Obsessed Love by MINK
4
Lovett
Iopen my mouth each time he brings a bite of food to it. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten something so decadent. Every time my tongue comes out to swipe across my bottom lip, his attention goes there, and a flare of need shows in his eyes.
He manages to control himself, though. He hasn't made another move to touch me except for when his fingers find a way to brush my face when he brings the food to my mouth.
“Please. I can’t eat anymore,” I say when he starts to spread cheese on another cracker. I can tell he doesn't want to stop feeding me, but he does.
I watch as he finishes spreading the cheese and brings the scrumptious bite to his own mouth this time. He stopped taking bites for himself when I’d given in and let him feed me. He’d become more interested in me eating than himself.
“You’ve been a good girl.” He rises from the bed, taking the tray with him. His comment has me reluctantly squeezing my thighs together.
I can’t help the humorless laugh that comes from me at his words. Even if a part of me enjoyed his praise, I know it doesn't matter. Being good never gets you anywhere in life. If anyone is starting to realize that, it’s me.
“Yeah, obviously being a good girl has gotten me real far,” I say sarcastically while pulling at the cuffs around my wrists. I turn my head to stare at the restraints that are supposed to be my own.
“You haven't been a good girl for the right person then.” He comes to stand at the end of the bed.
Another humorless laugh comes from me. “Let me guess. You want me to be your good girl?” I roll my eyes, even though the thought of doing so turns me on. “Is this because I’m a cop or something? Is that why you’re doing this?” I pull at the cuffs, but all it does is make them dig into my skin more. A reminder that I’m not going anywhere.
“Knock it off. You’re going to hurt yourself.” His expression turns to that cold, serious one that he gets when he means business. I stare back at him.
He doesn't want me to hurt myself. What am I, his favorite pet or something? It dawns on me that Bruno is alone. Without thinking, I pull on the cuffs again.
“I’m not your pet,” I say, my eyes going to the door.
“I warned you,” he says. I don’t even see him move. In the blink of an eye, he’s on top of me. How someone so big can move so fast I’ll never know.
That need I’ve been fighting bursts free as fast as he moved. A moan pours out of my mouth before I can stop it. I lift my hips, pressing my sex right into his cock that’s still hard, my body betraying me.
“You’re going to make me do something I’ll regret.” His voice sounds rough this time, as though he’s hanging on to his control by a thread. I should be scared, but I’m anything but.
“Do you regret much?” I breathe out, fighting to maintain my own control, when all I want to do is wrap my legs around him and rub against him like a cat in heat. I’m so close to coming it’s embarrassing. He will probably laugh at me when he realizes he’s caught himself a virgin.
“I had regretted plenty,” he grits out. This time it’s him that thrusts against me, his cock pressing down right where I need him most.
“Bruno.” I whisper his name. “Had? What’s changed?” I try to stay focused on the conversation and ignore the intense throb between my legs.
I try to remember what they said about being kidnapped. I believe it is that you need to humanize yourself. Talk to your captive so that they see you as a person and not some object.
Another wave of lust flows through me at the word captive. I pull on the cuffs again, unable to help myself. The burn of them against my skin reminds me that right now I’m his to do what he wants with.
“Those two years might be worth it to get to have you.”
I’m done. It’s all too much. My body and mind are on sensation overload. Every deep, dark fantasy I’ve ever had explodes out of me. I wrap my legs around him and take what I want. He took me, after all. It only makes sense for me to take him right back.
“Oh, God,” I cry out as I grind myself against his cock, finding my own pleasure. I can hear him say my name before his teeth sink into my neck. He presses down against me, giving me exactly what I need him to.
I don’t know if I have another orgasm or the first one keeps going at the small bite of pain he gives me before he’s sucking my skin into his mouth. His body jerks against mine as more of his weight presses down on me. He groans into my neck.
I’m not sure, but I think he might have come with me. The room grows quiet except for the sounds of our heavy breathing. As the pleasure starts to fade away, the reality of what I’ve done comes crashing down. A wave of shame fills me.
I pull on the cuffs again. “Please,” I beg. “Take them off.”
He lifts his head. “You’re crying.” His expression is pained.
“Take them off!” I scream in his face.
To my surprise, he springs up and quickly frees the cuffs from my wrists. His fingers try to trace over my wrists to inspect them, but I jerk them back. I’m not stupid. I know it’s not because I’m quick, but because he let me.
“Can I use the bathroom please?”
“Of course.” He motions for the door. I try to scurry off the bed, but when I stand, my knees start to give out. He catches me before I hit the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says as he rights me on my feet before dropping his arm from around me.
I don’t respond as I make a dash for the bathroom. Once inside, I lock the door behind me. It’s stupid. I know one kick from him is all it would take to open it.
“It didn’t matter if you were a cop or a fucking astronaut. All that matters is you’re mine,” Bruno says through the door. “And I know you’re not my pet. You’re so much more.” There is no missing the awe in his voice.
What is happening here? At times I feel so out of control and then at others I wonder if I do have some control. He confuses me, but maybe that’s what he wants: to toy with me before he shows me who he really is. That sends a shiver through me. I have to be smart. No more temporary insanity in his bed. This is a life or death situation, not a teenage basement party.
“Bruno?”
“Yes.”
“My cat Pikachu. Will you get him for me? He’s alone, and I’m worried about him.”
“Your cat?” He says the word ‘cat’ like he’s never used it before.
“Yes, he’s alone. There’s no one to feed him but me.”
“I’ll get him, but you’ll owe me a favor.”
I glare at the door even though he can’t see me. “Fine,” I huff while having the strange feeling he’s smiling right now.
It’s silly for him to want me to owe him a favor. He can take whatever he wants from me, but I’m starting to understand he wants me to give it to him. Maybe that’s his game.
Why does that scare me even more?