Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1) Page 8

  Her kidnapper pulled the cube away, and she was flush with relief, panting and leaning forward and to the side. But the cube hadn’t melted away, and her other breast was ready and waiting.

  Another cruel tour of her sweating breast created another long, cold burn that slowly found its way to her nipple which pushed out with greater anticipation than ever, even greater than seemed possible. And when that cube hit it, her nipple nearly crackled with excited resistance. He dragged the cube down under to trace the curves below and to the side, cold water dripping down into her sizzling crotch.

  He took the other cube, which he’d set aside, and another. With one cube in each hand, the kidnapper knelt in front of her chair once more. He put one cube onto the top of each of Kat’s naked feet, toes clenching as he dragged them slowly over and traced the bones of her feet with precision. He took his time drawing the cubes up her calves—front and both sides—swirling lines of cold water that meandered their way to her knees.

  She flinched again, trying to pull her legs free. He scanned her legs, slowly moving upwards to her thighs. She could see that his attention was fixed on her crotch and her legs as she flexed and pulled. She wanted him to see her relish her captivity. And what was more, it was clear by the way his eyes lit up, the hungry look on his face that he was enjoying it every bit as much as she was. She was his prey, and he was ready to devour her.

  And that, made it even better.

  The kidnapper couldn’t resist the allure of her pussy, her grinding hips, those sweet and supple curves. And as he eased those ice cubes up her thighs, outside, top, and inside of her thighs, inching them closer and closer to a source of heat they would not survive.

  But it would take a while for them to melt away entirely, and when he let the two cubes go and they naturally slid down to settle right over Kat’s labia, both of them were painfully aware of the fact. Those cubes brought an instant numbness to the smoldering and sensitive area. Kat tried to buck and push the cubes away, but gravity wouldn’t be corrected, and those gleeful little cubes remained, slowly leaking cold water down into her seat, pussy aching with the thumping chill.

  After what seemed like an eternity, her kidnapper reached in and brushed the melting cubes away, bringing Kat instant relief. The cold water remained, but her skin was quickly regaining its responsiveness. The kidnapper leaned in and rubbed his hand over her pussy, fingers massaging the labia, rubbing the little vaginal mound just above where her two lips met. Kat was so wrapped up in the ice torture that even though she loved the recuperative powers of his prodding fingers, her body was in struggle mode and she couldn’t allow herself to luxuriate in his mastery. And the more she pulled away, shaking her head and whining her pitiful protests, the faster he rubbed. Her body knew the connection, a scream rising up from the bottom of her lungs to inspire even more faux fear, even more drastic wriggling, even more frenzied action by her fantastic abductor. She could see the true connection, the real cause and effect. He seemed to have the power, he seemed to be in control, but in a strange and wonderful way she was only then discovering, the reverse was actually true. Kat was calling the shots, and she had been from the start.

  And he knew it too.

  The kidnapper stepped away from the chair, leaving her a panting mess, dizzy with chemical surges and natural urges. She was wet, drenched, and an orgasm wasn’t far off. But Kat fought it the way she fought her kidnapper—because she wanted to inspire it, not escape it. But she wanted to wait, quickly becoming an addict of anticipation.

  Her kidnapper reached into his duffel bag and rummaged around. He looked at her while he did it, and she knew he was taking his time, making her wait and wonder what he was going to brandish next. “You’re very brave,” he said in a sexy growl. “I admire that. But I think you know what I want to hear.” Kat looked straight at him, trying not to reveal that she did know what he wanted to hear, and she was coming very close to saying it.

  No, don’t say it, don’t ever say it! I’m not…that’s not what I want, that’s not what I need.

  Kat went on lying to herself, knowing somehow, somewhere in the back of her mind, that not only was it what she both wanted and needed, desperately, but that refusing those impulses was all part of the role, part of the dance. And she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.

  “Okay,” her kidnapper said, pulling a cigarette lighter out of the duffle bag: a big silver Zippo. He held it out in front of her, a silent threat.

