Abduction (43 page)

She whimpered as he bent forward, his hard prick driving up against her wetness, and she felt the faintest touch of his lips on her breast, his hot breath moistening her nipple in panting gusts. Her sex contracted with sudden fresh arousal as the wet tip of his tongue grazed the very peak of her nipple. Another tiny wet brush of his tongue, another excruciating, wonderful spasm in her sex. When his mouth closed 386

on her nipple, when the hungry pulses of sucking pressure tugged at it, drew in between his lips for his firm wet tongue to lathe, she whimpered and shuddered, and went on gasping for breath and moaning as he licked and sucked the sensitive tip of her breast, wondering if he knew how close she was to climaxing.

Releasing her nipple, wet from his mouth and harder, darker than ever, Vaughn leaned back again, looking at her. She was torn between relief and humiliation, knowing her arousal was apparent, that Vaughn could easily see what he was doing to her. He looked down, and her eyes followed.

The sight of his cock pressing against her belly startled her, somehow, even though she'd looked at it so long and so closely earlier that day, even having had it in her mouth. Now, even with her body stretched out long and taut, seeing the length of his erection reaching from where the base of it nestled between the wet folds of her sex, well up to her navel where the swollen lavender head pressed, she went hot with fresh panic. It couldn't—could not—fit inside of her.

She watched as it slowly retreated, felt it gliding warm and firm against a million seeking sensitive nerves between her legs, and she bit her lip to stop from pleading with poor Vaughn when he had no say either. Fixated in fear she went on watching, and groaned out loud as it bowed back upward, teasing her clit with a long slow stroke instead of threatening to enter her. Slowly he played over her singing nerves, up, then down, fretting her swollen clit, arousing and embarrassing her, the way he watched her face as she whimpered and sighed through the overwhelming pleasure.

When his hands slid down to cradle her ass, when he leaned in, again a blow of sudden fear struck with the promise of imminent penetration, but instead she felt his 387

mouth on her again, kissing her breast, and the mingling sensations of his tongue swathing and flicking her nipple, and his stiff prick sliding back and forth along her wet slit had her flexing and arching and writhing and whimpering against all her efforts at being quiet and still. She was near tears, and almost sure it was for pleasure and want, a mounting, desperate need to come, rather than fear. His hips were pivoting, slowly, subtly, between her thighs, like fucking, but not inside, as the pulsing pull of his mouth on her nipple had her writhing against her bonds, against his firm grip. She was going to…any second…

He stopped. Chill air tickled her wet nipple, her sex throbbed against his suddenly still, stiff prick.

He gave her a tiny, tender kiss at the corner of her upper lip. He was looking at her so sweetly, she almost felt as though he were inside of her—like he felt her fear, her aching need, and she felt his. She wanted her arms free so she could cradle his face in her hands, pull him to her, kiss away the worried furrow between his eyebrows. She wished she could tell him she was ready, even if she wasn't.

He held her gaze and she felt how he trembled as he pulled her close and his hips tilted back a few inches. She felt the length of his shaft sliding down along her moist creases, then caught her breath as she sensed the head of his prick pressing against her. Seeking entry. Stiff, still, she waited.

One arm holding her tight against his chest, Vaughn's other hand coaxed a little tilt from her hips, his hips subtly shifted in answer. She listened to his strained breathing, knowing how he must be straining to be slow. Gentle. Careful. A dull, insistent pressure grew where his hardness pulsed, slightly upward, relented, returned, 388

slow but determined. He was opening her, getting slowly, gradually inside, the dull pressure sharpening to pain as he pushed past the barrier of her virginity.

When she flinched and gasped he looked hurt, went stark still, panting. It wasn't so much pain, she wished she could tell him, wished she could calm, be lax, take him in with a sigh and a soft smile. She looked at him, trying to show she was all right. They held one another's gazes and with a few final firm pushes he was inside her. A torrent of sensation washed over her. Her aching need answered, him, his hard length suddenly filling her, a swirl of hot pleasure mingled with pain. A small sharp pain at the center of swelling aching delight, her sex constricting in a throbbing grip around him. God, he was inside of her.

Not a virgin anymore.

