Page 136 of Don't Leave Me

“Fuck, Hana,” Jack moaned after me, returning both hands to my hips, and I could tell he was coming too.

We both stopped, out of breath, my body now totally pressed up against the wall, Jack’s cheek pressed against my shoulder. My thoughts finally came racing back and I was deeply, utterly ashamed and angry. The shame and anger surprisingly not at Jack, but at myself.

31

Chapter 31

Do I deserve this?I kept asking myself as Jack got dressed and I sat in a towel, waiting for my next command.Should I be fighting back more? What’s the point of fighting when I just willingly fucked my captor? I obviously enjoyed myself. I don’t deserve Michael. I deserve to be treated like this. I did this to myself. I kept a secret from Michael and now I deserve whatever happens to me.

Jack suddenly pulled out a bag from under the bed. It looked familiar – it was a black duffle bag with white lining.

“Is that mine?”

Jack nodded then started to unzip it. “Yes. I managed to pack some of your things: clothes, your laptop, some shoes, your makeup bag…” he went on, pulling familiar clothing out of my bag.

I felt myself get tense. “How did you get into my apartment?”

He smiled to himself. “You keep underestimating me, Hana. I have my ways,” he raised his eyebrows at me, his tone disparaging.

I was too tired to argue or question any more.

“Here, put this on. I want you to wear my shirt though,” he said as he tossed my black laced panties near me on the bed.

He wanted me in his shirt, pretending to be his girlfriend. Was I already his girlfriend in his mind? Iwashis, he told me.

I lifted his shirt up to my nose after I slipped my panties on. “It smells like you,” I said quietly, back to work on earning his trust – I wanted to give him compliments, make him think he was getting to me, that his plan was working.

He lovingly grinned at me. “Do you like it?”

I nodded and smiled up at him through my lashes. “Yes.” I was playing shy.

“Are you starting to realize that you miss me?” he questioned, striding towards me from the other side of the bed.

He put his hands to my upper arms and gazed at me, trying to read me. I smiled up at him again, pretending that I was trying to hide it.

“God, I have missed you so much, Hana,” he said before putting his hand up to my cheek.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t know if I could say I had missed him too or if that would go too far, so I said nothing, only grazed my cheek against his hand.

“Will you hold me tonight?” I blinked my eyes back open.

I wasn’t sure if I could bear his body holding mine all night, but I wanted to try whatever I could.

He grinned at me again. “I’d love nothing more, sweetheart,” he whispered.

He led me into bed, pulled the sheets over us and I turned away from him, letting him spoon me. I closed my eyes and pretended that Michael’s arm was holding onto me, thathislips were pressed against the back of my neck. I willed myself not to cry.

* * *

I don’t think I slept at all that night. I felt every move that Jack made as he tossed around in bed. My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I searched around, trying not to move my head.The doors are locked from the inside, and only I have the key. I silently cried several times, wondering how long I would be stuck here, what else I had to psychologically torture myself over. I kept replaying mine and Jack’s shower, wondering why I let him touch me.I had to let him touch me, I had to let him fuck me. He could have said that he was going to kill Michael if I didn’t.But he didn’t. And I liked it.I’m only human. Am I some sort of sexual pervert?It’s not that I had been lacking sex lately – Michael and I had sex nearly every day, sometimes two or three times a day on days he was home.

Before I knew it, the sun started to rise. It grew higher in the sky and I finally turned to look at Jack. He was peacefully sleeping with his arm underneath his pillow, his bare chest poking out from under the cover. Under different circumstances, I would have loved waking up to him. His pouty red lips, his dimpled cheeks, the stubble of facial hair growing out, his toned arms and tattoos…those were all things that I had previously enjoyed about him. He looked like the old Jack now, so sweet and so sensitive and gentle. I closed my eyes and finally was able to rest.

“Hana,” Jack whispered, his hand gently stroking my face.

I blinked my eyes open. Jack was smiling sweetly at me. “Good morning, love.”

I knew that I was dreaming about Michael right before I woke, but the sight of Jack had erased all memory of it.

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