Reciprocity (Closed for Tulips)

[Risen]

(OOC: Please ignore the asterisks in this post. My text editor was being naughty. I'd hate for the error to turn anyone off to the amazing posts of my co-writer.)


Sasha. The name was burned into Miguels mind. Nothing had been the same in his life for the past two months.

He was used to hard work. Scraping and scrapping to make a living never bothered him but lack of excitement sure did. Well those days were over for now. Miguel had new responsibilities and new guilt to keep him focused.

It seemed like yesterday. He was desperate to come up with cash. There was no surviving the Sarcozzi brothers when they had a hit out on you. Even growing up with them didn't forgive 50 grand in debt, but it did buy you one chance, and never a man to run from a challenge, Miguel had taken that chance.*

Miguel wasn't the criminal sort, (with the exception of the occasional street fight or opportunity to have too much fun.) He paused in his footsteps to think for a moment on his way to his occasional morning hang out. "Was it worth it?" he thought. " I don't know." he whispered out loud. A passerby looked at him warily. His large build and grim features gave him an intimidating look. His short messy hair and day old shave just added to the effect. He never had trouble attracting girls with his deep blue eyes and jet black hair, but he wasn't arrogant about it. He was a gentleman at heart. The nice guy who always seemed to finish last.

He reached his destination and sat down at his usual window seat. If she stuck to her routine she'd be by shortly for a cup of coffee or tea. It was odd to be so close to her again. It was so similar to their last encounter in that she was right in front of him but had no idea who he was. At least here she was free.

It had all started those two months ago. The Sarcozzi's had offered him a way to settle his debt by kidnapping a beautiful young lady. Daughter of one of he rich town fathers, they knew he would spare no expense to get her back and they had been right.* As crazy as it had sounded at first, it had all worked out fine for all parties. All but one that is, for it had been hell on Sasha. Her father paid the million dollar ransom, but not as quickly as they had all hoped. Rumor was that he had hired private detectives to find his daughter, offering a million dollar rewqrd to the man that found her, but Miguel wasn't that stupid. He had hidden her well.

After a month he paid the ransom. The Sarcozzi's set up the pay off just as they had set up the entire thing and Miguel had to admit they were good. He stayed holed up in an apartment with Sasha he whole time while they had food delivered. Miguel kept her blindfolded for the entire month. *He wondered how that must have affected her. She talked to him the entire time, first full o hatred, then acceptance and resignation to the fact that Miguel was not going to free her. Once she realized he had no intention of hurting her the conversations turned to normal things any two people might talk about. She was an amazing woman, with nothing in life to worry about until Miguel yanked her into that van. He remembered her pleading. The soft voice that whimpered and cried out to him, and then later turned compassionate. He had ended up enjoying almost every minute of it. She was the picture of beauty in his eyes.

Once the ransom was paid and she had been freed he went on his way debt free and looking for fun. With a quarter million in his pocket he had freedom like he had never known. Tailor made suits and fine dining were things he had only dreamed of. He knew $250,000 dollars really wasn't much, but then there were only so many chances to enjoy life. He was living it up.

It didn't take long before he started wondering if he had hurt this lovely woman. It consumed his thoughts that he had hurt the most amazing creature he had ever known. He used the information the Sarcozzi's had given him and tracked her down. He'd just check up on her once in a while to be sure she was okay.*

Today was one of those days. He'd had to stay away for a while and change up his routine. The last time he sat in this little coffee shop she had smiled at him and said. "Good morning." He had only nodded and smiled back, but it shook him to the core. He had decided not to use his spot again and find other ways to keep track of her, but he liked it on the occasions when she brushed past him. He could smell her perfume and hear her voice again if he was lucky. She had never seen his face. She couldn't recognize him as long as he never said a word.

