Page 7 of My Captive's Heart
He pinches my nipple in retaliation.
Yes! Hurt me.
Tipping my head back to rest against his torso, I stare into a black entity as he tugs my shirt down. Baring my breast to the cold air, he pulls the peaked tip and twists, ripping a cry from me.
My thighs press together as my panties dampen.
His palm drags lower, wordlessly letting me know his intentions. He’s doing what I asked. Fucking me once before capturing me for the night. A second before he can make contact with the waistband of my pants, I realize I don’t want to give in so easily.
I’m craving more of the fight.
The push and pull.
The hunt.
Who knows if I’ll ever witness this side of him again? I want the full ferocity of my twisted fantasy, especially if soft lovemaking is what awaits me tomorrow.
With renewed strength that he doesn’t expect, I elbow him in the ribs.
Not expecting my move, it stuns him.
His fingers flexing on my body, I free myself.
Then I run.
FOUR
MOLLY
He chases after me instantly.
“Show me what you got!” I shout without looking back.
There’s no one but us in the dark field built like a maze. Every turn and nook feels like a trap, adding to the ecstasy filling my bloodstream.
Glancing down, I lift my hand to fix my top.
A freaking mistake.
“Oomph!” I slam into my masked abductor, who conjures out of thin air in front of me.
Crap! He took a shortcut.
Did Matt scout out the field beforehand?
Grabbing the back of my neck with one large palm, he slides the other underneath my ass and takes us both down. My heart lurches to my throat in anticipation of the jolt of clashing onto the dirty ground, but he’s gentle as he lays me flat.
There’s my Matt.
His softness lasts for only a second. Wrenching my arms over my head, he crisscrosses and traps them. Unlike before, there’s no give as I jerk and pull.
Dipping his chin, he stares at my heaving chest. The same breast he groped earlier has spilled free. I can’t help but arch and push them toward him.
Amusement wafts from him at my struggle.
Is it the same Matt I’ve known all these years? Why didn’t I tell him my fantasy sooner? Will he agree to making it a yearly tradition?
“Why are you doing this?” I ask fearfully, continuing to thrash and resist his touch. “What did I ever do to you?”
