Her Beast (Beauty and the Captor 1) - Page 17

“Stop resisting, Pet. It will be over quicker if you don’t fight it.”

I knew what he was saying was true. All my effort was doing little more than slowing my body’s ascent. Unless he stopped, it was going to happen soon. I could feel the coil winding up tight inside me. But I couldn’t just stop. I couldn’t be a willing participant in my own humiliation.

So, I continued to fight him, clenching my body and gritting my teeth against the spin of the coil, winding faster, tighter by the second.

He increased his pace even more, determined to overcome my resistance, and I almost gave in. God, how I wanted to give in. The sensations were overwhelming, the first bit of real pleasure since I’d ended up in this wretched place.

He moved faster, his finger gliding easily, soaked in my own juices. I was so close. So damn close. No. Yes. No. No! I had to fight. But as I neared the top, my body took over. It refused to fight, to resist. All that existed was his finger on my clit. But then his other hand was on my ass, squeezing my stinging flesh. God, it hurt, and it felt so good as if the pain and pleasure had combined to create a new sensation—one I hadn’t known existed.

I writhed against him, and the moans I’d fought so hard against turned to cries. “Please,” I cried, but I wasn’t begging him to stop. I was pleading for something else, for the release that hovered on the brink.

And then I was toppling over. I’d asked, and he’d delivered, springing free the coil that had wound tight inside me and sending out waves of blissful pleasure from my sex.

I sagged against him as the waves receded, and only realized then that with his hand on my backside, that meant he hadn’t been holding me down. I could have scrambled away, but I hadn’t. I’d laid there, writhing, on fire and begging for the orgasm he’d given me.

I did scramble down off his lap then, and he didn’t stop me. I ran across the room to the corner—my corner.

He didn’t demand that I come back. He didn’t even laugh at me like I’d been expecting him to do. In fact, he seemed to ignore me completely as he turned his attention to the tray of food. He seemed relaxed as he sliced the food and began to eat, but there was a tension that radiated from him, all the way across the room.

It wasn’t anger—what did he have to be angry about? He’d humiliated me more than I thought was possible for a person to be. He was probably quite pleased with himself at the moment. Still, the tension remained through bite after bite, and eventually, I recognized it. I couldn’t not. Not when it had been the same tension that had held my body in its grip when he’d had his wretched fingers on me. Spanking me, or turning my body against me, or some combination of both had turned him on.

Without my permission, my eyes darted to the fly of his pants, looking for confirmation. And the massive bulge I found there left no doubt.

So, this was sexual for him. Then why had he spent so much time tormenting me with silence? I’d dismissed the possibility after what must have been days of near-total solitude. And it wasn’t that I wanted it—I didn’t want this to be sexual, no matter how much my body had just proved otherwise. But I needed to understand, to know what exactly my future held in store. Or maybe I just needed to think about something—anything—other than how my body had just turned against me and responded to the devil’s touch just moments before. Trying desperately to fight back more tears, it was easier to try to analyze him than to turn the looking glass inward.

It dawned on me then what he was doing. He was eating my food. When it was gone, there would be no more until he returned. And I had run back to the very spot this had started. If I wanted food, I would have to crawl over to him—to the man who had taken humiliation to a whole new level—and kneel before him like a good pet. But I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to see the knowledge in his eyes of what I’d let happen.

No, I would rather starve.

He finished my meal while I huddled in the corner. I tried not to look at him, but sick curiosity kept drawing my eyes back. I’d never seen one before—the thick bulge in his pants. I’d seen drawings in health class and had learned that a penis increased in size when a man was aroused. But I’d never imagined it could grow that much.

Tags: Nicole Casey Beauty and the Captor Erotic
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