Thic as Thieves

WARNING: The last two chapters (this chapter and the next) get pretty dark, and there will be a non-con part in this chapter. If it upsets you, please don't read. All characters are 18+, another thanks to RP for editing.

*****

Margret

I felt the rope biting into my wrists as my eyes opened.

"Marge!" I heard Wayne trying to get my attention. After trying to look around through the pitch black darkness, I noticed some smells; it reeked of dried blood, and something rotten that I couldn't identify.

"W-what happened? Where are we?" I asked. Wayne was directly behind me. It was when I answered that I felt his arms move a little through his own restraints.

"I don't know," Wayne replied. "You were right - something is definitely wrong. Are you alright?" he asked.

"I think so. But we need to get out of here. We need to find Nate and..." A beep sounded somewhere in the distance.

"They're awake, sir," someone said into a two way transceiver.

This isn't good, I thought. My stomach churned at the thought of what could happen.

Footsteps were coming toward us. In a few short moments lights flared and, after squinting to adjust to the light, I saw that we were in some sort of storage room. The rotten smell was coming from a body in a bag close to us. My mind went into overdrive thinking that it was Nate or Anya. I was shaking, trembling both in fear and worry. Through the tensing in Wayne's arms, I knew he was thinking the same thing.

"Don't worry," came a voice from in front of me. "That's just some annoying waitress I fucked. But she did briefly see your son...and Anya, as you call her." I looked to see a man with dirty blond hair, and blue eyes. His features were similar to Anya's.

"Well, now, I'm being a poor host," he continued. "I haven't even introduced myself." He walked over and suddenly grabbed a baseball bat. He twirled it around his arm while walking over to us, a sick grin on his face.

"I'm Max Kentwood. You...," he pushed the bat against my throat. My heart pounded. "...are Margret. And that's Wayne. Am I wrong? I would hate to be torturing the wrong people." He sounded so casual and soft spoken about everything.

"Where are my kids?" I asked trying to lose my fear for a moment.

"You mean your kid and his girlfriend?" Max Kentwood asked. "Oh, I'd imagine they're at hotel number 2 with a ticket to pound town. Although I don't know why they didn't just drive faster and stay one night in one hotel. I think they needed a break from you two." He took the bat away, twirling it around his arm again. "I mean, it's about a fourteen hour drive. It only took me a few hours with the helicopter from where they were last..."

"What the hell do you want?!" I interrupted him. He stopped twirling the bat, and with a swift motion took it in his hands and whipped it into action, hitting me in the ribs.

The first thing I felt was any oxygen I had in my lungs leave me in an instant. Then I heard a popping noise; like a piece of wood being broken underwater. Then I felt the ache turn into a burn.

"Margret!" Wayne shouted. "Baby, talk to me!" I tried not to yell out while sitting up again, but it hurt like hell.

"I don't like it when you yell, Marge," Kentwood said. " It doesn't seem like it's something you'd regularly do. Now, do you have a nicer way of asking me a question?" Max asked me. I couldn't speak from the pain and the wind being knocked out of me.

"Sick bastard!" Wayne shouted.

"Now, now. Do you want the same treatment, big guy?" Max asked, still calm and collected. I watched him kneel down to me, poking my ribs where he had hit me. I couldn't help but yelp from the sharp stinging burn that washed through the area when he did it.

"Hmm...that hurts, doesn't it?" Max said without the least bit of compassion in his voice. "What If I just..." He pushed harder on the area. I screamed as the pain worsened.

"Stop! Please!" I begged with tears coming from my eyes. He smiled, eventually backing off.

"Baby? Honey, are you ok?" Wayne asked. "Please talk to me!"

"Don't...talk," I managed to get out. "Don't...give him the...satisfaction..., Wayne."

"Oh, you think that gives me satisfaction?" Max said. "Talking? Oh, no, no, no. Seeing that desperate look to get away; the way a person can writhe in pain; that's what turns me on, Marge." He smiled. I was frozen in place. He's sick; mentally disturbed; a total psycho.

"Now, I would tell you what I plan to do with my sister and your son," he continued. "But that would just ruin the fun, now wouldn't it? No, I can't spoil everything. I'll send Nate back in a few days." He smiled, a hideous and leering expression on his face.

