Read Pretty When She Cries Online

Authors: Sarah Kate

Tags: #erotica abusive relationships, #dark erotica sex, #erotica explicit abduction sex, #erotical thriller, #dark sexual thriller

Pretty When She Cries (10 page)

BOOK: Pretty When She Cries
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He pulled her hair back to turn her face upwards and to push out her breasts. He ran his other hand over them, plucking her tiny nipples. The moaning and grunting from the porn excited him. “Kiss me. Keep kissing me,” he said. His hands went all over her torso—her shoulders, breasts, waist, buttocks. He pulled her into him with complete abandon. She kept kissing him, her tongue meeting his, circling and pushing back.

“Put your legs around me.” He stood up with her in his arms, taking care that his prick remained firmly planted in her. “I want you in my bed.”

She felt all shivery, and her pussy seemed burning with heat. She clung to him with a sinking heart as he carried her upstairs. His bedroom was small and stuffy and had a ’dirty clothes’ smell. He placed her on her back with her bottom projecting over the edge of the bed, her dress was all up, her thighs stretched wide open, and her legs resting on his shoulders. He held her hips, pulling her against him, as he just licked her pussy lips, then slipped his tongue in and wiggled it a little. She moved her thighs uneasily.

“Luscious pussy,” he said, rubbing his hand over it. He had a good look at it, sucking, and flicking his tongue at her clit. She was tense and colouring and flushing uneasily under his close inspection. After he had licked her continuously for about a minute, she felt herself go numb. Her whole body went limp. She gazed upward without seeing or feeling. She was in that state where she hardly knew what he was doing, and let him do whatever he wanted. He must have felt the life go out of her, because he slapped her thigh near her hip, and dug his tongue in harder. It woke her out of it. She flushed hotly and painfully.

“You prefer this to my dick, don’t you,” he said as he poked her and his thumb began to rub over her swollen clit. He made loud sloppy noises as he licked and sucked at it again. “I love eating pussy,” he said, rubbing vigorously. “You like me licking your pussy?”

He pushed her legs off his shoulders and stood up. Her legs dropped to the floor. She stayed motionless. The position flattened her tummy, and her hips, her pussy were pushed outwards towards him. He lightly touched her tummy while he massaged himself slowly, pinching the head. It was red and hot-looking. “See how hard you’ve got it? Lick it.”

She sat up, and leaning forward licked the swollen head of his dick. It was sticky and undesirable.

He let his jeans drop to the floor, then tore his shirt off over his head. He lay on the bed. “Take your dress off.” She started to lift it up over her head. “No, stand up and let it slip down your body. Be a little bit sexy for me.”

She got off the bed and slowly and obediently slipped the dress down the length of her body, tugging it down over her hips. When it lay at her feet she stepped out of it. She felt very slender and vulnerable, her hair falling loosely over her bare shoulders.

“Turn around and show me that ass. Bend over, spread your ass cheeks. You’ve got a nice looking little hole, nice and tight and neat. Give your ass a little slap.”

It was ridiculous doing what he asked, but she didn’t care about that any more. She just didn’t want to get hurt.

“Keep bending down,” he said. “Touch your clit with your finger, run it up and down. That’s it, keep bending over so I can see. Now stick your finger in your mouth. Get it wet, then slip it up your ass. Push your finger right in. Yeah, like that. You dirty bitch. Get over here.”

She glanced at the bedroom door, then at him again. He was holding out his hand for her to go to him. She wanted to escape, but she knew she would never make it out that door. She reluctantly climbed onto the bed. He grabbed her arm and she sat on his belly.

“Take my cock into your pussy,” he said. “Do it yourself.”

She reached down and put its head between the lips of her cunt, and sitting down forced it up. She slowly felt herself sink onto the full length of his dick. He sighed deeply, massaging her thighs.

She had a little extra fat on her upper thighs, which he seemed to love to grab and squeeze. If she had been with a man she was attracted to she would have been embarrassed, but she was dead with him.

“Put your hands up and tussle your hair, whip it back and forth,” he said.

She reached up, her breasts lifting, and gave him what he wanted. She shook her hair, and whipped it back and forth. She was careful with her bandaged hand. Only her fingertips had been spared from the burning.

“That’s so sexy baby, that’s so sexy,” he said. “Touch your breasts, squeeze and roll them around. Give em’ a few slaps. Lick your tits for me.”

He was starting to rock himself inside her. He held her waist pushing his hips up, his dick gouging deep inside her. Then he relaxed again, panting. His eyes were deep brown and strangely vacant.

“Pump yourself up and down on me,” he said.

She jogged herself up and down, her breasts bouncing slightly. He touched them lightly letting them bounce against his hands.

“Yeah,” he sighed. Then he made her slowly grind herself deeply backwards and forwards. “What’s something dirty you’ve done, that no one knows about?”

The question was unexpected and confronted her, but she wanted to indulge him and make him think she was getting into him.

“Um . . . Someone gave me a vibrator as a gift—”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” she said hesitatingly. She hadn’t wanted to bring him into it. “I was home by myself once—my parents had gone out. I decided to get it out and try it. I was too scared to use it at first, because I’d only had sex a couple of times, and I thought it would be harder and more violent than my boyfriend’s dick. But I was really missing him, so I got olive oil from the kitchen and put it all over it to make it slippery.”

“Did you baby?” he said. “And how did you use it?”

“It was a smooth insertable vibrator, so I carefully put it inside me and moved it to different areas to see what the sensations were like, and to see which I liked best.”

“What way did you like it best?” he asked. He sounded drugged.