She was running late this morning and as he watched her approach through the window he could tell she wasn't too worried about it. Why worry when yor father owns half the city. He chuckled quietly knowing that he was fooling himself. This girl could be the end of his life if she caught on to him. This had to be the last time he watched her, but there she was again. He watched her closely, absorbing every movement she made and as she walked into the shop she broke her routine and walked straight toward him. Shocked, he turned his head out of instinct and fear, not realizing that she was simply headed toward the end of the line forming at the coffee shop counter. He pretended to look out the window not wanting to make eye contact.

Then it happened. The old man next to him asked him the time. He couldn't say nothing and look suspicious. He couldn't answer and risk being heard. He paused. The old man kept looking at him. Miguel nearly bolted for the door but decided to play it smart. As softly as he could, he spoke, "Nine o'clock."

Two simple words, yet so much at stake. The old man replied, "Sorry son, I couldn't hear ya'."

"Crap!" Miguel thought. He knew Sasha must have heard him say it, but it was so mundane, so ordinary. She couldn't have paid attention. There was only one way out. He spoke. "It's nine o'clock!"

He paused, holding his breath, hoping the old man wouldn't say another word. Did she hear him? * *

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

In her dreams, he always took her. Sometimes rough, sometimes gentle. Sometimes he teased her and caressed her lovingly until she thought she would explode, other times he ravaged her viciously, or forced her to take him in her mouth. In the dreams, she was able to see him, but his face was always different. He was her father, her uncle, her cousin, the bouncer at the club, every guy she had ever dated, every guy she had ever shot down. Every guy, ever.

Sasha woke up with a start. This time the dream had been particularly unsettling. She had been kneeling in front of him, his hand in her hair. His cock had been inches from her face and she had been absolutely desperate to taste it, to feel it in her mouth, to pleasure him. And that soft, deep voice had told her "Just say it, and you can have it. Tell me you love me, and you can have it."

Her heart was racing as she realized she was alone. She felt her face burning with shame, because to say those words to him, even in a dream, was wrong. She slid her hand under her sweatpants, and touched herself. She was soaked, her lips swollen with need and her clit throbbing. It only took a few seconds to make herself cum.

After she showered and dressed, she looked in the mirror. She had changed in so many small ways since she had been released. Her black hair still fell to her waist, but she never wore it back anymore. She let it fall loose, and tried not to think that it had anything to do with the fact that that whole month, she had only been able to comb it in the dark. She was still short, only 5'2", so she still wore heels, but no more boots. Now she was in little strappy sandals. She wore stylish little dresses still, but her colors had changed from striking primaries to soft, muted shades. This one was a muted rosey pink.

The funny thing was that she had actually lost weight after she had been released. She had almost forgotten how to feed herself in that month, and now she had a reminder programmed into her phone that told her to eat twice a day. She had her full, round figure back, but there was still a certain hollowness, though she couldn't point to anywhere specific.

The first thing she did when she left her condo was to go to her Dad's office. That was the compromise they had made. He had wanted her to move back home, but she had insisted that she needed to get back to her normal life. Besides, she thought, he had waited almost a month before he paid the kidnappers. A million dollars was a lot of cash, but she knew he could have raised it in a few days, in a pinch. Rumor was that he had been trying to catch the guy, but in the mean time, he had left her in the hands of a kidnapper. She was happy he was in a meeting, and his secretary would let him know Sasha had fulfilled her obligation.

The next thing was therapy. She had been in therapy as long as she could remember. Not that there was anything wrong with her really, it was just what everyone did. Since she had been kidnapped, it had gone from weekly to daily, and it was sort of fun. She would say things to make Dr. Barnes think she was repressing some traumatic memory, and then talk about mundane everyday stuff for the rest of the hour, while the Doctor foamed at the mouth.