  What’s he going to do? He’s…he’s not going to burn me? I’m all tied up; he could douse me with gasoline and burn me alive! Oh God …

  Then the kidnapper pulled something else out of the bag. He held a long, white candle with his other hand, each object next to the other.

  A sigh of relief escaped her lips; she slumped forward a bit, her eyes locked on the candle. The kidnapper looked at the two items, a little smile on his handsome face. “Y’know what they used to say in the sixties.” The kidnapper held the Zippo in an odd manner, thumb under the base, index and middle finger over the top. Then with a quick snap, the top of the lighter popped open and flipped around, now opened and ready to burn. He leaned forward and pressed the little grinding wheel igniter against his knee and, with a quick roll, brought flame to the lighter. He lit the candle, letting it build up a big, scary flame. “Burn, baby, burn.”

  He closed the lighter and pocketed it, holding the candle in front of her face, letting her eyes follow it as he passed it slowly from side to side, taunting her. The first big drip hit Kat’s thigh—sudden and close and hot—a startling contrast to the quicksilver cold of the ice cubes. Kat bit down on her lower lip, retracting from another possible hot droplet, and it was fast in coming, two more hot blobs sizzling on her dewy skin. It was a little pinpoint flash of heat that faded almost as quickly as it appeared, though it did linger a bit between those two points.

  The kidnapper stood and pulled the candle away, both to her relief and to her regret. But he walked slowly around to resume his position behind her, but now he was holding a steady flame.

  He’s not going to set my hair on fire? New panic shot through her. Why did he say that: “Burn, baby, burn”?

  Once behind her, her eyes stayed on him, her body twisted as far as the chair and her bonds would allow. The man reached around with his left hand, once again setting it firmly on the bottom of her chin. A gentle but certain pressure forced her head back again; this time she could feel his torso against the back of her head. She could barely shake her head, but she did it as much as she could, urging him to continue in a way that they both understood.

  He asked, “Say it yet?” Kat stopped shaking her head and looked straight up at him. But she didn’t say it.

  Her kidnapper held the candle high enough to be out of reach of her face, though she could feel the heat from the little flame. With her head bent back, she had to look downward just to see the candle tilted upside down and the thick wads of wax dripping from its burning wick.

  The droplets started falling fast as the flame grew—a long black curl of burnt wick growing as the candle shrank. They landed hot and unseen, little bursts of prickling heat on her breasts—one even landing on a nipple with a sensational sting.

  “Say it, Lena!”

  No, she told herself, don’t say it, not yet!

  The drops kept falling, hitting her smooth abdomen, her pelvis quivering with every chaotic strike. Her orgasm was raging with frustration with every hot button landing near it. It was sexual warfare and her body was the battlefield, bombs tearing up the landscape, rebellion rising up from the depths.

  Say it, Kat told herself, it’s going to happen, it has to happen! Let it happen now!

  But she only groaned into her gag, a muffled cry of wordless wonder. Heat dripped onto her, through her, inside of her, the barrage of hot droplets becoming more than she could endure. She tried to pull away again, but he held her head close to his body, hand secure but not brutal, just enough force to keep her in place.
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  Drop, burn, strain, squirm: hot, cold, lust, fear. Her scrambled senses were unable to keep processing it all. Her heart kept pumping those raging chemicals through her blood, into her tissues, that orgasm pounding inside her. Kat’s hips pushed out from the back of the chair, no longer content to be ground into the seat. The very center of her body lurched up on its own, both reaching up for and writhing to get away from that rain of hot wax.

  Another piping prickle of hot wax landed just right on her vaginal mound, lingering for just a second before dripping down her left labia. It was already cooling, but its job was done.

  She was cumming hard now, shaking in that chair, knees wagging from left to right—the only parts of her body capable of any real movement beside her bucking hips and the raging orgasm that kept them dancing.

