“Am I hurting you now, Nicole?” he said. He closed his eyes, sighing every time his prick delved down to the hilt inside of her. She saw him draw a deep breath, then slowly open his eyes and look her as if puzzled. She put her hands on his face, almost tenderly, and looked him directly in the eyes. “Please don’t come in me,” she said. “Please. Please don’t. Please—pull out before you come. Please.”
He ground his teeth to hold back his orgasm. He jammed himself deeper and deeper into her. “I’m going to come in you,” he said, grunting. “I’m going to come in your sweet body.” He pushed himself into her as hard and deep as he could, and it felt as if he burst open into her. She sobbed and her hands were vainly clawing at his shirt on his back. He slowly rolled off, breathing heavily. Then he turned on his side to face her.
“When is your menstrual period due?” he asked.
She could barely speak through her tears. “Um… in a few days, I think.”
“Then what are you worried for? You’re in the safe zone. I’m not diseased if that’s what you’re worried about.” He leaned over to kiss her, and she petulantly twisted her face aside. “Don’t pull away from me, bitch, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” he said, pointing her face to him, and they kissed some more, his tongue pushing into her mouth.
He didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave, and kept her close to him. He was mumbling some song under his breath, too softly for her to catch any of the words. She was barely conscious of him, except as an irritant. But every time he moved she became aware of him as a threat. After awhile she risked turning over onto her side. He propped himself up onto an elbow and gazed down on her silently. His fingertips lovingly caressed her curves, her side and her hip and shoulder, up and down continuously, while she stared forward at the wall.
“You can’t hate me forever,” he said. “You don’t really hate me Nicole, do you?”
She wanted to scream yes, but her abused and weak lips said no.
Chapter 7
All the lights had been switched off. The room was dark. She was almost asleep beneath the blanket, when she felt him crawl in silently next to her. She could feel his soft, groping hand touching her body, feeling for the warm flesh between her legs. She pretended to be asleep, but he kissed her and made her squirm. He held her down firmly and, in spite of her determined resistance, he got her on her back and himself on her. He kissed her neck passionately, while his hand ran over her waist and hip. “I love you,” he said. He was intently thrusting into her body with long, even strokes. “I love you.”
When he was finished he left again as quietly as he came.
In the morning he fed her breakfast. Then he wrapped duct tape around her hands and feet, so that she was lying on her side, hands bound behind her back.
“I’m going to be gone the whole day,” he said. “No one ever comes around here, but just in case…” He stuffed a rag in her mouth and put a layer of duct tape over it. “Can you breathe through your nose?”
She shook her head, feeling claustrophobic. She was scared to be gagged all day. She was scared of suffocating.
He stood over her watching for a moment. “Just stay calm, you’ll be all right.”
When he was gone she closed her eyes against the fresh flow of tears. She was trying to stay relaxed and not cry. Her nose was running freely. She didn’t want it to become stuffed up. She wouldn’t be able to breathe. She put her head down finally resigned to her position.
She became so still she went into a kind of sleep, which she didn’t break out of until she heard the front door close. He had only been gone half the day. She was torn between being grateful he was back, and hating that she had to look at him again. He went into the kitchen with a couple of grocery bags before he cut the tape off her with a pair of scissors. She sat up stiffly. Her skin was sore and itchy where the duct tape had been.
“Hey, I got us some nice dinner,” he said, kissing her cheek, and searching her face with a steady gaze. “And I got this just in case,” he said showing her a pregnancy test box. “I’ve got to go lie down for a while, but we’ll talk some more later. Okay?” He kissed her again. “I’ll leave this with you.”
He tossed the pregnancy test box onto the floor next to her. Staring at it, she could feel a dangerous prickle in her throat at the thought. She didn’t want to look at it.
For dinner they had homemade fish and chips, with some kind of pre-prepared salad on the side.
“I’m going to get you some ice cream,” he said, unusually cheerful. “You’ve been so good.”
He retrieved a tub of ice cream, then sat down with her on the mattress. He watched as she dipped the metal spoon into the tub. Her face was still streaked with tears, and her hand was trembling slightly. Ice cream was the last thing she wanted, but she knew how it would be if she turned it down. She took a bite, and slowly swirled the melting morsel around her mouth. It was cookies and cream.
“Is that good?” he asked.
“It’s good.”
“Give me some.”
She held out the tub but he didn’t take it, just opened his mouth. She got a bit on the spoon for him. “More than that,” he said. She dug out even more then put it in his mouth. “Mmm. That is good. I’m going to get fucking brain freeze.” She forced a smile, with a laugh something like a cry. “Give me another bite. Do you have cookies and cream in Australia? Have some more.”
She obediently took another mouthful, and nodded.
“Is it your favorite?” he asked.
“No.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Strawberry.”
“Strawberry? Does your boyfriend know that’s your favorite?”
“Yes.”
“I bet he knows everything about you—everything a boyfriend should know about his girl. Do you get to talk to him all the time on the phone?”
“Yes.” She tasted some more ice cream, not looking at him.
“What do you talk about—are you all flirty and sweet with him? You missing him a little right now? He can’t be too far from around here, maybe a couple of hours. What’s his name?”
Her blood went cold for a second. She didn’t like that he was showing so much interest in Cameron so she lied. “Gary,” she said.
“And I suppose you two have the perfect little relationship, can’t wait to get married, have some babies, build a life together. Is he a good guy, makes you feel wanted, screws you nice and tenderly? But he never makes you come properly, does he? What are some things that you have been fantasizing that he would do to you? Hmm? You can tell me—tell me what you what him to do to you—what you miss about his dick.”
“Stop talking about him!” she said.
He took the ice cream off her, and started eating. He was looking into her eyes. “You can’t get to have sex with him very often when he’s over here and you’re back home. Aren’t you worried some other woman’s got her legs wrapped around him? Do you think he knows where you are right now? You think he knows you’re getting fucked by another man?”
She clutched her hair in both her hands as if she would tear it out, and started crying quietly.
“I could let you call him,” he said, “but what are you going to say to him? Hey?” He touched her hair. “What are you going to tell him about me? You think he would mind if I told him his girlfriend’s a sexy little fuck? That I like taking her hard and fast?”