Chapter Ten
My eyesslowly start to crack open as the light from the window filters in. It takes me a split second to regain my memory as to where I am. When I do, the night comes rushing back to me at full force. Then I notice the heat radiating from something pressed against my body. Shifting slowly as to not alert my captor, my eyes grow wide when I realize its him who is the heavy heated weight pressing down on me. His head is nestled in the crook of my arm and his face is pressed up against my still covered breast. At least he didn’t strip me completely bare. The tickle of his whiskers rasp at the side of my body, and I try my best not to move away from the sensation. Searching around with my eyes I try to locate a weapon of some kind. Maybe he left his knife on him? Not that I could get to it with my hands tied above my head. When he shifts a little and brings his hips closer to my thigh he is pressed against I feel him—it, actually. A long thick shaft drags along my leg only covered by his flannel pajama pants. I wait for the panic and disgust to roll through me but when it doesn’t come I look back down at him. He is still out, sleeping peacefully until his brow creases and his hands start twitching. His head shakes and the scowl worsens on his once peaceful face.He is having a nightmare. He lets out a groan and his hips start moving along my leg. He is grinding his erection on me! Still the panic doesn’t set in. Not even when his arms tighten around me and inaudible words fall from his parted lips. The pained expression on his face contradicts his lower half that seems to be completely happy with what is happening. “No.” The first word I can make out falls out of his mouth as a desperate plea, like someone is hurting him. I want to break my silence and wake him but this insight into him stops me. What is his dream about? Who is hurting him? Questions flood my mind as his movements become choppy and his grip gets tighter. With a long drawn out groan I feel him start to slow and stiffen as his pants become damp on my leg. It’s then that my eyes find his—wide open and gazing at me. The dark irises being eaten by gold flecks taking over the green outerrim.
We pause there in time for a moment. The tension thick between us. The heady smell of his pleasure hangs in the thinning air making my lower half do things I haven’t felt is some time. Heat floods me as he starts to lean in like he is about to kiss me. Then, as if a gun has just rung out above my head, I snap out of it and jerk my body. Throwing him off of me. He lands on the floor with a thud and starts laughing. Freaking laughing. “Shit. It’s been a long ass time since I had a wet dream.” The laugh sounds forced but he hides it well as he gets to his feet. He steps further away from the bed then does something I’m not expecting. He starts pulling his pants down. His back is still to me but when the fabric exposes the top globes of his ass cheeks, I force my eyes away and go back to staring at the wall opposite of where he stands. He continues to chuckle under his breath and as if he wants to annoy me further, he starts whistling. I don’t know the tune, maybe it’s just something he made up, but it’s a happy tune. Almost mocking. “Guess it was having a hot body next to mine. It’s been a while,” he confesses, coming to the bed once again this time in my line of sight. He has on a pair of jeans now and a black thermal shirt. Regarding me with creased brows he looks down at me. “I dry hump your leg while you are sleeping and you still can’t give me one word. Not even a hiss of disgust?” He laughs again. “Fine then, tiger.” He walks away, and I hear sounds coming from the small kitchen setup. The scent of food fills my nose and my stomach growls in protest of the empty pit. The granola bars I kept in my pocket only sustained me solong.
“Open up.” His words come into the thoughts of being hungry I try to push away. He is holding a spoonful of soup in front of me and in my defiant way I take the bite. I wait for only a moment—when he seems pleased with himself for getting me to take the food—before spraying it back at him. The salty mixture of vegetables and broth hits him square in the face, where I clearly see the hit I gave him last night, adding to the damage I caused during our first encounter. The purple shading underneath his eyes is now painted with vegetable soup. “You are a feisty one,” is all he says, setting the bowl and spoon on the side table. Then he takes his hand and swipes along his face, gathering up the discarded food. When I think he is just about to wipe it along his jeans, he brings his opposite hand to my throat then the soiled hand to my mouth. Without warning, he thrusts his fingers into my mouth holding them as deep as he can get them. Gasping around the digits, I try breathing through my nose but it’s useless because his other hand grips around my neck. “There is a reason why you are here and it isn’t just to kill me,” he growls in my face. My mouth stretches to the limit with his salty vegetable soup coated fingers, stalling any attempts I might make to defend myself, or even respond. I try my best to clench my jaw shut—to bite him—but it doesn’t happen. “You are either going to tell me why the fuck you are here to kill me or you are—” His words falter, as if he just realized what he was doing to me. He jerks back and wipes away my saliva and the soup onto his pants. “Fuck it,” he grumbles stalking over to the kitchen. I keep my eyes on him as he pulls something from a drawer and tosses it at me. The thin steel blade of a butcher knife slaps against my bare stomach, bounces off and lands on the mattress. “You cut yourself free and we will see who wins this little showdown we have going onhere.”