Captive (Social Experiments #1) (12 page)

We fucked frantically, desperate to reach the climbing point we both aspired to achieve. I couldn’t stop once Yvonne began to meet my eager pace. I couldn’t think about anything but the way her body clenched around me, warning of the impending orgasm soon to come.

“Faster, Jake, faster!” she urged me. Her nails bit into my chest, my fingers bruised her hips, but we didn’t dare to stop. We became lost to the moment and the frenetic slapping of her pussy against my body. Even the slightest touch of my thumb to her clit subjected her to shudders.

Yvonne climaxed before me. She became motionless and still, her head thrown back and eyes completely shut. Her body shuddered, quivering both breasts within the grip of my anxious hands. I squeezed and kneaded them as ardently as she’d rode my cock, but the tremulous shudders around my shaft were my undoing. She milked me in a rhythmic clenching that released the tightly wound tension in my balls.

I spurted inside her, and our harmonious moans of ecstasy filled the quiet sublevel, breathy cries and deeper groans mingling as one.

We spooned during the second movie. Yvonne’s ass pressed against my cock, successfully renewing my interest in sex. Instead of providing what she wanted immediately, I casually played with her pussy and ran my fingers over her swollen folds. She and I both delighted in my decision to tease her clit on and off with a vibrator. I made her climax a second time, and she reciprocated by giving me my first titty-fucking.

Yvonne admitted that Greg never enjoyed her playfulness. Her ex got his rocks off and rolled over to forget about her, if he didn’t jump into his clothes and leave altogether. His predecessor hadn’t been much better.

Occasionally, I kissed her ear and murmured one of my pathetic attempts to speak French. Those had always made her laugh, and that remained unchanged between us. After three years of college study and her tutoring, I should have had more than a passing knowledge.

“Look, Jake… I - it’s-” Yvonne stumbled over her words awkwardly. I didn’t rush her. It was important to allow her the time she needed to adjust to her new role. She’d bared her body to me and given me something special, and in return, I planned to grant her this moment to sort through her tumultuous feelings. “I never knew you were good in bed like this,” she blurted out.

“We barely did anything.” I failed to maintain my poker face. Our serious conversation devolved into pitiful snickers and moments of laughter. Holding Yvonne melted away the struggles of a decade. I buried my face in her dark hair and breathed her in. I loved her.

It was time to summon up my nerve and all of my courage. “Do you want to be like this with me, Yvonne? Do you trust yourself to my control?” I asked after precious minutes ticked by.

“I thought that I made that apparent when I sucked you off,” Yvonne stated. Her brow creased to reveal her confusion.

“I’m talking about more than sex. This is about more than battery-operated toys. I’m talking about continuing this once you’re free from the basement. About giving yourself over to me.” I gestured with one hand toward the pile of books depicting girls in various poses of submission. “Like your books.”

“Like my books?” she repeated.

“Yes, baby. Do you want that? Or is it too early? Do you need more time?” No, no, I corrected myself internally. I had to be confident, and I couldn’t second guess anything.

“Jake…” Tears glittered at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away quickly with the back of her hand.

I left her makeshift bed and fetched a rectangular jewelry box from the bag of goodies brought downstairs with our dinner. This time, I didn’t join her. I chose to remain standing, but it was a struggle to conceal how nervous I felt. “This is a symbol of my promise to you, Yvie. Come here.”

Yvonne crawled the short distance to me on her hands and knees. Opening the box revealed an eight-stranded pearl choker. Each individual ivory sphere gleamed brilliantly beneath the sparse light. I had stumbled across the piece in an antique store and knew at that very moment, that it was destined for Yvonne and fate had delivered me there. “I promise to be your Dom. To take care of you always. To be there when you need me.”

Sniffling and failing to suppress the tiny sobs escaping her throat, Yvonne tearfully nodded her head. She wiped her cheeks with increasing frequency to dry away the tears flowing freely down her face. “Yes. I want it. I want it so much, Ja-” She halted herself and inhaled a steady breath. “Sir.”