"I won't let you touch my daughter!" Wayne said flatly.

"She's not your daughter, Mr. Blake!" Max spat. "And she belongs back at home. She's mine, not yours." Max taunted. Tears fell from my eyes as I tried my best to start slowly untying the ropes that bound my hands. But only mine at first. Wayne was too angry. If I were to set him free now...well, right now we just needed a way of getting away. Even if it meant I had to compromise with Max. If we were to get out of here, we needed to be smart about it. If we weren't...I didn't want to think of the consequences.

"We'll do whatever you want, boy. But please give us back Anya and Nate!" I begged breathlessly. He looked at me.

"You're never getting Jessica back," he hissed. Hearing her birth name made me flinch.

"Oh, don't like that? Get used to it!" He leaned over me, making me look into his eyes. "Her name is Jessica. You can try to take away who she really is, but you can't." He pulled a knife from his back pocket, putting it to my ear. "She has the same blood as me...same last name as me..." He made a small cut, and I felt the warm sticky blood running down from my ear. "...and she has a darkness inside her that you can't stop. Just like me; just like our dad. She's not your Anya. Or at least she won't be when I'm done with her." He smiled before cutting my ear even deeper.

I couldn't figure him out. He didn't seem to have any weak points. If he had rage, I didn't know how to trigger it. And as far as I could see, he had no empathy. The more I looked into those lifeless eyes of his the more horrified I became.

"What do you want?" I tried asking one more time, wincing from the pain in my ribs. He smiled, getting up and walking towards the door.

"What do you want?!" I asked again, no longer angry but terrified. He stopped before reaching the door. But he didn't turn to face me.

"I want her," he said to the emptiness ahead of him "I want her to bleed; to scream; to beg for mercy. And then I want to turn her into the person she's meant to be. When I've done that, I want her to trust me like she trusts your son. And when she feels safe - when she's truly my sister, and more - I want to send you her pretty little head and watch you burn."

He's a full blown psychopath!

Anya

We sat in the hot tub, kissing and waiting for the lights to go out and then back on. We managed to sneak into the pool after hours so we could have a little fun. The hotel staff had already checked to be sure no one was there. The only thing we'd have to eventually worry about was getting back to our room...but that didn't concern us at the moment. I was still worried about so much more than that...

Nate was still kissing my shoulder, not yet aware of my concern. I didn't want him to be. Not yet. I just wanted him to fuck it all away.

When the lights finally flickered then went onto a lower setting, he guided me up onto the edge of the hot tub. Before he could start going down on me, I reached into his swim shorts, pulling out his hard cock, not wanting him to suspect I had any worries.

He chuckled, holding the hair away from my face while I started to suck him into my mouth. He moaned and rested on his hands while I avoided eye contact. From the angle I was at, he would forgive me for it.

Seeing him relaxed and hearing his moans made me start to loosen up a little. And the back rub he was giving me also made me melt a little. I kept sucking and stroking him, taking him into my throat for a while when he seemed to be relaxed enough to be taken a little off guard by it. When he began to wrap my hair around his hand I relaxed more, thinking he wouldn't ask me how I was feeling.

Suddenly he pulled me onto the floor and held my arms above my head. I knew my thoughts had been wrong when I saw him calmly staring at me - not disappointed - but he could tell that I was scared.

"Still nervous?" he asked gently. I nodded.

"I don't know what I'm going to say. What if she doesn't like me?" I asked. He smiled then kissed my breast right on the nipple, through my bikini top, shooting a wave of excitement directly to my clit. He shrugged.

"Then she doesn't deserve you," he said. "We'll drive straight back home, no stops and no looking back," he promised. Talking about it somehow made my anxiety worse.

"I don't have to worry about it." I tried to lean up for a kiss. He chuckled, gently pushing me back down, being careful not to smash my head on the ground.

"I'm not going to fuck you until you tell me more of why you're scared," he insisted. I groaned, wanting to use an orgasm to forget about it.

"I can wait here forever," he taunted. Rolling my eyes I finally decided to try and put it into words.

