Page 49 of Brutal Captivity

“You inside of me. I—I don’t want to be so lonely anymore,” I admit, whispering the last part of the confession like I would a sin. Except Leo isn’t a priest. He’s the opposite of a holy man, yet I find myself confessing my deepest secrets to him.

I try to blink away my tears, but one slips down my cheek. I’m so tired of always being alone, not having a place in the world or people who love me. He would never judge me, though, because he feels the same way. He asked me to stay for a reason. So maybe we can be lonely together for the night. Maybe the isolation that has settled itself deep within my being will be chased away, even if only briefly.

Leo's expression is unreadable, and I wish I could take the confession back as the tear falls down onto the pillow. He probably thinks I am so stupid for being lonely. I could literally buy friends if I needed to, but I have never wanted that. I want people to like me for who I am, not the wealth that comes along with me.

Leo stares down at me, his eyes wide and unblinking. I am completely uncovered beneath his gaze, a sculpture being studied. I never considered the idea that he could like me as a person. At first, it was obvious that he hated me, and I felt the same about him. Opinions seem to change, and for some reason, I hope he genuinely likes me. I don't want him to see me as a spoiled brat anymore.

“I know you feel like you’ve been alone for a while. It’s okay. You don’t have to be alone. I can’t promise forever, but I can promise you the night.” Leo uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away the residue from the tear. He then leans down to kiss me softly on the lips.

I am relieved. I had some strange fear that Leo was going to tell me to leave because of my admission and the sadness that came with it. I sometimes feel like I’m not allowed to be sad because I have everything I need. That I shouldn’t feel lonely when I am surrounded by things, but that’s simply not true. Leo's answer and the gentle way that he kisses me make me feel validated.

I deepen the kiss, pouring my emotions and desperation into it. His hands find their way to my underwear, smoothly slipping them off under the sheets. Without breaking our hungry kisses, he reaches into the bedside table. I moan into the kiss at the sight of the condoms and lube in his hand.My cock is hard, and I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. He breaks our kiss, looking down at me in a silent question.

“Please,” I whimper, and I don't know what I’m saying. It is definitely an answer to his silent question, but it feels like so much more. Maybe I am asking for the night or…. perhaps longer.

twenty-three

“Then that’s what the monster wants. He wants to be human.”- Leo

“Okay.It’salright.I’lltake care of you, Princess,” I murmur, looking down at Callisto’s shiny green eyes. He is lonely. I am too, so maybe we aren't that different after all. Callisto looks perfect in the soft light, his dark curls contrasting beautifully with the white pillow. His lips are red, as if he’s been chewing on them, or perhaps it’s from my kisses. I lean down to kiss him again because I can’t stop myself.

“It’s been a while.” Callisto’s cheeks flare red when I bring the lube and condom closer. A nervous flutter erupts in my stomach and bleeds into my chest, making my heart beat rapidly, as if I’ve never done this before. I don’t want to fuck this up. I have put him through enough, and I want to make this good for him. I want to give Callisto at least one good thing to remember me by before I’m gone, and I have to disappear.

“Okay. I’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts or you change your mind, and I’ll stop,” I promise, uncapping the bottle, the clicking sound echoing throughout the otherwise quiet room. I may not be sure of anything else right now, but I’m sure I can please Callisto.

I squeeze some lube onto my fingers, gliding it around a bit to warm it up. I move the duvet with my clean hand, looking down to find Callisto placing a pillow under his hips, spreading his long legs. A mark on one of his tan thighs catches my attention, sending my eyebrows straight to my hairline.

“Has the princess been hiding artwork from me?”

“What?” Callisto asks, confusion marring his beautiful features. I nod toward his thigh, a smirk pulling at my lips. Callisto looks down, eyes widening a few seconds later.

“Oh. Umm… yeah. I sometimes forget I have it. I got that while I was in Brazil visiting my grandfather's homeland. I may have also been a little drunk.” The explanation is sheepish, and his cheeks grow even redder. I trace the letters of the tattoo. I would have never thought Callisto, pretty-proper-princess-Callisto, would have a secret tattoo. It makes my dick twitch.

“I like it.” I stroke a thumb over the word. While Callisto is distracted by the conversation, I choose that moment to trace his puckered hole with a lubed up finger. Callisto’s eyes widen in surprise, and I would laugh if I didn’t find the man so incredibly sexy.

After the initial shock from the unexpected touch, Callisto’s pouty lips form a small ‘o’. He hasn’t voiced anything negative, so I keep going. Getting the area nice and wet before I press a finger in. I look up, wanting to see his reaction.

“Oh fu…” the curse word trails off on his red bitten lips. I have never heard him curse, and it is now my goal to have him forget himself so completely that he does. I want to watch prim and proper Callisto come undone on my dick.

“Relax, Princess,” I say softly, pushing my finger the rest of the way in. I bend down, kissing Callisto gently on the lips. His mouth is open but quickly shifts to receive my kiss, returning it after a brief moment. I am careful to avoid touching his dick, not wanting him to come too soon. He hisses when my dick grazes his own, and I barely bite back a moan. It’s been a long time for me as well.

“Another,” Callisto moans out after a few minutes. I give him a look, a silent question. He nods, mouth open in bliss. I look down, carefully, adding another, stretching his hole.

When Callisto hisses, I stop for a second, looking up to gauge his level of pain. He’s looking up at the ceiling, his strong jaw pointed towards the heavens, but I can tell his mouth is open, even from this angle. Noticing I had stopped, Callisto’s eyes find mine, confused. He grinds his hips down, pressing the heels of his feet into the mattress as leverage to search for more.

“Fuck, Callisto. You look so fucking hot grinding on my fingers,” I mumble, more to myself than to anyone, but Callisto obviously heard it because he whimpers, pushing his hips down further to get me in deeper. I watch, keeping my arm completely still, wanting him to work for it, and he does.

“Can’t wait to see you grinding on my dick, Princess.” Every time I use the term of endearment, Callisto moans or whimpers in response. I’m going to miss these moans when he’s gone. When he’s out of my life and back in his own. Where he belongs.

“Leone. Need. Please.Bisogno,” Callisto whines in half Italian, half broken English. Without breaking his rhythm, I scissor my fingers, adding more lube in the process.

Once I know he’s ready, I add a third, crooking them experimentally. I know I hit his spot when a deep moan is ripped from his chest, almost animalistic. Watching him moan and writhe on my fingers is an out of body experience. Ididn’t realize Callisto could be this wanton in bed, but I’m learning to not judge a book by its cover or however the saying goes.

“Are you ready for my dick?” I ask after a few minutes, watching my fingers disappear over and over again into his wet heat. I tear my eyes away from his hole long enough to see him nod, his eyes blown and curls sticking up in all different directions.

I kiss him because I can’t think of a single other thing I would rather do at this moment. I kiss him hard, our teeth clacking together. Callisto’s arms loop around my neck, bringing me down on top of him, our dicks pressing together. I can’t stop my hips from bucking into the sensation, my dick throbbing with the needed friction.

“Yes. Fu- yes.Per favore. Need it. Now,” Callisto moans into my open mouth, and I suppress a smile. He almost slipped again, and I find it incredibly sexy. I bet he would have a dirty mouth if he would let himself go a bit, if he’d stop constantly thinking about what he wants to say and what is proper. Sex is about feeling, not about thinking. He shouldn’t censor himself in bed, and I wish he wouldn’t censor himself so much in life. I wonder who Callisto is behind the facade he puts out into the world.