“Good girl.” I fastened the pearls around her throat. “You will keep these on unless I direct you to take them off. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Yvonne’s shoulders shook with unconcealed emotion. Her reaction touched me to my soul and stirred something that I didn’t know existed.

It was the beginning of more than a friendship. When I dreamed of Yvonne becoming my girl, I never thought it would happen like this.

But I also didn’t know if I could trust her. If Yvonne had only played along with my game to escape captivity, I would lose everything.

My friend.

My home.

My freedom.

Chapter 9

An early evening visitor roused me from sleep with a few sharp raps on the door. I staggered out of the bed and ran my fingers through my messy hair as I crossed the narrow hall.

Usually, I would have preferred to doze in the basement with Yvonne, but I needed to spend more time in the public eye. The neighbors had already commented once, questioning my new devotion to fitness since I often didn’t hear their calls or knocks while in the basement. Miss James seemed especially concerned about my well-being.

I felt like a thin girl who had been asked too often if she needed a sandwich. I would never question a woman’s eating habits again. Without a glance at the peephole, I yanked open the door and leaned against the frame to greet my visitor.

My friendliest tenant waited in the foyer, shivering and cold in a rain-dampened wool coat. “Huh? Good evening, Miss James. Something wrong upstairs?” I rubbed my right eye tiredly and squinted at her again. My contacts were in the bathroom, so I had to lean toward the woman to keep her in focus.

She didn’t say anything at first. She stared. A pretty blush of color snuck into her freckled cheeks

The reason became crystal clear once I retraced the path of her attentive gaze to my bare chest. I bit the inside of my cheek and managed to maintain a straight expression. “Is something wrong?” I repeated. A couple years ago, had I been caught in the same predicament, I would have blushed, too. Instead, I felt a streak of hot-blooded narcissism. I worked hard to hone this body into a physique suitable for Men’s Fitness magazine, and fuck it felt good to show it off.

“Oh, I… um…” Her gaze jerked up to my face and her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. The innocent gesture caught my attention. “Sorry. I thought I’d stop by and ask how everything was. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I dozed off I guess. Here, come inside. You look like you’re freezing. I didn’t realize it was still raining.”

“Oh, you’re sure?”

“Yeah. Give me a sec to toss something on.”

I took her coat and hung it on the hook beside the door, but then I took it back down and held it toward her. “Maybe I should toss this into the dryer for you instead? Anything in the pockets that you want to save?”

“No, probably just lint and old receipts in there. Thank you, Jake.”

“Make yourself at home. There’s juice in the fridge if you want. Or beer.”

After I tossed the wool coat into the dryer on the low setting, I trekked into the bedroom and pulled on sweats and a plain white t-shirt.

She loitered in my kitchen looking at my small pile of dishes. Nothing too horrible but I felt a brief stab of embarrassment. I never realized how much I relied on Yvonne’s help in my home.

“I saw the police again outside,” she started off. “They were just canvassing again, they said, but I didn’t have much to tell them. Never really spoke with you roommate much.” Miss James eased to my sink and pressed the stopper into the drain.

“I know. It’s out of our hands now,” I replied. “Oh come on, Miss James, you don’t have to do that.” I stepped toward her in alarm, chagrined by my neighbor’s decision to clean my kitchen.

“It’s fine,” she assured me, smiling over one shoulder. “And you can call me Cassie, really. So is this kind of thing normal for her? Disappearing I mean.”

Unfortunately, it was normal for Yvonne. I shook my head. The truth would suffice for now. “Yvonne ran away with her thirty year old boyfriend when she was 16. Didn’t come home for a month until her parents threatened to have him arrested for statutory rape,” I confessed. “This kind of behavior is typical for her. Hell, I wouldn’t be so worried if I at least knew who she ran away to fuck this time.” Under normal circumstances, I minded my language around Miss James. Having her in my home like this changed things. The new developments in my life changed things; I wasn’t the same man anymore.

