The Price of Freedom (12 page)

Their blood stained his clothing…

He closed in on her, pulling her into his arms.

"I've waited for this forever," he said, kissing the side of her neck softly. "Do you have any idea what kind of hell I've been through? Now I'm a free man, with a woman of my own. I can't tell you how much this means to me, Bethany. Just being alone here with you seemed like an impossible dream. Now we can build a life together."

She tried to ignore him, focus on the things he had done. He was violent man, a controlling man who was taking away her freedom.

But none of that mattered as he touched her.

His hands clutched her shoulders, then ran up and down her arms. He seemed to be reassuring himself she was real, that this was really happening.

He kissed her neck again, then nibbled his way to her lips. She expected an assault, a follow- up to the brutal kisses he'd given her outside her father's apartment. But he was so soft, so gentle. His lips nipped at hers, coaxing them to respond to his touch. She shivered, and he reached his arms around her.

Her body brushed against his lightly. The tips of her breasts touched his chest, and the bulge of his swelling cock grazed her stomach.

She remembered what that monster felt like inside her body.
So good…

Against her will she responded, opening her lips just a bit. She could taste him now. Salty with sweat. He smelled sweaty, too. Normally she would have found it distasteful, but there was something so masculine about his smell. Something raw and new.

She wanted to taste him. Bethany opened her lips further and her tongue darted out. He stilled, then pulled her forcefully against his body. Now he was giving her the kiss she expected; the ravaging follow-up to his earlier touch. He was hungry for her, he wanted her, and he was going to take her. She could feel it in the tension of his arms, the thrust of his cock against her soft belly. She shivered, moaning deep within her throat. It was a moan of need and fear combined, a moan of submission. In her heart she knew he was right; she did belong to him. A thrill ran through her as she realized he belonged to her, too.

He groaned in return, every pore of his body oozing masculine triumph. The captor was about to take his spoils.

Then he pulled away from her, and put his hands on her shoulders.

"I've been thinking about this for along time," he said softly. His dark blue eyes burned, like those of a being possessed by some dark force. Slowly he started pressing down against her shoulders. She whimpered as she realized what he intended.

"On your knees," he whispered. "I want you to start on your knees. I've thought about your lips every moment, dreamt of having them on me every night. I've already pleasured you with my mouth. Will you do the same for me?"

She shivered, remembering how it had felt when he'd kissed her between her legs. It had been hot and pulsing, pleasure and pain more exquisite than anything she'd ever imagined. She understood all too well why he wanted her to do the same to him.

Without speaking, she dropped to her knees before him. He leaned back against the door, both hands pressed flat against it. She looked up at him and his eyes burned through her, feverish in his need.

Then she turned her attention to the bulge straining his pants.

Raising one finger, she traced the length of it through the cloth. It was so strong and warm, it leapt under her touch, a creature with a mind all its own.

She could feel its shape. There was the shaft, straight and true. It stretched upward toward his belly, narrowing just a bit before her fingers reached the flare at the end. The head was broad and rounded. It had seemed too big as it pressed into her body earlier and it seemed even bigger now. How had she managed to take it into her womb? And how would she manage to take it into her mouth?

She remembered performing this same act on her aging husband with a shudder of disgust, but this was different. As much as she wanted to tell herself that she didn't want to touch him, that he was forcing her to do this, she couldn't. She wondered, with every fiber of her being, what he tasted like. She could smell him, musky and masculine, and she wanted more. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

She reached for the fastening of his pants, slowly pulling them open. He wasn't wearing anything beneath; with a start she realized he probably didn't own anything else. Even his pants were the same ones she had cut off him, then stitched back together while he lay ill. She pulled the pants down a bit and all thoughts of his clothing disappeared. There it was, his cock. It stood proud and large, waiting for her touch. He grunted, catching her attention.

"Keep moving," he said softly. She nodded.

She peeled back his trousers and pulled them down his legs a bit. Now she could see all of him. His long, hard cock. His balls, hanging just below in their sack. Already they pulled up, tight and tense.

Despite the limitations of her experience, she knew he wasn't going to last that long once she touched him. What would he taste like, coming in her mouth?

Once again she traced his length with her hand, but this time there was no fabric between them. He was soft, and oh-so-warm to the touch. She followed the vein along the underside, first trailing one finger up it and then reaching out with the tip of her tongue. She traveled up the shaft slowly, exploring every bump and wrinkle with her tongue. Then she reached the top. There was a little dip in the skin there, a spot where the ridge of his cock-head came together. She tickled it with her tongue and he gasped.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and touched her tongue to that spot again. He gazed back at her, eyes bright as deep blue coals; he dropped his head back against the door and moaned.

