Page 10 of My Captive's Heart
No more fight left in me under the onslaught of wicked pleasure, I accept his perfect barbarity. Scratching and clawing at the ground. Moaning and whimpering uncontrollably.
Our hips slap together, creating an erotic symphony.
My pussy makes wet noises every time he bottoms out.
My ass cheeks smart with each hard spank.
The denied orgasm rises from its slumber. Desperate for it, I meet his every thrust. Capturing my wrists, he pulls them behind my back to pin me down with one hand. Shoving a hand between the ground and my body, he seeks out my clit and frantically flicks and rubs it.
“Yes… Yes!” I whimper, forgetting everything but the need to come.
Stuffing me full of his dick, his finger pinches my nub lightly, sparking my climax to life. I choke his shaft with my clenching walls as I orgasm hard and blindingly.
Covering my back entirely, he lifts my ass off the ground and drills my pussy like it’s a cocksleeve.
Tears leak from my eyes, while a smile curls my lips as he uses me for his pleasure for the first time. Uncaring if he brings me a little pain. Unbothered if he leaves bruises.
His groin presses flush against my ass as he stills, shooting his ropey cum inside me. Aware I have an implant.
My pussy warms at the feel of him filling me up.
His thrusts switch to a slow grind as I fall limp. Every inch of my body is humming in satisfaction.
In awe of my boyfriend’s performance, not knowing he had it in him, I break character. “Fucking hell, Matt.”
He stills.
“I’m not going to be able to walk for a week.” I chuckle. His chest lifts off my back as he pulls out his semi-hard cock. My breathing calming down a little, I turn over with an impressed grin. “I told you that yo?—”
A white handkerchief covers my nose and lips.
I shudder in fright, eyes widening as I’m forced to inhale the fabric.
Is he drugging me?
What is Matt doing? This wasn’t part of the plan.
The black mask stares back at me as I grab his wrist, feeling the drug take effect. I mumble something, but it’s swallowed up by the hand on my mouth.
My last thought before blackness consumes me?
The masked man isn’t my boyfriend.
FIVE
MOLLY
I wakeup with a start with my heart beating frantically.
The events of the night before replay in my head in slow motion. A horror reel that I can’t pause, or swipe up, or marknot interested.
It wasn’t Matt.
I’ve been tricked and truly stolen off the street.
I. Am. A. Real. Hostage.
“Shit,” I curse, bile rising in my throat.
