Take Me With You(13)

“You have such a beautiful body.” He pulls up my nightgown. I am exposed, powerless, entirely submitted. “I've wanted to taste your cunt since the day I first saw you.”

That word, it shocks me like a live wire. I've maybe heard it used once before.

Wet softness grips one of my nipples. His mouth. I sob, eyes and lips clenched, trying not to let cries escape. Johnny has slept through all of this so far by some miracle, and this can't have been for nothing.

“You're so fucking soft,” he gristles, his mouth still sucking on my breast, confusing my body. I can feel the blood rushing between my legs. I want to tell it to stop, but I can't. I am just as much a prisoner to my body as I am to him. His fingers make their way between my legs. He gently slips them between my lips. Fondling me. Like my body is a toy for his pleasure. “You're fucking soaked.”

I shake my head, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I'm gonna watch my come drip out of those lips when I'm done with you, Vesp.” He says Vesp, almost mockingly. Like he knows those dearest to me call me that. Like he and I are familiar. “I was going to make you suck me off first, but your pussy is so ready. Do you feel how hard I am?”

I don't answer.

“I asked a question.” The blade of the knife makes a surprise appearance against my neck. Fear slices through me like a lightning bolt.

“Y--yes.”

“You made the choice, Vesper. You didn't have to do this. You wanted me to. You walk around in those little shorts. Hanging out in front of your house with that bikini top, teasing with your hard nipples. You wanted me to come here.”

I have a moment of clarity. The man, the one driving by. It's the only time I wore a bikini top in as long as I can remember.

“You were here,” I whisper.

“Many times,” he taunts.

Before I can engage any further, he takes my breath away as he slides his fingers into me. It's stunning. He had violated me already, yes, but this—he's inside of me now. Even if it's just his fingers. He's penetrating me.

“Please,” I beg.

“Tell me you love it.”

I shake my head.

He keeps rubbing, his palm pressing against my clit. I feel that build up I felt earlier today. I try to take my mind elsewhere, to stop it. The reverse of what I had to do with Carter.

“Don't upset me,” he grunts. The knife cuts into my skin. “Tell me.”

“I love it,” I answer through tears. I can't tell if his rhythm is making my hips slowly rock or if it's my body involuntarily conceding. But before I can humiliate myself, he stops, giving me time to catch my breath.

His fingers meet my lips again. I can smell the faint aroma of sex on his fingertips. “Lick it with the tip of your tongue.”

I sheepishly dart out my tongue to taste a hint of the saltiness.

“I want you to see this,” he says, whipping off my blindfold. Our eyes lock. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I gasp when I see his. They glow. They are the eyes I saw at the library with the signature golden fleck. A turquoise so pristine it picks up the low levels of light in the room and reflects it like two small moons. I wasn't imagining him these past few weeks. He's real. He's terrifyingly real.

He still has the mask on, but I watch as he licks my cream off of his fingers. “It tastes better than I have ever imagined. We're going to do a lot tonight. I'm gonna eat that pussy over and over. But first, I'm shoving my cock inside of you.”

“Please, I'll give you everything I have.” I bargain as a last ditch effort.

“That's what I'm taking,” he remarks in a sinister tone, reaching down to pull himself out.

I look down against my better judgment to see a swollen head. He's pent up and massively aroused. It's thick, thicker than Carter who is not lacking in that department.

“You're mine, Vesper. I'm going to mark you like a fucking animal.”

It's inevitable. I made my choice. To take this sacrifice for Carter and Johnny. I take care of people. It's what I do. I can live with this, but I can't live with them being hurt.

He presses the head up against my slick lips. I gasp as he slides it up and down, lubricating himself with my wetness. And then he's done being gentle, pushing against my tight, nervous muscles to penetrate me.

I suck in a sharp breath. My mind races with thoughts in that brief moment. Earlier today, I was agreeing to spend my life with the sweetest man I know. Now I'm bound in a room with someone who has been watching me. A man I naively fantasized about. But now he's real. He's here like somehow I subconsciously beckoned him. He's inside of me. Nothing will be the same.

He pulls in and out, in and out. Fucking me. Stretching me. I moan through tears as his free hand roves along my body, squeezing, rubbing. His teeth tug on my nipples. The other hand still holds the knife. His hand clenches it firmly like he's stopping himself from using it against me.

The intruder presses his lips against mine. The itchy wool of the mask scratches against my cheek as I open my lips, letting him conquer another hole. He's kissing me, and I find myself so utterly dominated that I let him do so without a fight. What's a kiss when he's already pulsing his dick inside of me?

He wraps his arm around me and pulls me up, so that he's kneeling on the bed and I am sitting on him. He rocks me up and down. I am his toy, helpless, my arms still tied behind me.