Page 66 of His Captive

Her words hum all the way to my dick, and I tug at my belt and tear open the buttons on my jeans. My cock needs no assistance releasing itself, and lands heavy against her stomach. Reaching over my shoulder, I drag my t-shirt over my head and drop it on the floor with a wet slosh.

Her ass feels so tiny in my hands, and I crush her cheeks inside them as I lift her off her feet. Pressing her hard into the wall, while her legs wrap around my waist. I let my cock rest against her entrance, hissing, when she drips all over my tip.

Taking both her hands, I raise them over her head, and push myself inside her. She moans, maybe from relief, maybe from pain. I don't care as long as she fucking feels me. I want to possess her, to scratch beneath her skin and pulse through her blood.

“You’re mine,” my mouth moves against her cheek. When I pull out of her, she starts to slip down the wall, so I slam back into her, with enough force to make her scream. She’s so fucking tight that I feel every spasm her receptive little pussy makes for me. Blonde wispy strands of hair stick to her face and I use my filthy palm to swipe them away, leaving dirty streaks across her cheek before I help myself to a fist of her hair. Then forcing her head back I fuck myself into her harder.

Her throat is exposed, begging to be marked. Lysetta asked to be shown who owned her.

I’ll show her, I’ll mark her skin so each time she looks in the mirror, she’ll have a reminder of who she belongs too.

My mouth rests over her taut flesh, tasting it, earthy, sweaty, and fucking addictive. I suck her between my teeth, her blood heating as I entice it to the surface. I don’t stop bruising her collared throat until I’m satisfied that the purple marks will linger for days. And when they fade I’ll mark her with brand new ones.

She meets each of my thrusts with her hips, sucking me so deep inside her that I loose where I end, and she begins. The sound of my name wailing from her lips as she comes sending me fucking dizzy.

“Cry for me.” It sounds like I’m begging her rather than commanding. Sweat pouring from my body onto hers as I continue to tirelessly fuck her despite her body being shattered.

She looks as if she doesn’t understand, her body breathless from the orgasm I’ve just torn out of her.

“Cry for me,” I repeat.

“I can’t… I can’t cry for you. I don’t cry. Ever.” Her words confuse me. This girl has known loss, she’s felt fear and yet she’s trying to tell me she’s never let tears shed her pretty little eyes.

My cock begins pulsing, and I shift my hand up to her throat and squeeze. Hard.

“Never fucking try that again, Lysetta. You don’t leave,” I threaten, and her head bobs erratically in agreement.

“Say it.” I squeeze even tighter, hearing her gulp for breath.

“SAY IT,” I warn again.

“I. Will. Never. Leave,” she manages between her body’s fight for air. I slam one last hard thrust into her. Digging my hand hard into her hip and holding her throbbing little cunt tight against my cock as I fill it.

Her body sags. Her weight falling against me.

The urge to kiss her is overwhelming. I need to claim her lips and tell her without words the pain I feel at the thought of losing her. But, I don’t.

Instead, I focus on her chest and how it flutters like butterfly wings against glass. When I close my eyes I see them, the butterfly, its fragile blue wings limp in my palm. Millie, her ice-cold eyes, wide and blank. Then I force myself to open mine and look at her. Lysetta, stares back at me. Clear blue crystals shining. I’d been too late to save them, but not her, and breaking her suddenly doesn’t seem like the challenge anymore. I want to fix her.

I place her on her feet, and reach down to the floor, grabbing the keys from the back pocket of my jeans. Releasing her from the collar, I scoop her up, and carry her out of the basement.

Her head snuggles against my chest as I carry her up the stairs and across the landing.

We’re both bare ass naked, and completely covered in mud. But that doesn’t matter as I pass the door to her room and move us toward my own.

Opening the covers on my bed, I lay her down, and cover her over. She’s fallen asleep somewhere on the journey up here.

Backing away, I take a seat in the chair beside the window. Watch rain pelt against the glass. The droplets blurring the distant lights of the town below.

My empire.

The town I’ve worked so hard to gain, the town I control, and that now seems so irrelevant. My worries span further than this little town now.

The world outside has become my enemy, the place I need to protect her from.

She may not know it yet, but what I’m doing is all for her own good. The world outside is merciless.

I’ll keep her safe from it.

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