Sasha didn't pretend she was traumatized by the whole thing, but she had tried to explain that he had been very nice to her. Stockholm Syndrome got tossed around, and repressed memories, and brainwashing, but it hadn't been like that. After the first few days of absolute terror, once she had realized that he wasn't going to rape her or mutilate her, the worst of it was just the boredom. They had shared it, because he had been with her the whole time. She had listened to him pacing around impatiently, and having desperate conversations on the phone in the other room. After a week, he had started talking to her, and at times, it had felt almost normal. Except that she was blindfolded and cuffed to a chair. He had let her use the bathroom on her own, and even shower, and each time she had knocked on the door to be let out he had reminded her. "If you see me, I'll have to kill you. Is the blindfold on?"

After therapy, she went to the shoe store. Dad had bought it for her when she graduated from High School, and it had done very well, even expanding to two new locations. Of course, she had hired the manager that Dad recommended and only went in once a week to sign paychecks and to see if there were any new styles. She was selling the store to the manager now. Three years ago, a shoe store had seemed like a wonderful toy, but she knew that it was like a play job. She knew Dad would be furious that she had sold the stores. She knew what he would say, and she knew he was probably right, that she would never find another business opportunity like that in her life.

They signed the papers and made it official. She was unemployed. She smiled to herself. Unemployed with seven figures in the bank wasn't such a bad thing. She had thought about selling the condo as well, but she would wait until she had figured out where she was going. She thought she might go to college. That would annoy her father immensely, as he had always insisted education was for people too dumb to think for themselves. He had made his money in construction, and while he was very respectable now, she had spent her whole life hearing rumors. The first million is the sleaziest was all he ever said about it. She stopped by her favorite cafe after for a celebratory chai.

"It's nine o'clock."

Her heart was racing again, and suddenly she could hardly breathe. She froze, and closed her eyes, just for a moment. He wasn't going to kill her in line at a coffee shop. When she opened her eyes, she looked around her. There were eyes on her, and she realized she had gasped. She scanned faces quickly, but she didn't know what she was looking for, until she saw him. Other faces looked curious, amused, concerned, but his looked like he had seen a ghost.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and then she gave him the tiniest smile, and lowered her eyes. Of course, now that people were looking at her, they were recognizing her. She had been in the papers before for being a rich girl doing stupid things, but once she had been kidnapped for a month, she was national news. Her fifteen minutes might have been over, but they were far from forgotten.

"Is everything OK?" a man asked. He had that hard look that said he might be a cop. She wondered if her Dad had hired someone to follow her. Even if he hadn't, even if the guy wasn't a cop, all she would need to do was point and say a few words, and the man who kidnapped her would be caught.

"Yes," she said. "It's fine. I just remembered I have to get a card...."

She was a bad liar, but she was saved from having to go on when her phone beeped. She flipped it open and held it to her ear, smiling at the faces that were turning away from her. Just yesterday's news, looking for a little more attention, they would be thinking, if they were thinking of her at all. Her own voice told her to get some breakfast.

 

[Risen]

There are moments in life where the whole universe seems to focus on one small instant. Time itself slows to a crawl, all for the benefit, (or to the detriment) of one simple person whose world is on the edge of collapse. This moment was like that for Miguel. His breathing stopped. His heart stopped. The world stopped, and then for one moment of seemingly divine grace he was given time to think.
**He heard the gasp. He knew that sound. It was pure fear. She had heard him and she knew. Instantly he was hunted prey. A massive surge of adrenaline pumped into his veins as she turned around and looked straight at him. Every instinct he had screamed RUN and his body started to react. His feet gripped the floor as he prepared to bolt but in that same slow moment of time she smiled.

"She smiled?" he thought to himself, "so fuckin' what, RUN you idiot."

Like a hunted rabbit who turns he wrong way at the last deadly instant, he hesitated. His mind processed that smile and if he were that rabbit he would have then felt the deadly grip of claws and teeth, but he knew this girl. In the dark hours of mental exhaustion, locked away with her he had seen that smile. He had adored it. In his dreams he had wanted to hear her moans of pleasure as that smile danced across her face, but it was excrutiatingly out of place here. Still it was enough to thwart the instinct of flight, and when Sasha's eyes turned to the floor they looked away not in fear, not in hatred, nor disgust, but in quiet acceptance. At any other moment in time that look would have made his cock swell with desire.

