Notes from the author:
Hello all. Short but sweet this chapter. I'm not apologizing for the duration this time, and you'll see why. Remember, this is fiction. It is not realistic, not politically correct, and definitely not for the faint-hearted. For many, this will be weird. For a certain division of the "kink" community, it will blow your mind. Enjoy! ;)
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Chapter 8
A feeling of triumph overcame me as she uttered the words I had so longed to hear since our eyes first met. It was perfect, and yet ludicrous. I had known her all of twenty-four hours, almost exclusively in the sexual sense. And here I was, taking measures to ensure she would carry my child. What was wrong with this picture?
The most sense I could make of it was that she had me enraptured. I had to have all of her, bind her to me in a way that could never be erased.
Were it not for my lust-fogged brain, I might have had reservations. But even now, as the sexual high began to fade, I could not regret my decision. She was so delicate, so innocent and pure. And no other man would have her but me.
Tonight, I had fought past her barriers and forced her to admit her wanton desires, but in truth, I knew she was not a whore or a slut. She just loved it when I called her one. She loved the degradation whether she knew it or not. Her cunt climaxing repeatedly over my cock had told me as much.
I had a sixth sense about Kate's particular blend of kink. It was written all over her gorgeous face. She needed to be owned. And for some reason, I could not stomach the idea of anyone else having that chance. Some young fumbling idiot who could not possibly appreciate the significance of her submissive qualities.
Just seeing her on those few occasions with Scott had me incensed. He didn't deserve her. Hell, I didn't deserve her. I knew that. But I didn't care. I wanted her that much.
Perhaps I was selfish, claiming her for my own, when I had no idea who she was, where she was from, or what her long-range plans were. I knew nothing of Kate, excepting one thing that could easily override all rationality. We were sexually compatible...kink compatible. Then again, could it be that my mind had simply been clouded by the fact that I wanted her desperately?
All things considered, I knew that I needed to talk with her, calmly, in a non-sexual connotation...if that was possible. Did I plan to let her go? No. Did I plan to stop fucking her? No. I may have owed her an apology for my severe behavior, but I still was not going to release her. My connection to her was much more powerful than that. Unlike any of my previous sexual conquests, I wanted her to bear my child.
I knew it was fucked up, but I couldn't explain it. I had never had a desire for children, but everything was different now. She had made things different. I needed to conquer her. I needed to own her. I needed to breed her.
"Sleep now, darling," I said tenderly. "Rest, and as soon as you are up to it, we will get you washed up. And then we will talk."
As if on cue, Kate fell asleep, all signs of distress gone from her features. She was so beautiful when she slept. She looked all the more innocent and vulnerable, and it made me hard. Would I ever not be around this woman?
Shaking my head, I gathered the toys and took them to the bathroom to wash. After laying them to dry, I showered quickly, and returned to look in on Kate. She was still fast asleep, and I carefully eased the pillows out from under her hips, and tucked her into bed.
I, however, was wide awake and wondering what the hell was to come of my obsession with Kate. Because that's what it was. An obsession. An obsession I did not want to fight.
I would need to fight to keep her. That much was certain. Despite her submission to me only an hour ago, I knew that she might still attempt to flee. She had surrendered to me under significant duress, and once she woke up, she might very well go back on her confessions. I needed to take extra measures to ensure she could not slip free of my grasp as easily as she had last night.
Looking around, I found her purse on the floor by the dresser. I rummaged through it, finding the condoms she had begged me to use, along with an extra set of panties, and various female necessities. It infuriated me that she had apparently been completely prepared to spend the night with Scott. I tossed the condoms in the wastebasket, and dug through her things until I found her wallet and room key. Setting aside her room key, I opened up her wallet to find an ID. Her name was Katharine Anne Miller, age twenty-eight. Hmm, she didn't look more than twenty-one. And I was thrilled to discover that she resided in Chicago, only a few miles from my apartment. What were the odds? This was very fortunate for her, because I was taking her home with me regardless of where she lived.
I was definitely not prone to flights of romantic fancy, if you could call this romance. But now that I had tasted it with Kate, I wanted it desperately. I wanted her desperately. Just as I had last night with Scott, I needed to be prepared to play hardball in the days ahead. There was too much at stake.
Looking over my shoulder at the bed, seeing Kate so soft and vulnerable in her deep slumber, I wanted to make her happy. But not at the expense of losing her. What could I do?
With a frustrated sigh, I collected Kate's wallet and room key, and stuffed them in the bottom of my suitcase. I would take control of her in the one way I knew how. Domination. The heavier stuff could be sorted out later.
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I had barely a chance to absorb the absurdity of his proposal to "talk" before I fell into a dead sleep. When I awoke, and realized I was still in Joe's bed, I went to rise, but found myself tangled in the sheets and bedspread. Struggling slightly, trying to avoid waking him, it became apparent that he had wrapped me up in such a way as to prevent my escape. If I were to wiggle free of the wrapping he had fashioned, it would most certainly wake him before I could make it out of the bed. Clever bastard. Clever, devious, insane asshole bastard.
His arm was wrapped around me within the sheets, his leg draped over mine "implying" that I was not to leave. Once again, I could feel his fur against me, warm, soft and maddeningly comfortable.
Joe was so rugged, so harsh, so dominant, so sadistic. And yet, in the final moments of last night's...activities...he had acted so tender and loving. He had to be insane.
So why had I opened my legs to him? Why had I begged him to fuck me, to shoot his load deep inside of me? Why had I been hurled into orgasm at the thought of him...impregnating me? I knew nothing about Joe, aside from his rather schizophrenic brand of dominance.
The clamps and anal penetration had been difficult to bear, and the forced orgasms into my rapist's mouth had worn me down not only physically, but emotionally.
When Joe had started to remove his clothes, and looked at me with such fierce determination in his eyes, I knew I was in trouble. It occurred to me that he was going to fuck me, and would likely not care whether I was on birth control or not. And as much as I had fantasized about being taken against my will, I was not ready for a baby. I loved children and had always dreamt of being a mother, but how on earth would I care for it? Would I bring my baby with me to the office? Breastfeed it on my lunch break in the bathroom? Not to mention that I would be forfeiting all hope of a social life. And marriage. Would any man ever want me if I had a child that was not his? It would ruin me.
Joe had taken me with such dominance and ferocity that I was helpless to deny anything he would ask of me. Even if I had been capable of fighting him off physically, my heart would not have been in it. Joe knew this. Somehow, he knew.