"Take it into you mouth," he whispered, as in pain. "Take it into your mouth and suck it. I need you to touch me there."

She did as she was told, opening her mouth and slowly sucking the head of his cock. He tasted hot and salty. Sweet. She could feel a rush of moisture building between her thighs—oh, she wanted him.

One of his hands came up to grasp the back of her head firmly, pushing her down onto his length.

He wanted more from her.

She sucked him in further, careful to keep her teeth from grazing against him. She wasn't able to get him in all the way, and when he hit the back of her throat, she choked. Instantly his hand stopped pushing.

"You don't have to take more of me than you can handle," he whispered painfully. "Just take what you can…" His words broke as he moaned in pleasure.

She nodded, bobbing up and down on him as she did so. He gasped, and she realized just how much power this new position gave her.

He was hers now.

Moving slowly, she pulled up on the cock with one hand, mimicking the sucking motions of her mouth. Then she pushed back down. She repeated the movement, going more quickly this time. His hand clenched in her hair, and she did it again. Soon she was in a rhythm that seemed to be working for both of them. She could feel him growing harder in her mouth. More moisture leaked from him as well.

Without thinking, she wrapped both arms around his hips and grasped the cheeks of his butt firmly in her fingers. She needed some leverage if she was going to do this right.

Her head moved back and forth, quicker and quicker. Each stroke brought him just a little closer to exploding. She could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, taste it in the seed he was already starting to leak into her mouth. His hand clenched her hair more tightly, the slight pain spurring her on.

Her mouth was starting to ache and her neck was growing tired. It should have been terribly uncomfortable for her to keep her pace, but it was as if she were no longer in charge of her own body.

There was an ache building between her legs and in her breasts. She wanted his hands on them, to feel his rough fingers play with her nipples.

She wanted that hard cock inside her.

He gasped, all but whimpering with need. His hips started thrusting against her head, moving her faster and faster toward the explosion of his seed. He muttered something low under his breath, then both his hands were on her head, pulling her face into his cock with such force it should have been painful. All she could think about was how much she wanted him to thrust against her in another place. If he was too spent from this to fuck her afterward, she was going to die.

His cock was knocking at the back of her throat with each thrust now. She tried to time herself with it, and suddenly she was swallowing it, pulling him deep within her throat. He gasped and pulled her head more tightly against him. She swallowed again, feeling her throat muscles tighten around him. She couldn't breath. Acting on instinct, she swallowed again and this time kept swallowing, massaging him with her muscles even as she started seeing spots from lack of oxygen. He gave a startled cry, and then he exploded into her. She could feel the hot spurts of come slither down her throat and felt light-headed. His fingers clutched her head so hard it hurt, and then he was slowly pulling out of her mouth.

She felt sore, almost raw. And so empty…

He slowly sank to the floor and pulled her close to his body. He was kissing her eyes, her nose, her mouth. He murmured soft words and rubbed the back of her head as she collapsed against his chest, gasping for air.

"I'm so sorry," he said, "So sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, Beth. Oh, Bethie, I'm so sorry…"

It took her a moment to realize what he was saying.

"You didn't hurt me," she whispered, voice sounding raw even to her. "I startled myself there, but you didn't hurt me."

"You must be exhausted," he whispered, still cradling her. She nodded her head, realizing he was right. She was exhausted. But she was also far too restless and awake to sleep. The heaviness that had built up between her legs, in her breasts, was still there. She needed something to make it go away. She needed him inside her body.

Slowly, he stood and pulled her up with him. He led her to the bed he had made for them, gesturing to it vaguely.

"You need to rest," he said. "I won't bother you."

She looked him in the eye and started to unfasten the laces that held her dress closed across the front. He seemed startled, almost embarrassed.

"This is the only thing I have to wear," she whispered. "I don't want to sleep in it, too. Beside that, the fabric will bunch up as I sleep. I can't imagine I'd get much rest that way."

He watched in silence as she pulled the dress slowly down her shoulders, then stepped out of it. She was nearly naked now; only her shift separated her from his gaze. It was faded and thin from a thousand washings. She turned to face him, standing straight. Her nipples stood out, pink peaks clearly visible.

"I think we should go to bed now," she said softly.

Chapter Nine

Jess had never felt so confused in his life. He'd all but raped this woman's mouth. Her lips were red and swollen from sucking him; even her voice rasped from the strain he'd put on her throat. Now she seemed to be inviting him to do more. Even though he had spent himself just moments earlier, his cock was already coming to attention.