To the rest of the world it looked like Miguel had nearly fallen out of his chair. The less perceptive even thought he had meant to spring to Sasha's aid.*

Miguels heart suddenly began to beat again like a hammer in his ears. Adrenaline laced blood hit his brain.*He jumped back to reality as he heard a voice ask her if she was ok. She responded quietly, her composure regained with a class that only the rich or streetwise can accomplish. All he heard her say was, "it's fine..."

There was something in her tone. He'd heard it before. A lie? Why was she not attacking him? Why had she not screamed?*

"Stop." he said to himself. "Think. What just happened? It's fine?"*

No it wasn't.

Stunned, Miguel was definitely a dead rabbit in his own mind. He watched. Her phone rang, she answered with composure but he could hear her voice shaking. He suddenly realized that everyone in the room had been paying attention to her. As she turned he attention to her phone they returned to their own lives.

His heart was miles ahead of his brain at this instant and it took this opportunity to betray him. He listened to his own voice as if he were a spectator who was dumbstruck by the intensity of the scene. He knew it was himself saying it, but...

*"Sasha." The word seemed to echo in the room though it was spoken low and soft.

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

Sasha's heart was racing and her head was spinning. She realized she was hyperventilating as she stood there, and she forced herself to breathe slowly. She had worked on this with her therapist the first few weeks since she'd been free, when she was getting panic attacks frequently. She had almost caught her breath when she heard his voice saying her name.

"Sasha." His voice was tight, close to desperation.

She was shaking as she turned her head to look at him. He was half out of his chair, looking at her harder than anyone had ever looked at her. His face looked like he had seen a ghost, and she saw how hard he was holding the back of the chair. He had pinned her with his stare, but he was the one who was trapped, she realized. He couldn't take her from here. She felt her whole body shiver as she let out a breath. She was safe.

She knew what he looked like. For months, she had been wondering about that face, and now that it was in front of her, she could hardly think. He was handsome. A little scruffy-looking. He was bigger than she would have ever guessed. Taller and thicker. He must have been handling her carefully, even when he pushed her into the trunk of the car. She began to remember her dreams. Only now she had a face.

The surge of adrenaline that she had felt when she first heard his name was still pumping through her, but it was no longer terror. She felt her eyes widen. All the dreams, he had wanted her, taken her, by force or seduction, but during the whole month they had been in that tiny apartment together, he had never touched her. She felt herself blushing, even her ears blazed as she thought of all those dreams. Surely she didn't want that. He had made her a victim. He had kept her tied and blindfolded for a month. She knew she should hate him. She should report him, call the police, instead of gazing into his eyes.

"Miss?" said the man standing next to her, and she snapped out of the daze. She was at the head of the line now. People were waiting.

"Chai, please," she said. She knew she was supposed to eat, but she couldn't think about food now. She gave the girl behind the counter money and got change back. She put a dollar in the tip jar, and the girl handed her a cup of something hot. She turned. He was still watching her. As if she were on strings, she felt herself walking towards his table. She pulled out a chair and sat down, holding her cup in both hands.

She made herself look at him. She wanted to recognize him for another reason. She wanted to remember that she knew him from someplace else. But she knew that voice. It had been her only human contact for a month that had seemed an eternity.

"It's you," she said.

 

[Risen]

Miguel watched Sasha carefully as he plotted his escape route through the unwitting patrons. Words his father often said came to mind. "Watch your step son," occasionally followed by, "this is no time to screw up." Miguel wondered just how many things it was possible for him to lose in the next few moments.

She was holding herself together pretty good under the circumstances. He watched her closely as she ordered her tea. He could see the stress in her face. He tensed as she walked toward him but out of the habit which had developed in their seclusion he looked her over appraisingly. She looked different. More slim, and even more gorgeous than he remembered. Her hair seemed longer, but that wasn't it. It was something in how she carried herself. He watched every little hint of her body language searching for an answer.