"I feel...bad for thinking it, But from the research I've done she was married to Mark Kentwood for at least seven or eight years before I was born. She had a son before me. She let Mark take him when they separated. Maybe she put up a fight initially, but she didn't file anything in court. She never looked for them. She ran away from them if anything. What kind of a mother doesn't even fight for her kid?" I asked. He looked at me thinking it through in his own way.

"On the other hand, did Mark cover it up if she tried to get him back?" I continued. "Maybe she did fight for him and couldn't win. What if I'm just a reminder of what she went through? What if she doesn't want to really see me? I'm not just worried about her not liking me. She's my mother...and I'm worried about her hating me," I explained. He stroked my hair while I tried to think about what else was worrying me.

"What if she tries to go after Mom and Dad for taking me?" I asked after a pause. "What if she wants me to stay with her? What if she doesn't feel anything at all and doesn't even care?" I felt my voice getting quieter. "I just...I didn't start really thinking about it until now. And it just feels like something's gonna go wrong. I want to meet her, and I still want to do this. But something just feels...off now," I explained. He stroked my hair a little longer and kissed my forehead.

"There's nothing wrong with turning back if you want to, An," he offered. I shook my head.

"I-I want to...I...just don't know what to expect," I explained. He kissed my cheek.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked. I thought for a moment.

"No...this is something I need to do on my own," I replied. Somehow, just letting him know what I was thinking calmed me down quite a bit.

"What can I do?" he asked. I shrugged. He sighed, looking me over.

"She's your mother, but she's not your mom. You're simply wanting to see if this woman who happened to give birth to you is worth your time. Think of it that way. This isn't about you telling her what you know, or her impression of you, or what she thinks of you." He released my hands, but I only took them down to untie my top and let my breasts loose before putting my arms back up and keeping them there, knowing he likes looking at them when they're on display with my arms up.

"This..." he smiled at the sight before tracing patterns around my nipples. "is simply about what you think of her. If you don't like her, you don't have to tell her who you are. You came here to meet her. Right? So meet her; get your impression of her figured out before you decide whether or not you'll tell her who you are," he finished. His words did help me relax more. I let them sink in , thanking whatever gods may be that he had a way with relaxing and helping me.

"And if I may add," he said after a moment. "you're not your father. You don't want to hurt her...or anyone. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for." I looked at him, really taking him in. Since we've been together, I've looked at him differently all the time. But this wasn't me just looking or observing. This was me fully seeing him as my lover.

His green eyes; his dark hair; his skin and muscles; the way he can stare into me and know what to say; the way his lips curl up in a small smile when he plays with my hair, or touches me; his sweet breath; his moans and other sounds...

"I love you," was all I could say at that moment, looking at him.

His fingers stopped tracing the patterns and he looked down at me. I don't think I ever really said it enough. But it's true. Nothing could be truer. His eyes were lit up, and if there was such a thing as an eye actually twinkling, his were. As the smile spread across his face his mouth opened up.

"I love you too," he breathed before putting his lips on mine. We leaned into the kiss, opening our mouths and tasting each other like we always did. But something about this time seemed so heated, more passion filled.

When we sat back up holding each other, I eventually let go of him to stand up and take off my bikini bottom. He watched with a gleam still in his eyes, waiting for me to be completely naked.

"I'm gonna go for a swim," I smiled before heading into the pool. He followed slowly behind me, taking his shorts off while watching me swim around in the pool. When he descended the stairs I floated on my back, waiting to see what he was going to do.

I felt his hands brush over my chest before he turned me in the water so that his pelvis was against mine. But he didn't enter me yet. He just held me there, looking at my body in front of his. Strangely I didn't feel impatient. When he started to rub my thighs, just tenderly brushing them with his hands, I found myself enjoying it.

When he had his fill he held my legs at his sides before I sat up. With most of my weight supported in the water it was easy for him to hold me. With the same urge to feel him as he felt me I touched his neck, feeling his warm skin, and caressing his chest. He seemed to be taking his time to admire me while I touched him, innocently just exploring him.

When I looked into his eyes I also saw my own reflection. We both seemed to be at peace, content with the simple yet intimate and complex touches.

"You're beautiful too you know," I commented before kissing his neck. He chuckled while cradling me.

