Beautiful Captivity (The Club #1) (7 page)

Her

…

I think he loves me. Keith used to tell me he loved me, but only when he wanted something. I think Zane loves me, and I think he’s scared of it.
I’m
scared of it. Because I think I might feel something for him as well.

He cleans up the cereal bowls and plates, and then goes to the living room. We don’t have cable, so the TV doesn’t work, and there are only three books in the house. One is a plumbing manual. The other two are mystery novels. Zane picks one up and begins to read. I don’t know what to do, so I sit beside him, and think about school, about getting here, about everything that’s gone.

I was so excited to move on. My mother took the day off work to help me move to the dorms, and she talked for the entire ride up about letting go, about leaving Keith behind. I knew she was right, but I wasn’t ready. It only took a few days, though, of constant calls and Facebook messages, him saying that now I had no excuse. By the time he came to visit, I was angry, and he didn’t even last one night before he ended it, angry that I wasn’t interested.

Keith was my boyfriend in high school, but he was the kind of boyfriend you have because you have nothing else to do. I never really connected to him, and I wasn’t even that attracted to him. When we would make out, or when things got a little heavier and he would ask to finger me, it was always sloppy, boring. I didn’t feel excited about having sex with him, although I actually did want to have sex. I just hadn’t met someone who made me want to have it with them.

After he left, I cried. I didn’t want to sleep with him, but I didn’t want to break up, either. Having a boyfriend mattered to me. I wanted to be in love. I thought maybe I could learn to love him. My roommates comforted me, but they decided I just needed to learn to have fun, to leave behind all the strings that came with sex. I couldn’t do it, at least not all the way. I wanted it to be special. But when I went to the club, I thought I would experiment, see if I could learn to enjoy sex, learn to want to be with a man. I didn’t understand it, but I just wasn’t attracted to anyone sexually. I couldn’t picture sex being pleasurable.

Now, it seems so strange. I’m not happy that they took me, but with Zane, I realized that nothing was wrong with me. It was only that one day, but thinking about his body, thinking about the way he touched me, I get excited again. I never felt like this before, but I want Zane to do it again. I want to do more with him.

Zane gets up to take a shower, leaving me alone on the couch. I picture him naked under the water. It’s arousing, thinking of him. I wonder if he’s touching himself, if he thinks about being with me again. I wonder if he liked what we did.

I think about his belt. I imagine what it would feel like on my naked skin. It can’t be normal that I want to feel that. That I grow wet picturing him hitting me with it again, hard on my ass, right before he enters me.

The thought burns at me, and I take off my pants, lying back on the sofa. I don’t know how to be this attracted to a man. I never really touched myself growing up. I couldn’t think of anything that got me wet, but picturing Zane, remembering him inside of me, imagining him hitting me with his belt again, calling out my name, I need to feel something.

I reach my fingers under the elastic of my panties. My pussy is hot. I didn’t know it got this hot. It’s also drenched, making it easy to slide a couple fingers inside myself. It isn’t like it was with R. That was terrifying, but when I think of Zane, his beautiful body, I let the fear go, and touch myself. I explore the inside of my cunt, running my fingers along the walls, pushing against the spot that makes me wetter. I touch my clit, teasing it, desperate for Zane and his cock.

I don’t hear him come back in the room until he speaks.

“What are you doing?”

I’m embarrassed, but as I look up, I see that he is only wearing his towel from the shower, and his erection is prominent.

“I was remembering being with you. I…” I can’t say it. It’s humiliating. I should not want him this badly.

He drops the towel and grabs his shaft in his hand. “Keep touching yourself, Nichole. But take off the panties. I want you to spread your legs and show me how wet your pussy is. I want to see the place where I belong. I want to look at it as you prepare it for my cock.”

I can’t get my panties off fast enough, opening my legs and spreading myself for him. He moves his hand fast over his cock and I watch the liquid that starts to gather at the tip. His eyes don’t move.

“Tell me what to do,” I beg.

He moves closer, his hand still on himself, but he doesn’t touch me. He just looks at me, watching my fingers move in and out of my cunt. It’s so wet and I want him. I want him to tell me what he wants, what to do.