  Say it, she urged herself, say it now!

  “Yes,” she screamed into her gag, “yes…”

  Her kidnapper leaned forward. “What did you say?”

  Kat jutted her chin at him, indicating her gag. He peeled the gag out of her mouth, her cheeks hurting, mouth sore around the corner. He pulled the rag out of her mouth; her tongue was dry, lips already feeling chapped. Her kidnapper repeated more softly, “What did you say, Lena?”

  Kat cleared her throat, swallowing hard. She turned away and closed her eyes and whispered, “Longshadows.”

  Chapter 10

  Kat

  He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket, just the presence of which worried her. But she was beyond worry, beyond thought. And it was only a flash before he cut through the nylon ropes around her ankles, from behind the chair legs to prevent her from being cut. Her legs felt rubbery and jittery as they became freed, an excess of pent-up energy riddling through them, muscle tension releasing all at once.

  Another swift swipe behind her freed her hands from the back of the chair, though her wrists remained tied together. But her body leaned forward as soon as it could, muscles that had been stretched beyond their will now contracting with a vengeance. But while Kat nearly fell forward and off the chair, her kidnapper was there to scoop her up, effortlessly in one fell swoop, taking her into a cradle-carry and walking her into her bedroom. He knew which was hers, something which registered in her barely functioning brain. She leaned forward, into his armpit, inhaling his intoxicating musk. She was still struggling as they entered the bedroom, and he dropped her down into the mattress.

  She backed up, again out of instinct and because of the radiating power of his presence as he stood by the bed. Even in the moonlit room, his body half a silhouette, Kat could see that he was over six feet, broad-shouldered, a hulking man of massive proportions. She couldn’t help to compare him to a modern version of Neptune, God of the sea, with his longer blond hair and robust body. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it away, revealing his layers of muscle, sculpted as if by some ancient genius or God Himself. Those arms hung at his sides, hands empty but ready. He bent his head to one side, stretching his neck to the faint sound of his vertebrae cracking. A tilt to the other side had the same effect.

  Kat scurried even farther back, her eyes on that perfect specimen before her. He pulled something small out of his pocket, undid his belt, and dropped his pants. The light caught her first vision of his titanic tool—fast growing, rising up to peer at her, a third arm reaching out to grab her, invade her, tear her apart. He slipped the condom over his huge hammer, and that gave Kat all the reassurance she needed to completely let herself go.

  She couldn’t wait to fight against that meaty monster of a cock to the bitter end.

  He stalked toward the bed, and she felt the wall, flat and hard against her from behind. She was out of room, out of options, out of time. The buildup was over; the overture had been played out. It was time for the symphony.

  Once at the side of the bed, Kat’s kidnapper grabbed her ankle and pulled her, sliding across the bed. Her hands still tied behind her, all she could do was kick with her other leg. But she was careful not to hit his gorgeous face with that limp leg, still tired from her session in the chair.

  He pulled her to him, one of her legs on each side of his narrow, compact hips. Standing by the bed, he was taller than the level she was laying at. So he pulled her legs up, Kat feeling confused and enticed by the rush as his cock entered her from above. Instead of going down on her, he was bringing her up to him in a classic pile-driver position, something else Kat had heard about but never experienced. His manhood was thick and long, a perfect extension of the muscular man himself. But she was so worked up, so ready and wanton, she managed to take him in, at least to the first few inches. His girth pushed her molten clit aside, her nerves stinging as it raked over them. She felt like she’d been waiting all her life for that moment, and there was nothing she wanted more than to pull that thing in as deep as she could and clench it with all her might.

  But he was holding all the cards, and he was holding her and pulling her up in a steady series of jutting little motions that had her tits jiggling upside-down in quivering mounds of rippling flesh. Kat tried to use her legs to climb up higher, to pull herself closer so he’d be even deeper inside her, but those jittery movements had her orgasm roiling again and she just couldn’t coordinate her muscles to her brain.