He was still, deep inside of her, holding her, their chests pressed close, their panting falling almost into synch. He kissed her cheek, her ear, her hair. Met her eyes once more and in tiny, subtle motions began to move, inside her, against her.

Hardly any pain. She'd expected more. The shock was how much she felt him inside of her. Moving inside of her. The way Conrad had touched her had not prepared her for this. So filled. So connected. Together. She felt...with him.

And it felt fucking amazing. Her fear ebbed away and her pain died with it and hot need rose up urgent and fierce as she sought him with her body. Strange discomfort that was a form of pleasure she'd never guessed at. Deep. Moving. Touching her insides. Stirring her. A sensation so intense it was like a warning of pain, but one that made her push herself against him seeking more. She didn't realize how she was writhing with him until she saw that he didn't look so scared anymore, that he was 389

searching her face for something other than permission or forgiveness. Their eyes connected she felt a flood of joy wash over her dawning relief and building pleasure.

She smiled. A flicker of an irrepressible, true smile that, for the first time since Conrad had found them, wasn't designed to ease Vaughn's fear and guilt. At that instant Vaughn's whole body changed from rigid, pained restraint as he softened and gave himself over to her.

His body was hot. Hard. Almost still, save his panting and trembling. She was rigid with her body's aching need to feel him move, her sex pulsing around his hard thickness, seeking his next thrust.

He watched her look of fear melt to tenderness and want, and he ached with relief. Then her look went hot and hungry and her whole body seemed to soften, to seek him. Holding her gaze, his fingers in her hair, he began to move, his body against hers, seeking her hot depths.

She groaned with each pulse of his hips between her thighs, pressing up against him. He'd had her so close to the edge before he'd entered her she was already back at the brink, every deep, slow thrust promising imminent, ultimate pleasure. His hot skin glided smooth against hers, the scent of their bodies mingled, his low panting moans whispered to her.

Any second she was going to…so good, so, so good. She had almost forgotten Conrad, forgotten to feel ashamed of her excitement, her enjoyment. Every pulse of his hips got a moan in answer as his full, hard length moved deep into her, as his groin brushed against, pressed her clit, made her shudder as the flood of overwhelming pleasure swept over her. Then he'd wait, letting her savor the diminishing ripples of 390

each wave of sensation. Then he'd draw slowly back, millimeter by millimeter, and she'd feel cool air on her sweaty skin, feel the sweet fullness of him leaving her empty. An almost desperate need would rise in her, and she'd fret, anxious for the moment he'd press himself to her again, drive his cock into her.

He's fucking me. Vaughn's fucking me
, she thought. The image, the internal verbalization of what he was doing to her doubled the thrill of it all.

She whimpered, felt on the verge of tears with the aching need for the climax she felt just out of reach. Almost as if he was keeping it from her. His eyes were right with her, watching every change on her face, reading her. Taking her up against the edge, taking her back with him, over and over.

Fuck, she wanted. Wanted. Every groan was a plea, begging him to end the torment, the need.

He shifted, one hand palming her ass, holding her hard to him, their noses nearly touching, eyes locked, breathing in each other's sighs, and hit a rhythm, subtle, pulses on a beat, hitting her clit, hitting her deepest depth on every tiny thrust, and suddenly the tight knot of heavy pleasure came undone, and her sex, her belly, her whole body collapsed in spasms. He pulsed against her, thrust into her, and she cried out—a naked, unleashed cry of unendurable pleasure.

Relief. Almost happiness. He hadn't known if he, if she'd be able to, under the circumstances. God, she was so…Still inside her, he felt an ache to somehow be closer to her.

Through it all she'd held his gaze, let him see her after she'd let her mask of stoicism slip, let him see her fear, her pain, her arousal, her pleasure, her naked need, then her submission, the obliteration of pretense and safety as she'd succumbed to her climax, and then that sweet vulnerability that comes after. Devan. Dev.

Now he'd have to. He wanted to, more than anything he could think of at the moment. And he'd have to. It felt selfish. Wrong. But the moment he moved against her he felt her straining toward him, her body seeking his, and he almost forgot his guilt.