“I want to own you, but I want you to want me to own you. I want you to give yourself to me completely, to let me show you what you want,” he says.

“I want the belt,” I say, turning my eyes to the floor. I shouldn’t want that. I shouldn’t feel this need to be punished, but I move my fingers faster, and I can already feel the sweet sting.

“I want your ass to belong to me, Nichole. I want to make you remember me inside you when you move,” he growls.

“I’ll do anything,” I say. “Just tell me what. I’m yours, Zane. Take me, please.”

HIM

…

“I’m yours, Zane
.” Even the words make me wild for her. I watch her fingers as they move. They glisten from her pussy and I have to restrain myself. I need to be inside of her, to feel her wrapped around my cock, to own her. I am the only man who has been there, and it is a privilege. I want to keep her safe, but I also want to keep her here because I don’t want to think about another man touching her, of another man making her come.

“You’re mine,” I tell her. “Come with me.” I lick her fingers clean and then lead her by the hand to the bedroom. It’s not the nicest room, and after the luxury of the house, she may be disappointed. However, I intend to make her forget everything but my cock.

“I want you on the bed. I’m going to hit you, but only because I know it turns you on. You can ask me to stop if you want me to stop, but I promise, baby, I will make all the pain go away as soon as I’m done.”

She bends over the bed, lifting her perfect ass to me. I hate seeing what Reagan did to her on her body, but I want to help her. I want her to associate sex with pleasure, pain with pleasure. I want her to know what it feels like to be under my control, willingly.

I take my belt from the dresser and loop it, before bringing it down lightly on her ass. She doesn’t move or make a noise.

“Did that hurt?” I ask her.

“No,” she says. “I want it, Zane. I want you to hit me. Please.”

I wind up and bring the belt down harder, but she still doesn’t move. There is no cry, no recognition of pain, but also not recognition of pleasure.

“Baby, are you sure?”

“Please, don’t hold back,” she begs.

I bring it down again, this time as hard as I can, and she jerks back from the lashing. She cries out and I feel guilt, until I reach between her legs and feel how wet she is.

“You like that, Nichole?”

“I love it. Again.”

I hit her again, and she grows wetter. She repeats again, and each time I hit, and then check her pussy. She is so wet that I don’t know how she hasn’t flooded the carpet with her juices now. I don’t know how much longer I can wait to possess her, so I wind up one more time, bringing the belt down hard across her ass, and then I turn her.

I push her body up onto the bed and start at her feet. “These are my feet. You use them to come to me when I call,” I command. I kiss along her legs and her thighs. I skip over her cunt, because that’s where I want to end.

“This is my stomach. You eat when I tell you.” I continue my journey upwards. “These are my tits. I will touch them, tease them,
bite them, at my will. You will not wear anything that will allow men to see even a hint of them, because they are mine, baby.”

She moans. “Yours. All yours.”

I kiss her lips. “My mouth,” I tell her. “My eyes. I only want you to look at me.”

“I could never look at another man,” she says.

I smile and move back to my prize. I almost come just looking at it. I spread her legs wiser and lick the length of her pussy. I let out an animal growl, and go back for more, licking and sucking her pussy and her clit. She begins to buck up toward my mouth, but I hold her hips down so she can’t claim more than I want to give her.

“This, baby, this is all mine. No one has been in here, and no one else will. This is where my cock belongs. This is where I belong. You have given it to me, and it’s mine. You understand.”

“Yes, Zane, I understand. My cunt belongs to you. I am yours to control, to own. I want you to own me. I want you to use it, because it’s yours. Only yours. It will only ever be for you.”

I bring my mouth down on her again, but it’s hard to focus, because I need to bury myself. I need to feel her. I give in to the lust, although I tell myself I will learn more control, and make it last longer in the future.

I press my cock against her entrance, which is flooded, waiting for me. I can feel the heat from her, and I want to slide in, but I wait until she looks me in the eye.

“You will not come, until I instruct you. I want you to hold your orgasm. Or I will not allow you to finish tonight.”

She nods, but as soon as I enter her, I feel the telltale clenching of her pussy. She will never be able to hold out, but I want to keep my word.

