Page 49 of His Captive

“Ok then, you tell me what you’re afraid of?” I turn his question on him.

“That’s not how the game works Lysetta,” he shakes his head. “I ask the questions, you answer, and then maybe you don’t get punished.”

So we were back to this now.

“Maybe I should take the punishment, who knows, I might enjoy it,” I snap back at him, watching his cocky smirk grow even wider.

“For someone who’s in an impossible position you’ve got a lot of sass,” he tells me, almost respectfully.

“Now, tell me what you’re afraid of. What really scares you? No clown or spider shit.”

“I’m not really afraid of anything,” I tell him, being honest.

“I’ve lost everything that ever mattered to me. So, I guess that makes me fearless.” I hold up my glass in a half toast before I take a sip, trying not to react to the fire it ignites in my throat on the way down.

At first he looks confused, then unconvinced.

“There has to be something, one thing.”

I think about telling him. I have nothing to lose. It’s a stupid thing anyway, but then so is this whole situation I’m in.

“It’s not really something I’m afraid of. It’s silly really.”

Ethan lifts his head, willing me to continue.

“Well, I know my mom and dad loved me, I was their world, and they were mine too. That’s what family are supposed to do, right?

It was their responsibility to love and take care of me. But, since losing them, it's made me wonder how it would feel to be loved by someone who didn't have that obligation, someone who choose me themselves and decided they wanted to give their love to me over anyone else.”

Ethan’s face is blank as he stares back at me.

“See I told you it was stupid,” I giggle awkwardly. Though he doesn’t seem to find it funny, he looks deadly serious, his forehead scrunching together tight.

“Oh, and I always worried that I’d die a virgin, but you crossed that one off the list. So, thanks. I guess.

I kinda imagined that the getting kissed part would come first so I never thought to add it, so maybe I should…” I suddenly stop, realizing that I’m rambling, and that it’s doing nothing to ease the sudden tension in the room, I’ve just ended up making an even bigger fool of myself.

Ethan sits up a little straighter.

“You planning on dying anytime soon?” he asks.

“I don’t know, am I?” I bite back wittily, and Ethan's head tips to the side, his thumb pulling across his bottom lip, tracing his snigger.

“Come here.” He lifts his chin at me.

I place my glass down and stand, maneuvering myself around his desk.

As soon as I’m within his reach, he takes my hips in his hands and slides me into the space in front of him. Touching the fabric of my dress, his pressure is firm but agonizingly slow as he slips beneath it. His fingers reaching higher until they brush against my panties.

I feel his palm sooth over the lace and his fingers hook inside them, peeling them down my thighs, then letting them drop to the floor. His palm then presses into my stomach and forces me to sit on his desk,

Cupping my knees, he spreads them apart, opening me up to him. Then guides my upper body back until it lays flat against his desk. I inhale a sharp breath when I feel his rough jaw touch the insides of my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he tells me his voice husky, and traveling right through me,

He holds the back of my thighs wide and high, exposing my pussy. And then comes his tongue. Wet, warm and gliding smoothly through my lips. He’s gentle, not rough as he licks me over and over. Each stroke sending bullets of pleasure slicing through the same spot.

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