It wouldn't take much. He'd been straining to hold back almost since he'd entered her. He'd wanted her, differently but overwhelmingly, since that first day. And those days together felt like months, months of yearning need.

Now he was inside her, her body hot and damp against him, her eyes seemingly watching his face for pleasure now as he'd been watching hers, and even the tiniest movement made her catch her breath, her bottom lip quivering, making him soft, and hard and hot all at once.

The feeling of him inside of her was different now that she'd come, Unbearably sensitive, terribly uncomfortable, but in a way that made her seek him needfully. He had stopped, held her still and close through her climax, and after. Now he was moving, slowly, and every tiny movement, away, then driving slowly back inside, made her pant and writhe.

His face. So different now. New torment. His need. His eyes seeking hers, revealing, vulnerable.

His whole body trembling, flexed and quivering against her. His broad chest heaving though he was barely moving.

Forehead pressed to hers, his fingers deep in her hair, their breath breezing over each other's faces she felt his body go rigid, felt one sudden deep thrust as he pressed himself hard against her, heard his long, low groan, a look like bewilderment in his eyes.

She could feel it! The pulsing of his cock deep inside her as he came. Totally amazed she listened with her whole body to Vaughn's climax—his groaning breath, his quivering body, how his arms, his hands were holding her so tight, his seeking eyes, his cock twitching deep within her.

Kiss, yes, kiss, His mouth on hers now was so good. Warm and sweet.

She wished she could hold him, stroke his hair, his back, his arms. Caress his face.

The kissing stopped. Why did he look that way? Startling, the feeling of him sliding out of her. Her sudden emptiness. The chill of cold air on her hot, damp skin as he let her out of his arms, backed away, slipped from the bed. Back to the chair by the door. And then she watched with dawning horror as he latched the cuff locked to the iron pipe down on his wrist.

She couldn't look, couldn't look. His footsteps approaching from the chair in the corner, slow, steady, closer and closer.

"Devan."

She forced her eyes up, to the sight of Conrad looming over her with his familiar grin of anticipation.

NINE: Cat and Mouse

Conrad wanted very badly to press a tender kiss to her forehead, and he'd started to bend over her to do just that. But she was looking at him…well, with real horror. He'd not seen that look of mingled terror and revulsion since she'd come to in the car, when she'd first realized he was abducting her.

So, instead of pressing his lips to her brow, as he wanted, he tried to calm her with a tender smile.

"Shhhh. I'm just going to loosen these."

Conrad opened the silk noose around her right wrist, then her left, and gently set her arms down at her sides. Hardly any marks. Just a tad pink.

"Get up, Devan darling. Here."

When she stood he wrapped her in a finely crocheted throw of Vaughn's, and led her out, closing the door softly behind them, not failing to notice, of course, Vaughn's fretful and unabashedly threatening look. He guided her into the bathroom, then pulled that door to.

"All right, love?"

He hadn't managed to sound quite as light as he'd intended. She studied his face a moment, then nodded.

"Good girl."

Now that she was untied and off the bed that look of horror had faded. He cradled her face in his hands, and she let him, and didn't pull away when he pressed a kiss to the warm crown of her head, her hair soft against his lips.

"Let's run you a warm bath, shall we?"

He opened the hot water faucet and stoppered the tub when the water started steaming. Then, for a makeshift bubble bath uncapped the big bottle of shampoo on the edge of the tub and poured a measure out under the steaming stream of water. A cursory search, during which he pocketed a couple sharp objects, satisfied him there was no reason not to give her a bit of privacy.

"Go on love, get in. I'm just going to uncuff Vaughn and let him get dressed. Take your time."

He left her standing beside the steaming, foaming tub, huddled nude beneath her wrap of beige angora, gazing after him with a most peculiar expression.

Much later, when she'd finished bathing, she opened the bathroom door. Conrad promptly rose from the armchair by the fire and came to her.

"Come along, Devan. Let's get you to bed."

She went cold and rigid with fear as he took her arm, afraid of the meaning behind his words. He drew her into the bedroom, turned down the covers, and coaxed her into bed. Like a parent he tucked her in, pulling the covers up close by her chin. She let out a long, silent sigh of relief.