Page 41 of The Captain's Bounty
“I could if you took these off.” She meant to rattle the handcuffs at him, but at the first shake, she brushed up against him and instinctively closed her hand around the thing she touched. All the way around, so… not his thigh. And not his wrist.
Dear God, she’d just grabbed his cock! It wasn’t flaccid, either. It was thick and long, and hard as hell.
She immediately let go, her gasp so loud it actually echoed in the tube. “When the hell did you get naked?”
“Do you not get naked when you clean yourself?”
“No! I-I mean, yes… but y-you’re not supposed to get nakedwithme! This is a kidnapping! Can’t you–y-you keep it professional?”
“Professional?” He chuckled, and all those chills under her skin became instant goosebumps. Her nipple tightened. Her pussy ached, every rivulet of water trickling down her belly to drip between her thighs, as soft as fingertips caressing through her folds.
“You know what I mean. And what difference does it make anyway? Bath or shower, you’re still manhandling me!”
The gentle hands in her hair stopped. The next she knew, he’d tightened his fist in her hair, and instead of being held under the spray, he shoved her flat against the wall.
The hot press of his cock pressed into the crack of her ass and the small of her back. She had never been so aware of anything as she was of his teeth when he nipped the nape of her neck, and then slowly, savoringly, even sensuously, bit her. She could feel her skin dimple beneath the points of his prominent canines, so vividly she could almost ignore the growing interest of the entity, at least until it plucked at her nerve endings in harmony, amplifying the effects of Bruwes’ touch and bringing her right to the edge of orgasm.
“A bath is what lovers do, a calm gentle mating designed to keep me from going into Rage,” he breathed against her neck. “A shower is harder.” He pumped his hips, not soft faux thrusts, but a single hard one that bounced her hips into the shower tube and made her pussy throb in wanton response. She wasn’t supposed to like the slick slide of his cock gliding up and down along hercrack, the tip of it bumping into her captured fists. She certainly wasn’t supposed to moan, but stopping that errant sound wasn’t possible.
He laughed again, moved around to the other side of her neck, biting just below the sensitive lobe of her ear.
“The difference is also this.” His other hand shoved between her and the wall, squeezing to get down between her tensing legs, and taking ownership of her pussy at last. He grabbed all of it, squeezing hard enough to make her shout.
“Keep it professional?” he asked with a throaty purr. Fingers releasing their hold, he parted her instead.
“Oh no,” she breathed, but “oh yes” was the magic of his fingers stroking as he parted her seam to bathe in the slick flood that spilled from her.
“You like your Master’s touch,” he laughed, throaty and deep.
Her throat tightened. Unable to make herself speak, she shook her head.
Abandoning her needy pussy, he shoved far enough off her to land a hard barrage of stinging slaps to as much of her bottom as the narrow confines would allow.
She made it through the first five or six smacks with gritted teeth before he broke her silence. She shouted, but whether he stopped because of that or because he was simply finished, she didn’t know. She only knew the pain he’d ignited went straight to her clit, and so did his hand again. Pinned to the shower wall by the hair, she couldn’t move, couldn’t protest.
Nor do you want to, the being chuckled.
I thought physicality disgusted you! Lissa thought at it, embarrassed.
It does. It used to, it amended in a scientifically-interested internal tone.I suppose our fusion has acclimated me to some degree, which in turn has allowed me to more closely observe.
Don’t observe. And don’t participate! Go away!
I can’t, the entity replied placidly.
Well, then at least stop watching!
I can’t. It followed Bruwes’ hand down her body, stimulating from within what he explored from without.And I don’t particularly want to.
“You like this.” Bruwes reclaimed her pussy with another gentle stroke of his fingers, so slick from both herself and the soapy water that she could have cried.
Her hips twitched, bumping her back against his cock, and she did not move away. She leaned into him wantonly, rubbing her burning ass against that hard promise while he showed her the proof of her desire dripping from his fingers.
“You,” Bruwes whispered in her ear, “like this very much.”
She shivered, with the hot spray of the shower pouring part on her and part on him. It was luxurious, and for her that was a whole new definition of the word, growing up as she did in her family’s neat, scholarly home.
This was different. It was seductive and wrong, and yet how could anything this good be truly bad?