"Thank you," he breathed into my ear.

I don't know how long we stayed there before he slowly guided me to some towels, then to an empty elevator. Everything seemed perfect. Even as we were simply walking hand in hand to our room, everything felt like we were exactly in the right place.

He was kissing me as soon as we got to our room, grabbing my ass while I got my fingers lost in his hair. He eventually turned me around and got me on all fours. Then I heard him take something from his bag.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"More than anyone," I replied. He slowly rubbed my ass, not doing anything else.

"I've always wanted to do this. If I hurt you, tell me," he instructed. I suppressed a giddy chuckle.

"Of course," I promised. I heard him take a few steps back, and then I yelped as I felt a snap. It didn't really hurt; it stung. But it sent pleasure to all the right places, making me wet.

"That okay?" he asked. I nodded, moaning.

"Fuck, yes! It feels good!!" I encouraged. Snap! I whimpered, wanting to play with myself while he belted me.

"Do what you want to do, baby," he offered, seeming to know just what I wanted. With his permission, I bent down more and reached for my clit, slowly rubbing it, not wanting to get too excited. He kept spanking me with the belt and I moaned, whimpered and yelped into the air, loving every second of it.

When I heard him growl, I knew he couldn't hold back anymore. I took my hand away, knowing he was ready to fuck me.

As soon as I felt him inside me, I couldn't help but whimper into the pillows from pleasure. The belt made everything more sensitive and exciting. Knowing that he was, in a way, very caring about what he did also drove me over the edge while his cock began slamming into me. He grabbed my hands like he did when we were drunk, being careful not to be too rough with grabbing my ass. I held on tightly trying to fuck him back while he pounded me.

With our moans and other sounds, I would have usually wondered if anyone in the other rooms could hear us. But at the moment he was the only thing in my head; he was the only one I wanted there.

For some reason I felt everything more intensely; his rock hard cock not only thrusting in and out of me, but pulsating too. His hands were holding on just as tightly as I was holding on to him, and my hands went tingly instead of numb.

"I want to come at the same time!" I moaned.

"I'm getting close!" he moaned, as if in agreement. He went faster, trying to push me closer with him. And it was working. I could feel my body readying itself for an orgasm, and we both got louder.

"N-Nate!" I cried out. He clenched his hands tighter around mine, telling me he was there too. He began growling as I cried into the pillows, both of our bodies shaking against each other and I could feel both of our heart beats through our sex. It may not have been our most intense orgasm yet, but this was definitely the most passionate one.

While we tried to catch our breaths he lay in front of me, pulling me too him so that I was right against his chest. My lips were red and swollen from the orgasm. His seemed a little softer too as they touched mine. We didn't talk. We just held each other there, with no need for words. All we needed was each other. Everything that needed to be said had been said. And with the comfort of knowing that, I slowly began to drift off to sleep.

****

I didn't open my eyes when I awoke. Part of me didn't want to as I felt Nate's arms around me, holding me tightly, especially for someone who was asleep. I wanted to stay there just a little longer before getting up and ready to go.

The sun was shining brightly, even through the curtains. The blankets weren't too light or too warm. I felt refreshed from a good night's sleep. And with Nate wrapped around me I felt good. Really good. For some reason I was reluctant to get up and go.

Nevertheless, I eventually worked up enough courage to carefully get out of bed, not wanting to wake him. He'd want to say goodbye before I left, but I decided to let him rest for a while longer until it was time for me to go.

The anxiety wasn't as strong as it had been before. I was strangely calm, but still took my time getting ready. I took a long hot shower, dried my hair, and put it up in a messy bun. I took longer than I usually would have. I wasn't sure whether it was because I was calm or if it was because I was shutting down on the inside.

I took some time to sit down with a cup of instant coffee that had been laid out on one of the counters of the room. It wasn't the best since I was more of a tea drinker, and the lukewarm tap water must have had some calcium build up in it. Next time I'd pay attention while making it instead of just throwing some water and the powder in a cup.

"Hey," Nate finally called out. He slowly sat up, watching me take a sip of my drink at the table. "They didn't have tea here?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Just this and hot chocolate," I answered with a bit of a smile. He got up and sat across from me.