Page 135 of Fixation
When I was his captive.
Run.
I stay.
I do even worse.
A few steps and my ear is pressed to the tiles.
Heat and shame make my cheeks burn.
They make me wet for him.
He’s there. Isn’t cursing. Isn’t saying anything anymore.
What I hear from Anderson’s house is a symphony of sounds. Dulled moans and groans. Feral noises that I’ve come to recognize as his.
He sounded exactly like that when he defiled my mouth. When he robbed me of my virginity and told me he couldn’t stop.
I can’t stand the fact that I’m not repulsed by it. By my kidnapper’s pleasure. By having him there, his fist around his cock, jacking off in the shower.
I hate that I’m jealous of his hand.
For no real reason.
He’s allowed to fuck his hand. Even I think it’s hot.
Fuck it. I’m doing this. My panties are soaked. I feel it as I slip my hand beneath the waistband to relieve the pressure.
I shove two fingers into my pussy, dragging the wetness over my clit. Rubbing and panting. Needing him.
My forehead presses to the wall, my other hand pinching my taut nipple under my shirt.
Just…I’ll touch myself just to take the edge off. To fill the void he’s left in me when he went to work.
I don’t want him.
I need him.
I need him really, really, really bad.
His groans grow louder, making my knees wobble. My breath hitches as I turn around to lean my back against the tiles. I twist my head so that my ear is as close to the wall as possible, pinching my nipple harder like he would.
His teeth were there, I remember, moaning in pain. I stroke my clit faster, in the circular motion that—ah, fuck, yes—gets me closer to my orgasm.
That’s what his tongue did to me.
My body is too small to contain these emotions. This heat. This want. This clawing lust.
They’re pushing, pushing, pushing while I touch myself. While Anderson is there, groaning in the shower.
Pleasuring himself.
Thinking about…me?
“Oh God,” I whisper. I’m assaulted by this good, floaty feeling that I’ve only ever had with Anderson. “Oh God.”
He grunts like the beast he is, and my body responds. I clench my thighs and rock my hips, biting my bottom lip to silence the sounds of my release.
