“Look.” He gestured at pure blue sky and sea. Miles away, clouds sullied the perfection. “I want to be out there. You stopped me. You.”
Out where? On the sea?
I’d gone from talisman to what? Ballast? Yards below, the tide slopped back and forth, froth sailing past on small eddies and waves. I could see another deck down there. If I jumped, I could swim away.
He swung me, turned me, until my back hit the railing. I was a doll, forced by will and muscle into position – on my knees with my arms to either side, as if I were crucified. Carefully he tangled me in rope and steel. He roped my throat. I coughed at the pressure, though the rope did no more than lie across the front of my neck.
Wriggling, I found my fingers liked the feel of the steel cable.
“Fucking stay.”
His words were harsh yet his tone was calm, as if he contemplated whether the lawn needed mowing.
He stalked up and down, slowly, looking at the predicament he’d placed me in. At times, he kneeled and brushed his hands across my breasts, stirred my nipples, or ran his hand between my legs. The sounds when he deigned to penetrate me...
My eyelids threatened to shut until he commanded them open.
“So very wet.” When he smiled, all I saw was his mouth.
Whispers... He whispered to my neck, things I could not understand. Eyes widening, I stayed quiet and still, finding myself growing ever more aroused.
Questions began. Small questions, or they seemed small.
“Why are you here?”
“To kill you.”
“Why?”
“You ruined my life.”
“Will anyone miss you, search for you?”
“Yes. I used the database search function illegally.”
“Your employer will look for you? The CIA?”
Hadn’t he asked this?
“Yes.”
My eyes stayed wide. I couldn’t blink, so fascinated was I by his movements back and forth.
“How long before they find you?”
“About seven days minimum. They may take longer. I covered my tracks.”
“Good. You can blink now.” He paused before me then walked back into the bedroom.
He returned with a handful of leather and chain, used a leather collar in place of the rope, clicked the end of the leash to the wire.
“Open your mouth.” Slow, I was slow, my brain like sludge. He tapped my cheek with a few fingers until I opened.
Hands on the railing to either side, he looked down. I breathed in time with him, eyes at half-mast, feeling sated. His thoughts fucked me.
“You look good, Red. Beautiful. My monster likes you.” He leaned down to kiss me, mouth as possessive as the bondage, his tongue going deep. “I need to feed it or it gets angry. Forgive me, won’t you?”
How casually the syllables of forgiveness rolled from his tongue.
I nodded, blinked.
His thick fingers probed my mouth, thrusting inside, moving along my tongue. He spread saliva over my lips then kissed me roughly, sucking out thoughts, soul, maybe my heart, for I felt it thrashing in my chest.
His thumbs hooked into the corners of my lips and stretched my cheeks aside until my mouth felt as if it might split. “I’ve got you now. No thoughts of killing me? Shake your head.”
I shook it slowly, a clown at a fair, waiting for someone to roll a ball into my opening.
Then he unzipped and stuck his cock in my mouth, fucked me there against the wire, with the steel strands pressing into my shoulders, cold on my skin, his cock warm in my mouth.
His grunts and final groan echoed the gush of cum. I swallowed some, the rest dribbled and splashed onto my chest. Then he kissed me again, crushing my lips.
“Next time you can come. Now my monster is happy. And my cum makes you mine again, doesn’t it?”
I licked my lips, tasted remnants of him. “Yes.” It was true; I could sense a deeper resonance with this powerful being. He had a monster or he was a monster?
When he released me from my impromptu bondage, I fell to hands and knees, watching a string of drool spill.
I surfaced from the absentminded stupor and rolled to my back. I saw white sailcloth. He’d fucked my mouth and somehow hypnotized me beyond what he had before. Guess he’d practiced some, since Cuba.
Leave me here. I’ll slink beneath the wire and be gone, into the waves, splash into the depths.
His fingers hooked at the collar, dragged me on my back some inches across the boards; his knuckles on my neck shocked my body.
“On your knees. Follow.”
The leash jangled. Though more aware than I had been, I crawled after the swinging line of metal. The deck hurt my knees.
Think.
Becoming a zombie was not good for my health. It seemed I had little time to get out of here before my mind succumbed.
CHAPTER 5
What to do with her? The question never ran away. If she stayed I would end up fucking her properly and somehow I knew...felt that would mean something more than what I had so far.
Maim her, kill her, keep her. Letting Vitor ass-fuck her wouldn’t maim her. Amuse me? Yes, to start with. Seeing her get turned on by his dick in her, I’d had the urge to take her myself. A little too possessive an urge for me to feel comfortable about obeying it.
The mesmer infection liked to make me do things to them and I fucking hated lack of control.
Limiting myself worked.
I led her into the bathroom and showered her, detaching the head and playing the water over her, washing off all my cum,