“I liked to place the tip against my clit, then slide the shaft down between my pussy lips, and insert the vibrator inside, and then bring it back up in a reverse stroke, sliding along my clit again on the way up. I kept doing that slowly, over and over, and let my orgasm build intensely. If it brought me to the point too quickly, I backed it off and tried less intense stimulation, or sometimes I turned it off and used my hand. I like to build slowly.”

“Did you try and put it up your ass?” he asked.

“Not successfully.”

“Not successfully? It hurt a little bit?”

“I was just scared.”

“Do you still have that vibrator?”

“Not any more.”

“Maybe I should get you another one,” he said. “You’re so hot, baby. Keep moving on me.” He parked his hands on her waist, at the top of her hips, and let her do the work. He was using his hands to indicate how he wanted her to move, the pace he wanted, as if guiding her in the art of fucking.

She was silent and her eyes were shut tight as she applied herself to the task. When she opened them again, he was already looking at her. His mouth was open. He seemed almost delirious with pleasure, especially because she was providing her own friction to his embedded cock.

“What are you doing to me, Nicole?” he asked, breathlessly. She didn’t understand the question and stayed silent. “What’s my prick doing in your cunt?” he said.

“Fucking me,” she said.

“And what are you doing to me?”

“I’m fucking you.”

He sat up and clasped her in his arms. “Yeah, Nicole. Fuck me.” He held her closely, looking down at where their bellies and pelvic areas were joined and grinding. He kissed her lazily, toying with her tongue, hopelessly desirous.

He pushed his face into her neck, and with his fingertips felt the softness of her blonde tresses. He tucked a strand behind her ear, looking intently at her lips. He slowed down, holding her with one arm around her waist. She tried not to make direct eye contact, but he held her face, wanting her to look. “My whole life is fucked,” he said. “This is the only thing that works for me, getting inside you. I’ll always take care of you, baby. Always. Say you want me, tell me.”

He held her like he was rocking a baby.

“I want you,” she said, hiding herself against him. “I want you, I want you, I want you.”

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t let go for a long time after he came. He lay back and she was on his chest, clasped against him.

“You got into it a little bit more this time, didn’t you?” he said. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. It was good.” When he was gentle like this, she almost had compassion for him.

“Which part did you like the best?” he asked.

“I like being on top,” she said, becoming a little restless. He let her get off him, and she lay on her stomach. He ran his fingers over her naked back.

They were silent for some time.

He crept closer to her, and brushed his lips against her. “Are you still cut up about that phone call with your old boyfriend?” he asked.

“Not much,” she whispered. “We didn’t get to see each other anyway.” She closed her eyes to hold back the tears.

“You’ll get over it,” he said. “When my wife took my daughter, it messed me up. Hey . . . ” He rubbed her back. “You hungry?”

“Yeah.”

He took her downstairs to the cluttered kitchen. It had plain, whitewashed walls, and was piled with dirty dishes. He made her some crackers with butter. He lifted her up onto the counter and stood between her legs. She took a small bite of a cracker, and glanced out the narrow window above the sink. It was completely dark outside, she couldn’t see a thing. He caressed her hair and touched her face and legs while they ate. He didn’t leave her alone for a second. He lifted her bandaged hand to his lips and softly kissed her fingertips.

“You’re not like the other girls,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Something about the way he said that, made her feel very scared about what happened to the other girls. He lifted her down from the bench.

“You should get to bed,” he said. “I’ve got some things I’ve got to do.”

She looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 9:00pm. He took her into the lounge. He unwrapped the chain from the beam, but he didn’t put it on her. He took her back upstairs to his bedroom with the chain. He attached it to the head of the bed.

“I want you to stay up here with me.”

“You don’t have to chain me up,” she said humbly, as he began to put it around her wrist. “I can make breakfast for us in the morning, before you wake up. Please?”

“I wouldn’t even try,” he said. He gave her a little kiss, followed by a tap on the cheek. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“What do you mean I shouldn’t even try?”

“You can bat your eyelids and speak all sweet, but I’m not letting you off that chain, until I can trust you. I’ll know before you when that time comes.”

He closed the door, and she sat in the dark room. She listened and waited to see if he was coming back. Then she got up and quickly investigated the chain to see if there was any way to get out of it. She tugged and pulled and fiddled. It was a heavy bed but she pulled so hard she moved it slightly and it grated along the floorboards. She caught her breath in fear that he may have heard. She waited in terror. But he didn’t come.

She tried to retrieve her white dress on the floor, but it was just out of reach. She crawled into bed and put the covers over herself. The blanket, the sheets, the pillows, everything smelled of him. She couldn’t get away from him. Especially now that she had earned the dubious honour of sharing his bed. She would have to keep coaxing him, until he trusted her enough that she could get away. She had to get out of this. She had to get back to her family, or live long enough that they could find her and take her home.

She thought about the other girls, and wondered where they were, if they were dead, if they were still here somewhere. His words went over and over in her head. She began to cry slowly.

Chapter 9

It was very late when she saw the bedroom door open and he walked in. He didn’t take any care to be quiet or considerate. He even switched the light on for a moment while he fiddled around, then he turned it off again. She felt him get into bed. He lay behind her, and pressed his thighs and belly close to her, putting his arm around her and feeling her warm breast. She moved slightly, but he wanted her to stay in that position. He just lifted her upper thigh, and pushed into her warm pussy. He kept her lying on her side, into him, spoon-fashion, while he slowly poked her in an upwards motion. He only went for a few minutes then was too tired and stopped. But he seemed content to lie with those parts still touching and stayed snug against her, till she felt him falling asleep and he turned over.

 

* * *

 

 

“I like having you with me during the night,” he said the next morning. He was trying to have sex with her.

“I have to pee,” she said.

“You can have some of this first.”

“Don’t! I have to get up,” she said more firmly than she had thought possible with him, and pushed against his shoulders.

BOOK: Pretty When She Cries
10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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