Sydney

In the bathroom mirror, I glanced at myself. I'd showered and changed my clothes. I had stayed inside for as long as I could because I was frightened to go outside. I'd ran out of reasons, so if he'd given me another second to explain, I'd have told him I was still terrified - which could or might not have helped. What difference did it make? A knock jolted me out of my trance.

"Are you going to spend the night inside?" Through the heavy door, his voice came in.

That was a good idea, but I couldn't carry it out. If it had come to that, he would have ripped the door apart. I pulled my robe tighter about myself and pushed open the door. His fingers wrapped themselves around my arm without warning. He used it to pin me against the wall next to the door, vice-like. My body stiffened instantly, and I took a deep, mindful inhale. As he bent over me, his grip was tight, but it remained the silent threat that it was. Despite this, his hand felt hot and suffocating above the fabric.

He whispered into my ear, "So you want to play this game?" He sounded almost mischievous, but not in the pleasant, benign way he had been all afternoon.

"I am not playing," I managed, l to croak.

He narrowed his eyes.

"It appears that you are prone to finding insult where none exists. You should recognise that it's not always about you." I said.

He looked amused, "I disagree," he returned. "It is about me. Everything you do is about me now, if I so wish it. You know why?"

His other hand lifted and stroked my hair, mimicking a lover's caressing motion.

 "Because, Sydney, you're mine now." He moved his lips to my jaw as if to emphasise his point, then crushed a scorching kiss on my lips. "Every little bit of you."

If my heart had been thudding before, it was now thundering so loudly that I couldn't believe he hadn't heard it.

"And you know, Sydney," he said, "I don't think you're as bothered by this as you claim." His grin widened, becoming more evil, perhaps even naughty. "I've noticed how you stare at me on occasion. Isn't there a part of you that desires this? Wants me to take you and make you mine?"

He'd noticed, of course. Some part of me had hoped against hope that he wouldn't, but he did. I tried everything I could to keep from flushing, but it was futile. At the very least, he admitted that my attraction was minor. If I willed it, it would be small enough to suffocate between two fingertips like a fading spark. Unfortunately, it was barely more than a smouldering fire right now. I was being distracted by his eye contact. His wandering fingers tickled and scorched my skin, as did the one at my throat.

"That's not the case - "

He deprived me of denial, by way of abruptly tightening his grip on my throat, and I fought panicked gasps at the same time. "Hmm, what's that?" he asked, tilting his head as if attempting to hear more properly. A cruel little smile flitted across his lips, and his fingers constricted further, ever so slightly. "No?"
He was careful, though. Oddly, even in this state, that hold had not tightened to the point of hurting me.


"Look at me," he said sharply.



My eyes sprung open, and I peered up into his own blue. He didn't say anything, just stood there watching me, letting me feel his palm on my neck and the weight of his might. I'd always felt powerless in his presence, but never quite like this. Despite how repulsive the sensation was, there was something curiously seductive about it, something thrilling about both its intimacy and its risk. What am I thinking, exactly? Finally, he said.

 "Okay, when I let go, you'll cooperate, right?" His free hand continued to tinker with my hair before moving down and smoothly running one finger across my collarbone.
I cinched the flap of my robe shut even tighter. He got out of my throat. "I'm not prepared..." I let out a squeak.

He muttered, "You will be." His sneer had returned to his lips. "Soon."

I didn't notice when the back of my leg collided with the bed and I sat down on it. He made a playful "tsk" noise and yanked my knees apart, causing my body to take on an odd form. This elicited a small gasp, but it was nothing compared to his next transgression: he allowed his fingers to move up my leg, up and past my thigh, and then down again, massaging and kneading the entire time. I shuddered as he paused at that erogenous place at the back of my knee, watching helplessly as he lowered his mouth and trailed kisses along a similar path.

"What you're doing?" Why was he going to such lengths to avoid imposing himself forcibly on me? That's exactly what I was hoping for.

He said, "Of course, I'm attending to my wife," with a smile that was far too innocent to be genuine. With a sparkle in his eyes, his lips and tongue worked expertly to tease and delight me. "You don't like it?"

This was a gentler form of torture than the absolute violence I had anticipated. He was already breaking my willpower, little by little. Out of frustration, I slammed my head into the sheets.

"This isn't enjoyment - this is anything but enjoyment, I would enjoy if we could - wait."

"I've had enough of waiting." He withdrew just to take off his t-shirt carelessly. His muscles were more defined in the dim light, and his lean strength was more apparent - the sight almost made me catch my breath. I realised I'd never seen him without his shirt before. The view was breathtaking. I slipped away from him and moved to the other side of the bed in a panic. He smiled as he lay on the bed, his head resting on his elbow.

"If you keep this up, I'll have to bind you," he said.

He drew me back with his hand on my ankle. Climbing up my waist and straddle it. He took my hand in his and brushed his lips over my knuckles in an impersonation of a chaste hello, his smile growing mischievously as his interest grew. His eyes were on me at all times as he brought each finger to his lips and suckled softly and enticingly.

"Or would rope just...excite you even more?" He smirked as he spoke.

 "Rope? Why would that pique my interest?" I was taken aback and inquired.

My arm received the same indulgent treatment, and when he got to my shoulder, he moved aside the flap of my robe and sank his mouth to the tender place where the neck met the shoulder. He kissed and suckled with the same intensity there. My resistance began to crumble again at this point, sending a jolt down my spine. Within his unyielding grasp, my wrists twitched like a frightened animal, wanting to fly down and conceal my crimson face. To my relief, he moved away from my neck, though something in his eyes told me he was well aware of it - and would undoubtedly exploit it.

"Restraint, it's been said, brings a certain kind of excitement and the knowledge that another has such power over you as to take you for his pleasure...however he wishes."

I attempted to ignore the words, which both titillated and humiliated me. But, of course, his mouth was at my neck again, and he was now slicing gentle nibbles into my skin.

I shouted out between barely repressed whimpers, "I don't enjoy such thrills."

"Good," was the mischievous answer.

He moved down, still taking all the time in the world, the stubble on his chin offering a tickling scratch. He loosened my belt, and pushed aside my robe, further and further, until it left my chest. At once. I instinctively tried to cover myself. My wrists were regained by his hand, which pinned them above my head.
When I inhaled sharply, he trailed his fingers over one breast, then the other, caressing them with the same slow, deliberate attention, and concluding with a playful squeeze and frank grin. If I wasn't so sensitive to his touch, it would be so much easier. He was clearly aware of how I squirmed and writhed beneath him, as evidenced by his self-satisfied smile.

"Impatient." His breath fell hot across my skin as he dropped his mouth to my breasts, replacing the ministrations of his hands. "You don't have to disguise your passion. It's quite normal."

Even his taunts couldn't stop his tongue from spinning in pleasure.

"Please...." As his teeth lightly clamped around my breast, tugging just enough to evoke a threshold of discomfort - and greater arousal - I was cut off.

"Please stop.... this isn't what I want."

He drew back and chuckled.

He stroked down, across the line of my hips, saying, "Oh, but it's what you want." His stare lingered on my chest's rise and fall. "Even to yourself, that should be evident."