“The tall guy with the smushed nose?” she asked hesitantly. She turned off the faucet and started washing plates and bowls in the sudsy water. “I, uh, ran into him a couple times the nights I came home late.”

“He didn’t bother you did he?” The idea of Greg harassing Cassie, or anyone else in my building, made me see red. The fucker got exactly what he deserved.

“No, not really. Just loud mostly, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Yeah, well, Greg went missing, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were together.” I shrugged it off, feigning indifference and forcing my temper to cool. Time and practice made me better at this dishonesty thing. I moved over and started rinsing the clean dishes she stacked in the second sink.

“That’s a shame. I’m not really the sort to chat about people but I never did like running into him, you know? Especially that late.”

“He’s a dick who slaps his girlfriends around. Don’t feel bad.”

She turned her head to look at me but instead of disapproval at my blunt language there was only concern in her expression. “You’re worried about her.”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie. Not really. I knew Yvonne was safe, but I worried about her life choices. Every action I’d made over the past three weeks had been to protect her. I worked too fucking hard to let a couple nosy cops ruin it.

The act had to continue, and it had to be good no matter who I spoke to.

Cassie and I finished the dishes in relative quiet but it was the nice sort. She didn’t push me for more info, and really, I enjoyed her company.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked, glancing at the time. It was a quarter to 7.

“My Aunt Dina has him tonight and tomorrow. She’s taking him to the movies and giving me a silent, dull night.” Cassie chuckled softly. “I’m glad for the break sometimes, but then I don’t know what to do with myself. You know? What are you doing tonight?”

“Uh. I… this is kinda it,” I replied. I grinned at her and shrugged my shoulders. “Today and tomorrow are my usual days off, but I picked up some extra hours.” Work had nothing to do with my reasons for planning a quiet evening in, but Cassie didn’t need to know that.

“You know, I could whip up some pasta or something if you’d like to come up for a meal.” Cassie tucked an auburn curl behind her ear as she made the offer.

“I hate imposing…” I trailed off, thinking of Yvonne and her expressed need to have a break from my poor cooking skills. To save money, I’d tried to whip up a casserole in the oven on my own. It wasn’t edible. “How about I order in some Chinese?”

“The place down the street on the corner? Their cheese and crab stuffed wontons are amazing.” Her hazel eyes lit up. I’d never really noticed them before but the color was a nice mix of gold and green. Mine were mostly brown with a hint of blue. “Here, I’ve got a twenty in my pocket.”

The twenty would have been nice, but I wasn’t strapped for cash lately. Taking control of Yvonne’s life was the best choice I ever made. Hell, without her impulse purchases and overindulgences, I made out better in the long run.

“Nah. It’s cool. All the times you’ve brought me cookies and meat loaf? I can cover some cheap takeout.”

“Only once. The meatloaf at least. And if you didn’t help me eat cookies I’d be a whale,” she laughed.

I raked my eyes over her briefly from head to toe, pleased by the rose flush seeping into the apples of her cheeks. Cassie tended to wear casual clothes and comfortable jeans inappropriately sized for her waifish, thin frame. “Uh huh. I kinda find that difficult to believe. C’mon. It’s this way.”

The upstairs living room was clean at least. A little dusty from disuse. We settled on the couch and rented an action flick from the digital movie service I used. With a menu spread on the coffee table in front of us, we used a pencil to order more food than two people could eat. I told her I was big on leftovers and not a great cook. It was true. I only survived my undergrad years thanks to Gramps cooking for me.

The comic book to movie adaptation distracted us from our hunger pangs. I ran down to meet the delivery man with a couple twenties when he arrived thirty minutes later with our order.

“This is nice. I get to talk to people all the time at work but mostly it’s just pleasantries,” Cassie explained. She waitressed at a posh, overpriced seafood restaurant where diners bought fifty dollar dishes and glasses of wine more expensive than what I made in an hour.