Kidnapped

Chapter 18 - a Gift

“Lay down,” he commands, his voice steady, almost detached, as he gestures toward the mattress. His other hand moves down, rubbing himself through his boxers with an unsettling calmness. A violent shiver runs through me, and I instinctively shake my head, whispering a desperate, “No…” But he just tilts his head, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His free hand reaches out, fingers curling around my throat—not squeezing, just resting there like a dark promise, a warning. He leans closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper, the words slipping into my ear. “Just do it.”

My body trembles under his touch, the cold press of his fingers a constant reminder of his control. Slowly, I move my legs out from underneath me, shifting to lie down beside him on the rough mattress. My hands instinctively move down to cover myself, my skin prickling as I curl in, trying to shield my bare form from his gaze. But he isn’t finished—his hand slips from my throat, gliding down to my wrist, raw and tender from the cuffs. His grip tightens, jerking my hand away, exposing me fully to his view. His eyes darken, drinking in the sight of me, lingering over every inch as if savoring a twisted victory.

Then, his fingers find the hem of my tank top, brushing against my skin as he inches it up, taking his time, every movement painfully slow. A surge of panic rises within me, and I instinctively reach up, hands trembling as they press against his, a weak attempt to halt his movements. His hands pause, his gaze meeting mine, and for a brief, fleeting moment, something flickers in his eyes—hesitation, as if he’s caught off guard, almost… uncertain.

But the moment passes as quickly as it came. His mouth twists into a subtle, unreadable expression, and his grip strengthens, his hands easily overpowering mine. With an almost resigned determination, he continues lifting my shirt, ignoring the tremble in my hands, my silent plea.

Overwhelmed, the fear and sorrow welling up inside me spill over, and I begin to cry, soft sobs wracking my chest. My breathing becomes uneven, each pathetic sound escaping me like a broken plea. He pauses again, his hand still as his gaze flickers over my face, searching, caught between his desire and something darker, something that seems to pull him back, almost against his will. The hesitation lingers, stretching thinly between us, as if he’s surprised by his own restraint.

“Please…” I whisper, my voice trembling, the word barely escaping me. Embarrassment mingles with fear, coloring my cheeks, but it seems to draw something from him—a response he wasn’t expecting. His eyes narrow, and I watch as his jaw tightens, a subtle muscle twitching as he wrestles with himself. Then, slowly, he lifts my shirt, revealing the lace edges of my bra, his fingers brushing against my skin with a gentleness that’s almost unsettling. He lets out a low, satisfied sound, though something in his expression betrays a strange, conflicted intensity.

He leans down, his lips pressing to the slight curve of my chest, the touch both possessive and eerily soft. His free hand moves to cup my bra, fingers lingering as if savoring the moment, before he tugs it down, excruciatingly slow, exposing my small, bare breast. Each inch feels deliberate, intentional, and his gaze never wavers, darkened with both hunger and something hesitant, restrained.

Instinctively, I throw my hands up to cover my eyes, as if hiding from the humiliation washing over me. But even through the haze of fear, I can sense his movements faltering, his grip shifting, his breath a touch slower, almost… careful.

My chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths, each inhale shaky as his gaze fixes on me, intent and unblinking. A low, appreciative sound escapes him, resonating through the quiet. His head dips slightly, and he brings his mouth close, close enough that I can feel the soft warmth of his breath against my skin. Then he exhales, slowly, deliberately, over my bare breast. The air is cool, making me shiver, and beneath his breath, I feel my skin tighten, my nipple hardening against the chill.