Page 4 of Knot Enough
I opened my mouth, but a hand slapped over half my face, muffling the noise. Immediately, I chomped down, but only got a mouthful of whatever material separated us. I tried again, uncaring of the rough burlap on my tongue, and this time, I bit into his hand. My success was short-lived because instead of cursing or yelling out, a seductive chuckle vibrated near my ear.
The effect was immediate; the deep, gravely sound went straight to my clit.What the hell is happening? This was the wrong situation to be feeling this way, but that was another issue. I was reeling with my body's response.
I was attracted to my kidnapper?
Every hair on my neck stood on end, and my body tensed as my abductor’s jaw dug into my temple. My sister came to mind. My weight had been the punchline to every one of her fat jokes, but I shrugged it off because I knew that in the event of a kidnapping, I would be safe. My thick thighs and rolls would play in favor when it came down to it. And any such kidnapper would go for her instead of me.
Or so I’d thought.
Adrenaline finally kicked in, and my body came alive. With my body twisted like a snake, I tried to break his hold, but he was too strong. I jerked my shoulders as hard as I could, but the fucker didn’t budge. If I didn’t get away now, I might never get another chance.
“You’re going to have to fight a lot harder than that,” the threatening voice mocked. His sultry voice elicited a response in me. I needed him to be ugly.
Please be ugly.
I jerked as hard as I could, butting him with the back of my head. The satisfying sound of his nose crunching was followed by his cursing. I better have broken something, or at least sprained it. His hold on me weakened, and I dropped and clawed out of his grasp.
“Fuck!”
The bag over my head shifted, and I was able to see the ground seconds before I landed on my feet. I took off, but he grabbed me by the hair. My scalp burned as I was yanked back. Unable to find my footing, I fell on my ass, but kept kicking at him. It wasn’t over.
I screamed as he dragged me by the hair. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I failed to break free. Gravel crunched beneath his feet and scraped my back. I was thrown down, and I cried out as rocks dug through the bag into my face. The sound of a car door opening made me whimper as hands gripped myshoulder and thigh. Then I was lifted off the ground and thrown in.
The left side of my body connected with something. I whimpered. I wasn’t getting away. Sunlight filtered through the small holes in the bag, and a dark figure hovered over me. I attempted to pry off the knapsack as he approached. The car jostled as he climbed in, and the door shut behind him, enclosing me in darkness. I tried not to hyperventilate.
“Who are you?” I rasped. My head snapped back, and I cried out as pain erupted across my cheek.
"Did you just hit me, you dick?" I shrieked.
One half of my face throbbed. A new fear took root as he climbed on top of me and pried my legs apart. I lifted my hands to push him away, but it was useless. My fists bounced off the solid wall of muscle. I punched the air furiously. I’d never fought someone in my life. It was hit or miss, but as I swung, my fists met flesh.
"Get the fuck off of me!" I screamed.
Long, calloused fingers wrapped around my wrists and brought them together to pin them above my head. In a matter of seconds, I was rendered useless, trapped, with no one to help me. Something hard dug against my belly, and heat flooded south.
My fight was turning him on… and me.
“Why are you doing this?” I cried out.
I didn’t expect a response, but I wanted one. He didn’t bother answering, but I had to know.
“Please,” I begged.
His hand dragged down my chest, and the sound of ripping filled the car as he tore through my sweater and bra. I arched my back and bucked my hips in another attempt to get away, but it was futile. A large hand groped my right boob, wrenching a gaspfrom my lips. The pad of his fingers brushed over my nipple. There was no stopping him.
“Fucking answer me! Why me?” I screamed as he caressed the side of my waist, slipping over the dips of my rolls.
My cheeks flushed from embarrassment. No man has ever touched me beneath my clothes or even seen me naked. The path his rough hands took told me exactly what he had in mind. My flabby skin was disgusting and, as his fingers slid over it, I wriggled. I wanted to laugh because even when I was about to get raped, I cared more about what he was seeing. His hand slipped beneath my jeans.
“Please, stop. I’ve never done this before,” I whispered.
I hated how pathetic I sounded as I begged him. He stilled, and I held my breath, hoping that this one truth I had no choice but to share would stop him from what he was about to do. Two seconds later, his grip disappeared.
“Nice try, but I know you’re a fucking whore,” he snarled, shattering any hope I had.
What was he talking about?
I only left the house when I had dogs to walk. My dad was the only man I knew. His belt clinked, followed by the unzipping of pants. Every noise was heightened, every brush of his flesh made my heart pound.