His breath came faster as she pulled a chair and sat down across the table from him. He had no frame of reference for circumstances like this. He remained ready to bolt but this young woman was not acting afraid. Not one bit of her demeanor was threatening. It was as if she were still his captive.

"It's you." she said softly. Her voice quivered slightly. Her breathing was shallow.

Miguel nodded slowly, sizing up his next move. He watched her eyes. They were the one part of Sasha that was completely unfamiliar and now their beauty and depth were right here looking back at him. Was it shyness or fear that they presented?

"Sasha." he said again without thinking. He took a deep breath and spoke in a quiet, firm tone. He leaned closer to her to avoid being overheard.*"I*never*meant*for*you*to know I was here. I'm not here to hurt you."

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

She knew she was out of her mind. She should be calling the police, not sitting down for coffee with him. She kept looking into his blue eyes and thinking how beautiful they were. Then she would remember who he was, and she would be unable to look at him at all, but would stare at the table instead. She was never able to keep her eyes off of hm for long, though. For so long, the only question that mattered in her life had been about him. Who was he? Now that she had a face, she was oddly at a loss. All she could think about was his voice, and how strange it was to hear it coming from a person, instead of out of darkness.

She looked at him again, trying to read the expression on his face. She knew his voice intimately, and it was jarring to see him now. His eyes darted around the room, probably more nervously than hers. She had accepted that he held her fate once, and since then, she had imagined him as more and more of an absolute. To see him uncertain and afraid made her shiver. If he could be uncertain, what hope was there for her.

She closed her eyes. Not seeing him was better. When she heard him say he wasn't there to hurt her, she knew he was telling the truth. She had nothing to fear from him, she thought. But he had followed her. Her nipples hardened under the thin fabric of her dress. She felt her cheeks warming again, knowing it would be obvious to anyone looking at her. To him. Would he think she was excited by him? She knew, in the back of her mind, that she definitely was, but she couldn't face that yet. She took a sip of her drink. Maybe she needed to work harder at her therapy.

Or maybe she needed to accept that she had changed. She opened her eyes and looked into his for a long moment. It was hard to believe that he was the one. That he was handsome and rough around the edges only made it even more unfair. She'd have been interested in a guy like him anyway. She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I missed you," she said. It startled her. It wasn't what she had been thinking of saying, but once it was out, she knew that somehow it was true.

 

[Risen]

Miguel continued to watch Sasha carefully. The signals didn't jive with reality. She was nervous as hell, that was obvious. Her response to his words told them they had cut deep. When she looked at him it was as if she was longing for him.

He knew he was fooling himself. This was the most dangerous moment of his life. He watched more. She looked down almost shyly, and then back up at him.

Her eyes closed and her shoulders relaxed a bit as if it comforted her. Her breathing slowed. *Suddenly she took a deep breath and tensed up again. Her face flushed and visibly her nipples hardened and he couldn't help but notice through the thin film of her dress. For a moment the firm, round shape of her breasts distracted him. So many times he had thought about touching them, teasing them, fucking them, as he sat watching her for days on end. Her cheeks were bright red. He had never seen her blush before.

When she openned her eyes she seemed to look right into his soul. For the slightest moment her eyes narrowed and her expression changed to one of resolution, but he caught it.

What was she thinking?

"I missed you."

Miguel blinked, leaning back in his chair as her words washed over him. He processed the situation as quickly as a mind can when the realization of a whole new paradigm takes it over.

He knew instinctively that his next moves could change his life for better or worse, irrevocably.

She missed him. She missed him. What the fuck?

Suddenly it dawned on him. He was not the only one who felt their connection. The bond he felt with her was not one sided. He had never realized what his subconscious need to protect her had really meant until that moment. He had wanted this woman from the very day he had met her but the wickedness of his plan and the process of adbucting her and holding her captive had not allowed him to think of it. His moral fiber did not give him the right to desire her... Until now.