“Think of something else, Nichole, because if you start to come, I will leave, and you will sleep alone tonight.”

Her

…

When he enters me, I try not to come. I try to quell the rising ecstasy brewing, but he is right. He
belongs
inside me. It’s a homecoming, and I need him. I can’t control it. As he thrusts deeper, and I feel his body arch above mine, it happens almost instantaneously. I was already so wet, so turned on from his belt and his words, and now… I can’t stop. The tingles explode on each nerve ending, and I feel it starting.

“Yes,” I cry, but then, he’s gone. He’s left me empty, needing. The orgasm is right there. I can feel it, but it won’t come. It’s on pause and Zane stands from the bed.

“I warned you. Perhaps tomorrow, we can try again.”

And he leaves, to sleep on the couch. I want to follow, but I know he won’t care. He won’t give me what I want.

The ache in my pussy is agonizing. I look around the room, hoping for something, anything, to take his place, but there is nothing. I reach between my legs and touch myself, pulling the orgasm out, but it’s dissatisfying. I come, but it’s only a hint of what he could have given me, and I want to cry.

“Zane,” I call, over and over, but he doesn’t come back. I almost get up, go to him, but I can’t handle his rejection. Instead, I roll over, and fall asleep, trying to forget the yearning my body feels.

…

I wake to Zane behind me, rubbing his hands along my hip, and pressing his erection against me, between my legs, the head of his cock slipped just slightly between my folds. I jerk myself back toward him, but he anticipates and matches the movement, so only the head remains in position.

“Are you ready to do what I ask?”

I nod.

“I can’t hear you, baby.”

“Yes, Zane. I will hold the orgasm. I will only come when you tell me to. Please, please, fuck me.”

He bites my neck and growls into my ear. “No. I don’t want to hear that language. What do you want?”

“I want you to take what’s yours,” I say.

“Yes, this is mine. Mine. Say it, Nichole. Say that it’s mine, as I fuck you so hard you scream. I want you to know what it means to be fucked. You continue to use that language, and so I’m going to fuck you. I am going to show you the difference between what we have done, and fucking.
Roll over, onto your back.”

I do and he spreads my legs wide, lifting them to rest on his shoulders. He moves back to slide the head of himself into me and looks at me, his eyes dark.

“Say it,” he commands.

“Take what’s yours. I am yours.”

“Mine,” he groans, and then he plunges into me with force I could never have imagined. He holds my feet on his shoulders and pushes hard, deep, with everything he has, repeating the word, “mine.”

“Yours. My cunt is yours,” I say.

He fucks me. It’s hard and rough, and as I start to come, he freezes and growls, “did I tell you you could come yet?”

“No.”

“Stop.”

I do, somehow controlling it, somehow slowing my breathing, as he fucks me harder and rougher. I feel like my pussy has been stretched as far as it can go, but he keeps thrusting. He makes noises like an animal, grunting as he clutches my ankles and uses them to lift my ass to him. He goes so deep that all I can feel is his cock.

“Fuck, baby, I am so lucky. Why am I lucky?”

“Because I am all yours.”

“That’s right. And now, you can come. I want you to scream my name so loud that everyone knows what you are, that everyone knows who owns you, that everyone knows that this cunt it mine.”

At the word, I let go, and the orgasm that has been building since last night is like a dam collapsing. I tighten and feel his cock throbbing through the entirety of my pussy. I can’t take it and I just let this insane bliss take me, into a world of absolute pleasure. I lose reality, and all there is is Zane, and his movements on top of me, and inside of me. He kisses me everywhere, and whispers my name.

“You are so beautiful when you come,” he says.

I feel beautiful. I feel powerful. I don’t know how or why, because what brought me here is beyond crazy, but I don’t feel like a young college girl in Zane’s arms. I feel like a woman, a goddess. I have all the control, and although he plays these games with me, I realize that I own him just as much. He loves me.

“I love you, Zane,” I whisper, as the last tremors of orgasm take me away into semi consciousness, and he brings his mouth down on mine. He doesn’t say it back, but I know. I can feel it in his lips, his tongue, the muscles in his back, and in his thrusting. He. Loves. Me.