I ignored her as I leaned back against her thighs and scooped up some ice cubes from the bucket. I turned back to her and found those pretty eyes of hers. “Remember that you’re in a concrete room with no heat,” I said as I held the ice cube above the hollow of her throat. “Lose too much heat and you might go into shock.” I wondered what kind of drunk she would be. I hoped a truthteller. It would make our next session far easier if I had the information I wanted.
She inhaled sharply as drips of the icy water hit her skin, and she struggled to adjust herself, to get away.
But she was firmly trapped under me, sitting in that water while I lowered the cubes to her skin.
I placed one in the hollow of her throat, just beside the pawn, shoved several into her bra, and finally scooped up a handful more, setting them right below her ribs, in the center of her stomach.
She inhaled sharply, panting as her body arched against the pain of it, those ice cubes sliding towards my cock.
I pushed her back down into the cold water, readjusting the ice, feeling her thighs clench behind me, her hips shift under me, my cock throbbing.
My eyes narrowed as I watched her, anger growing. Her eyes were filled with drunken panic, but her body was reacting as if she craved something like this.
This exactly.
I knew it was possible, someone being that fucked in the mind to crave torture to get off. To crave pain, but I never thought I’d fine a girl so depraved that she was turned on by her kidnapper. For all she knew, I was going to kill her in a matter of days, yet here she was, pupils dilated, breathing hitched, body trembling, not just in fear, but in lust as well.
Any lesser man, any other kidnapper, might have taken advantage of that. Of her perky little tits and her glistening, needful cunt. She was lucky I wasn’t a lesser man, not unless I needed to be.
“Why did you become a writer?” I demanded. I didn’t need the information, but perhaps her little books weren’t as fictitious as she claimed them to be.
She jerked and tried to buck me off, but when all she was met with was a wall of muscle, she barked a scream and fell back into the concrete, the ice water soaking into her hair, taking strands of it as it drifted above her. “Because it’s real,” she said coldly, not a stutter in sight. She might have been too angry to feel the chill in her bones now, too drunk.
My eyes narrowed. It shouldn’t have been that easy to get her to admit that. Maybe she was more drunk than I thought. “Real?” I bit. “Thisis real,” I said, pressing my hand deeper into her stomach, the ice melting between my palm and her skin. “Your books are delusions.”
“Thestoryis a delusion,” she said back, every heave of her breath causing her chest to swell, water slowly trickling downher neck, the ice in her bra melting, resoaking the fabric.
She was glistening.
“The main plot is a delusion,” she went on, her words slurred, but her thoughts clear. “All anyone ever cares about is the main story, but there is so much more that goes into the stories than just that. We put just as much work and effort into the background as we do the foreground, yet nobody pays attention. They all read, but they don’tsee.”
That sounded eerily similar to something Azrael was always going on about.“The truth is right in front of you, but you look over it so easily because it’s not apparent. Blindness was a weakness of us all, now it is just a weakness of everyone else but me.”
I leaned forward, my hand slipping towards her hips where I sat.
Her pupils widened, her eyes flicking down and back as her hips involuntarily lifted.
I ignored it. “So, you’re running away deep into your own mind? Leaving Denver wasn’t far enough to get away from your precious privilege, you had to make up worlds too? Imperfect worlds filled with death and darkness,murder. That’s what you ran too? Death?”
She struggled, panic finally filling those eyes of hers. “Getoff me!” she screamed.
Too close to the truth then.
I sat back on her hips and watched her eyes flutter, her muscles straining. I knew that look all too well.
My cock throbbed painfully, my fingers digging into the soft skin right below me, the ice now gone. “You’re just a cash princess,” I told her, watching her chest cave in, feeling her thighs clench, her hips move. “Your perfect life was too fucking perfect, so you sought out the dark and depraved.”
She panted, the panic shifting to fear as her neck arched for asecond before she looked back to me, tears filling her eyes. “Get off,” she begged. “Please.”
My heart thundered, the anger in me growing along with something else. An instinct of sorts.
I found myself moving my hand under me, pressing the heel of it down right above her pussy, the edge of her underwear grazing my skin. I lowered myself back onto my hand, watching as her mouth opened, the ice water from her bra flowing to her neck, pooling in the hollow of her throat, her neck arching.
Fuck, she was going to cum.
My lips parted, my own breathing getting heavier as I watched her body tense, watched her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pulse racing—
The sound of my phone blasted through the room, ripping me from my own delusion.
