce the burner to a low heat setting so that it continues to simmer. And grabbing a bowl, I spoon out a hefty serving, settling in for a hearty meal. Flavor bursts on my tongue because the stew’s fucking delicious, a masterpiece.

And as I eat, my mind wanders. I seriously consider starving the woman upstairs. It would serve her right to be deprived of nutrients. But if she starves, I’ll have even more trouble on my hands. A skeleton is way worse than a live woman. Because what’s happened isn’t exactly legit.

So spooning some broth into a bowl, I grab it and head upstairs to give it to her. She’ll have to make do without any utensils. It’s the only way I can think of to exact a semblance of revenge at the moment.

Let her slurp it up like a fucking cat.

Stomping up the stairs, I steel myself to see her again.

Shoulders squared and jaw clenched tight, I unlock the door and expect to find her weeping form huddled in the corner, sad and depressed.

Instead, what I see surprises me.

Because sitting on the edge of the bed, Anna’s back is ramrod straight. Her regal posture puts the huge, round globes of her breasts on full display. And when the door snicks open, she turns to me with wary eyes.

Although caution and distrust are clearly visible, not a single tear is in sight. Nor are there any dried streaks on her cheeks to suggest that she cried in my absence.

She hasn’t collapsed yet and a part of me is furious that I haven’t been able to break her yet. But I will. I’ll destroy this little chickadee, there’s no doubt about that.

But deep down, I can’t help but be impressed. The woman is obviously a lot stronger than I’ve given her credit for, unwilling to let me so easily conquer and win.

Despite the turmoil of the day, her beautiful face looks fresh and radiant. There is a nasty bruise forming near her temple and I know it’s a result of the rough journey she spent trapped in the trunk.

My cock is already responding from being this close to her. Watching the rise and fall of her busty tits, I feel my dick twitching inside my boxers.

Fucking hell.

This woman is a conniving golddigger as well as my prisoner at the moment. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I shove the stew at her and watch her startled gaze land on the huge bowl.

“Thank you,” she whispers gratefully. Her voice has a raspy quality now.

With her hands wrapped around the dish, she continues eyeing me intently. Those brown eyes are swimming with questions and I’m not interested in sticking around to answer them. But my dick twitches reflexively as she opens that pink pout for her first bite of stew.

Awww, fuck. It’s a shapely, plush “O,” perfect for sucking.

But there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her witness the way my cock reacts around her. She’ll let it go to her head, thinking she has all the power if she finds out how fucking sexy I find her.

Under no circumstances can that happen. So turning swiftly, I head for the door to make my escape.