Page 8 of Burn

Well, frizz was still soft. The minutes of freedom between stepping into the shower and finishing blow drying my hair passed too quickly. Once I was finished, I took a deep breath and returned to the room.

The man still sat in his chair, his head tilted back and his left eye open. The scar seemed to glow despite the shadow cast by the chair’s winged back.

“Where do you want me?” I was proud of how steady the words came out.

“Is your cunt as smooth as it looks?” The question had me glancing down.

“Probably,” I said. “I get lasered regularly.”

It slowed the growth to almost nil. It didn’t get rid of it entirely. He curled his fingers, a single beckoning gesture and when I reached him, he traced his fingers down my abdomen toward my pussy. He paused to trace his fingers over the bare mound, then deeper along the seam of the lips.

“Foot here,” he commanded, patting the edge of the chair next to him. I raised my leg, baring myself to his inspection. The way his lips parted and the swift breaths he took said he very much liked what he saw.

The gentle probing of his fingers as he stroked from my clit to my entrance seemed utterly at odds with the situation. At least until he thrust a finger into me. I wasn’t quite wet enough for that and there was some pain associated with the resistance.

“Don’t worry, pet,” he said in a low croon. “We have all night.” He stroked his thumb against my clit. The dryness made the friction uncomfortable. Course, when he pulled his hand out and spit on his fingers, I tilted my head back.

I needed to think of something I enjoyed or this was going to be even more uncomfortable.

“Would you like me to touch you or do I have to wait?”

He rubbed his spit against me and I tried to ignore where the moisture came from. “You will be touching me soon enough, pet. But I have plans and we’re going to do this my way, since you are being so sweet and cooperative.”

Eventually, my body softened. It knew what to do and the more he circled my clit, the more moisture gathered between my legs.

“Play with your breasts,” he told me and I raised my hands to cup them.

Pinching and rolling the nipples until the tautness stretched to my belly. He had two fingers inside of me thrusting as he worked my clit.

I might just come like this and, right now, I was fine with it. One step at a time. As a shiver went through me, he pulled his hand away abruptly and a sound escaped me that could definitely be a complaint.

His low chuckle wrenched me to earth and I looked down at him.

“You are a good pet, and I am going to enjoy the next few hours.” After he licked his fingers, he unzipped his pants and opened them to free his large, bulbous cock. “Now ride me, pet.”

Survival, I reminded myself. He was hardly the first dick I mounted to get what I wanted or needed. I slid a knee on either side of his thighs and reached between us to fist him. His swift indrawn breath had me stroke him once or twice.

He was rock hard and not small. Probably why he’d worked so much spit into me. If he went in dry that would definitely hurt.

Still, I didn’t give myself time to think. I lined him up and plunged downward. He gripped the arms of the chair and not me as he blew out a breath.

Right.

He wanted me to ride him.

I slid a hand into his hair and began to roll my hips. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions or even giving me a lot of pleasure but I could get him off.

That was what mattered right now.

Chapter

Four

GRACE

There was no rest. There was barely any water. My captor seemed to enjoy ordering me around even more than just using my body. As grim tasks went, it could be worse. The first time he came, he wanted to comeonme.

Fine.

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