Notes from the author:
Hello all! To those of you who have gone out of your way to show support, I thank you so much! It has been a struggle in my first series, but I am determined to see it through to the end. As usual, this is the non con section, blah blah blah. This chapter contains knife play. If you are looking for a realistic story, read something else. The only realistic thing about my story is that it revolves around two people who are imperfect. This could serve as the final chapter, but I may consider extending it. We'll see what you have to say. ;) xoxo
*****
Chapter 9
The sun was pouring through the windows of the cabin when I awoke. It seemed close to ten. I looked over at the alarm clock, and confirmed. 10:19am. Oh shit! Michael. I had missed our breakfast date, again.
It was then that I realized that Joe was no longer in bed with me. I heard water running, and a soft cheerily whistled tune penetrating the wall. I would never have associated that happy peppy whistle with a sadistic asshole like Joe. He had terrorized me. Raped me. Cum inside me...
I frowned. It was hard to know what to make of Joe. When he was fucking me, he could control my mind and bend me to his dirty perverse whims. He could have anything he wanted from me, it seemed.
Technically, yes, I could run. I could fight him. I could rebel and tell him to fuck himself. But God help me, I just wanted to succumb. My body wanted him.
Joe's dominance and forcefulness was what I had always craved, although the reality was not exactly as I imagined. It was...more intense. One moment he would be degrading me...mocking me. The next he would be praising me and stroking me with the tenderness of a lover. It kept me off balance, and all the more vulnerable. He was an expert manipulator--at least in bed.
Could Joe truly see my desires? Or was he just an asshole who lucked out? He accused me time and again of "wanting it", and he was right. He was so right.
Still, I was not prepared just yet to become a mindless ball of mush. Joe was wearing me down, but sleep, and distance, had a way of restoring my confidence. Maybe I could slip out while he was in the shower. I would need to be quick.
I looked around for my dress, finding it crumpled underneath the bed. Thank goodness I had taken it off last night, before Joe tore it to shreds. Rather, before he cut it to shreds with his knife. Oh. That knife. I recalled the feel of the blade running softly across my skin. It was terrifying and amazingly erotic, just like Joe. Once again, I was trembling, anticipating Joe exiting the shower at the most inopportune moment. I slid my shoes on quickly, and grabbed my purse.
As I hurried to the door, I noticed how much lighter my purse felt. With a feeling of dread deep in the pit of my stomach, I peered into my purse. I found my lipstick, deodorant, toothbrush and travel size toothpaste. No wallet, no phone, no room key. With a frustrated sigh, I plopped myself down on the foot of the bed.
Of course. Of course he would take my stuff. Make it as difficult as possible for me to leave him, short of tying me to the bed. He wasn't an idiot. A sadistic bastard, yes, but an idiot, no. I was pissed. And suddenly, I heard the shower turn off.
A chill ran through me. Part of me wanted to strip and pretend to be asleep. He would be none the wiser. But the stubborn mule in me was royally pissed, and wanted to make sure Joe knew it. Fuck him. I wanted to leave. So what? I was completely within my rights. Not that rights meant anything to Joe.
Light flooded the hallway as the bathroom door opened, and I steeled myself for what was to come.
---
It's strange. Opening my eyes this morning to see her darling face, so pure in sleep, had me filled with this...warm sensation. It was a mixture of affection, possessiveness, pride, and a hint of fear. I had felt the occasional post-coital tenderness in the past, but never fear. What did I have to fear? She was mine.
Could it be that despite all my efforts to claim her, I was terrified that she would still get away? That she wanted to get away? I had forced her to be mine...forced her to say things. The way she had screamed out my name had been immensely satisfying, even if she had been trying to slow me down.
My eyes closed again as I recalled her crying out, "Joe, please! It's too deep!" I could feel her struggling form against me still, her cunt clenching over my shaft as I pummeled her harder, stabbing at her cervix, intent on taking what was mine.
I knew that deep down she shared my desires. Or, did I desperately need to believe that?
Frowning at her, deep in her angelic slumber, I could think of only two things to do. I could fuck her again, wake her, only to pound her into oblivion. Or I could make preparations. There was much to do if I intended to keep her here.
Shifting very carefully from the bed, I heard her start to snore. It was a cute, dainty, girly type snore, and it made me laugh. Then the warmth. That damn warmth again in my gut. She turned to her back, exposing a plump soft breast to my appreciative gaze.
God how I wanted to climb back on the bed and suckle at that gorgeous tit. Some day soon, I would suck milk from her swollen breasts. Visions of her hands tangling in my hair as I feasted on her generous tits, hearing her cries and pleas as she squirmed beneath me... it had me salivating. My cock now painfully hard for her, I stalked away and grabbed my robe.
In the living area of my suite I found the phone, directory, and room service menu. Skimming through the menu, I realized that I had no idea what she would prefer. I decided to order everything, and let her choose when she awoke. I called and put in the order, requesting that everything be delivered in an hour. I then called the concierge and requested two extra sets of towels, and an afternoon room cleaning.
Shortly after phoning, there was a light knock at the door.
I answered the door, greeted by a young Latina who was delivering our towels.
"Buenos dias senorita," I greeted softly, offering her my most charming smile. She blushed, rather like Kate, which made me grin.
She seemed taken aback by my fluent Spanish. In my work, I found bilingual skills to be immensely helpful, not so much for speaking as for listening.
I took the towels, and asked if she would be so kind as to pick up a few things and bring them to the room. I handed her a list, and a stack of bills. She said not a word, but nodded.
With a seductive smile, I dismissed her. "Gracias mamas. Una hora, si?"
"Si senor," she whispered.
I shut the door, and went to check on Kate. She had kicked away some of the sheets. Seeing more of her creamy soft skin exposed, I knew I needed to turn around or I would surely pounce, putting a crimp in my plans. Hearing her light snore, I was convinced she was asleep, and headed to the shower.
I was sorely tempted to bring myself off. It was becoming a ritual. The warmth of the water massaging my skin had thoughts of Kate swarming through my mind. Thoughts of being immersed in her, making love to her. I had to fight the temptation, and save myself for Kate. Not a drop could be wasted outside of her. Finishing quickly, I dried off and wrapped a towel round my waist before emerging from the bath.
When I returned to the bedroom, I was surprised to find Kate sitting at the edge of the bed, clad in her red velvet dress from last night. She did not look happy. Rather, like she wanted to kill me.
God, I loved that look. That look of utter sass. The look that begged me to redden her ass until it matched her juicy cunt. By God, I would. I grinned smugly at the thought, taunting her with words unspoken. But she was not amused.
Suddenly it dawned on me that she was dressed to leave. She must have discovered that I'd taken her wallet, phone, and room key, or I doubted she would still be here. This was not totally surprising, but irritating nonetheless. I had hoped we were past this.
"So cunt," I drawled, my tone bordering on anger. "You were going somewhere?"