He could bite her, she looked so ripe. How was he going to survive sleeping next to her?

Instead, he turned and strode to the door, flicking off the light. He pulled at his clothing as he felt his way back to the bed. She was already there, waiting for him. Still wearing the damn shift.

He lay down next to her, pulling a blanket over both of them. She turned away from him, facing the wall. He reached around her body and pulled her close. She snuggled up to him, tight little ass wiggling. If he wasn't careful he'd explode on the spot, he thought darkly.

He reached his hand up to her chest, allowing it to cup one of those full, ripe breasts he'd seen through her shift. It fit his hand perfectly as if she had been made specifically for his touch. He found the nipple with two of his fingers, squeezing it lightly. It was already hard, a little nub that cried out to be kissed.

"I'm going to take off your shift," he whispered. She nodded her head, and he rolled her toward him.

He reached down beneath the blankets and found the hem of her garment, then slowly pulled it upward.

His fingers brushed against bare flesh as he moved up her body; he could have sworn she shivered in response.

Then he had it up and over her head. Jess rolled her to her back and leaned down, mouth finding her breast in the darkness. He sucked the nipple in, tonguing it with satisfaction. It was tight and sweet, all his. He sucked it deeper and dropped a hand between her legs.

She was sopping wet.

A surge of triumph went through him. She wanted him, regardless of what had happened between them that day. He slipped his fingers between her folds, finding her clit. He let his fingers play it gently, and she quivered beneath him.

"Oh, Goddess," she whispered. "That feels so good, Jess."

Smiling against her breast, he rolled her clit again, then let two of his fingers sink into her hot, wet opening. He pushed them in as far as they would reach, wiggling them around before pulling back out again. He began to thrust into her with those fingers until she squirmed against his hand. Her fingers plucked at his shoulders and she whimpered in need.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked finally, lifting his head from her breast. "Because if you do, I think you should ask me. I don't want to make any mistakes here."

"I want you to fuck me" she whispered. "Please, Jess, I
need
you to fuck me. Right now."

He shivered, then raised himself up over her body. He kneed her already spread legs further apart, then reached down to position himself at her opening. The moment felt unreal, as if he was stepping into one of his own dreams.

Slowly, steadily, he started pushing in. It was easier than he'd expected. She was so hot and wet that her cunt seemed to almost suck him in, pulling him down into her depths. He pushed until he could feel his balls against her body, then stayed there for a moment, quivering. She squeezed him a little, massaging him deep down inside, and he moaned.

Then he pushed himself to his knees and reached around to grasp her ankles. He pulled her legs up over his shoulders, moving her gently into position. He wanted to find her deepest spots, to impale her beneath him until she begged him for more. She whimpered.

Pulling out slowly, he started thrusting in and out with a steady rhythm. She twisted beneath him, but he ignored her movements, focusing only on maintaining his motion—in and out, in and out. Each stroke was torture. She was hot and wet and tight, but he was determined not to explode in her this time.

Not until she exploded around him.

He could feel his cock scraping against her clit with each outward stroke. He lifted himself a bit, bracing himself with her legs and leaning down into her. The change in position gave him new leverage.

He was striking bottom now, bumping up against her cervix with every thrust. The little gasps she gave as he hit drove him wild.

He could feel the tension building between them—she was getting closer. Her breathing was ragged, and he could feel her muscles tightening around him. She whimpered again and then she was stiffening beneath him.

"Oh, Goddess,” she whispered. "Oh, Goddess, this is too much. You have to make it end. Jess, you have to make this end or I'm going to die."

He laughed, then gasped as her muscles convulsed around him. She muttered something and arched her back. It felt like his cock was trapped in a vise, painful and incredible all at the same time. She squeezed him again and again, whimpering and thrashing her head. This was not a gentle pleasure; it seemed to be ripping her apart.

He wasn't able to control himself any longer. He pulled back, then slammed into her, pressing her body back down with his full weight. She screamed and he did it again. He was going to come himself.

He was ready for it, desperate to feel his own release. He slammed into her a third time, and to his triumph another orgasm hit her. She clutched him tightly and he exploded, shooting his seed into her body even as his hips bucked and trembled against hers.

Finally, when his head stopped spinning, he lowered her legs from his shoulders. She was limp, completely spent. He allowed himself to collapse on top of her body, remaining embedded in her flesh.

Within seconds they were both asleep.