  But he could read her body, and her mind, and he pulled her up with one quick motion, his hands sliding over her hips to her waist, pulling harder to drive his engorged cock deeper into her. It hurt just a bit, but Kat wanted it to hurt more, and she was becoming desperate to make that happen.

  She pulled at her ropes, arms nearly frozen at her sides after all that time, barely a part of her body anymore. But what little feeling she did have, she wanted to use to wrap around his neck, to pull herself up and fuck him face to face. She wanted to pull herself as close as possible and then closer still, to impale herself on that spike if she had to.

  But she couldn’t, and that drove her even wilder. She shook her body, trying to compensate, and that motion inspired an answer from her kidnapper—a shake of his own powerful hips—making her arch her back, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes wide in a desperate bid to cum or die or both.

  Another hard yank brought her higher up, that magical cock driving down even deeper. God, yes, a voice inside her screamed out, my…God…yesssss…

  Her world was upside-down, and once the tumult of her inner world was blasted away by the irrational reign of her tyrannical orgasm, she could sense an emptiness, a disconnection from the man who was inside her but not in front of her, in a room she lived in but no longer recognized.

  And again that masterful man above seemed to read her need, what she desired and required. He lowered her down to the mattress, the blood flow evening out fast but getting faster as her back slid easily onto the sheets. Then his tremendous body followed suit as he lowered himself over her. His cock never left its perfect positioning, and he had even greater access above her. But he knew enough not to drop that massive weight flat onto her. His thick, muscle-strewn arms were like columns on each side of her upper arms, and he seemed to hover above her, looming, moonlight splashing off his timeless face.

  And in this more comfortable position, gravity was no longer Kat’s enemy but her ally, supporting her, giving her the power she needed to get what she wanted. Her legs wrestled to pull up around his thick torso, finally meeting each other at the small of his back. Her ankles werelocked in together with what little strength she had left, holding on tight.

  But her kidnapper was ready to go deeper, long strokes reaching depths that Kat didn’t even know she had, a fast rotation of in-and-out pummeling that pushed her to the very edge of her senses. It was more than she could take, but she needed even more. The pain of his erection was deep and hard inside her—a luscious agony.

  He interrupted his lateral pattern with circular patterns that excited new clusters of nerve endings in her clit, each sending electrical impulses through her body which echoed straight back with even greater power. Her
body was an acoustical chamber for the waves of his physical and sexual energy, and it was only getting louder, threatening to shatter her completely.

  The symphony was about to climax, and so were they both.

  Kat wanted to scream, but she knew that, despite not being gagged and no hand clamped over her mouth, that if she did scream it would be so long and so loud that it would alert everybody else in the building, on the block, in the whole borough of Brooklyn.

  So she clamped her own lips together, fighting the urge to scream, wishing he’d gagged her, smothered her with a pillow, anything. Instead it was up to her to keep it in, as it had always been. She clenched down with her powerful labial muscles, clamping and pulling even as he drove himself into and around her in a flurry of sexual mania.

  Kat felt the twitch and pulse of that huge cock inside her as it finally delivered its potent package, an eruption of cum that came in waves, each seeming even stronger than the last. Her body tensed, her pussy clamping down on his cock, with all the rest of her dwindling might.

  He tensed too, but their bodies relaxed together in sync, a panting hush surrounding them like the cloud of their own mutual musk, muscles of every limb drawing tight one last time before finally able to relax and slowly unwind. It would take ten minutes before she was certain what her name was, where she was, who she was.

  Soon after, he discretely disposed of the condom, got them both fresh towels and came back to bed, wrapping his giant arms around her and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Kat couldn’t help but smile as she nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his musk and savouring the intimate moment that was unfolding before her. She thought to herself, “My God, this is what it’s supposed to be like, to be with a real man. That was amazing…more than I could have ever imagined. I’m never going to forget this experience, and if I can help it I won’t have to!"