She was his.*

Why else would she not have brought down all the wrath of heaven and hell on him when she heard his voice? Why else would she have come to sit before him instead of run?

The blush of her face. Her sudden arousal. It all fell together in his mind, if not in conscious thought, then at least in the simple understanding that comes when the pieces of lifes puzzle come together.

"Sasha." he repeated. His confidence grew as her name came out of his mouth. Smoothly, naturally, he reached over and placing his hand against her flushed cheek as if he had done it a thousand times to comfort her and bring her confidence.*

His words were spoken with the reverence of a zealots prayers. They held a depth he had long forgotten was within him.

"I want you."

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

Her body's reaction to his words was instantaneous and almost overwhelming. She squeezed her thighs together, as her pussy clenched, almost as if he were about to enter her. It was like her dreams of the past month were going to come true, she thought, and why shouldn't they? She nodded her head, not looking at him, thinking what his words meant.

She knew that she wanted him. It was all she had been dreaming of for months, since he had turned her loose. She also knew that anyone who didn't feel what she was feeling would say it was insane to even think about going anywhere with him, but it didn't matter. She knew she was supposed to return to a life that had ended three months ago when she had been snatched outside of a club, but that seemed crazier to her. She wasn't supposed to have been changed by what happened, but she had been. She didn't quite know what she had changed into, or even if she was finished changing, but she couldn't pretend she was the same. And the new her hadn't stopped thinking about this man.

She looked around her, at people going about their business as if everything was perfectly normal. She realized she could get up and walk out with him, if she wanted to, and noone would think twice. They would just see a couple of people leaving a coffee shop together. She took a deep breath and nodded to herself. She looked him in the eye, and slid her hand across the table to him.

"What's your name?"

 

[Risen]

Sasha's intelligence was something Miguel had come to admire. She was sharp. He could see her processing all that was going on and imagined that he probably had a similar look.

It felt good to touch her warm cheek, or even just to touch her. Her whole body responded to his touch. He wanted to touch her more. He wanted feel her vulnerable and submitting to the driving thrusts of his cock. He wanted to replace the cries of fear that haunted him with cries of lustful pleasure. He wanted to leave her exhausted and quivering helplessly on the sheets knowing that she was his alone.

When she slid her hand across the table he took it gently, placing his other hand on top of it, but when she asked his name his grip tightened. He immediately loosened it, trying to hide his reaction.

A flicker of suspicion nagged at him and his brain interupted the moment. "She's smart. This is no time to lose your wits." he thought.

"This could be a set up. Maybe she knew you had fallen for her. Wait. I didn't even know I had fallen for her.

"This could be a setup. She could be playing me. She could be digging for information."

His internal argument ended abruptly. That didn't add up. Her could see the truth, still it called for a test. One final test. He knew that she would never leave the security of the crowd if she did not trust him. Not after the hell he'd put her through. If she willingly went to a private place with him, he could relax and explore the possibilities.

Deliberately sidestepping her question he held onto her hand and stood up.

"Come with me Sasha," he said as gently as he knew how. This was no time to make her fear him. If anything, he needed to assure her.

"I want to be some place quiet with you. There is so much..." he paused. "let's get out of here."*

He pulled her hand as if to help her to her feet. **

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

"Come with me Sasha." He held her hand in his, reminding her that he knew everything about her, while she knew nothing. She clenched her jaw to try to stop her lips from trembling. It didn't work.

"I want to be some place quiet with you. There is so much ... let's get out of here." His hand pulled on hers, trying to pull her to her feet.

To take her somewhere. Someplace quiet. She squeezed her eyes closed, and felt the gentle pressure on her hand. He knew everything. She felt fear opening in her belly like a great black hole. Was he testing her? Did he want to see if he could trust her? The sickening irony of it made her want to cry. He had kidnapped her and kept her a prisoner for a month, and he was afraid of her. He wanted her to prove something to him. He knew everything. He knew where she went for coffee. He knew how to find her. He didn't trust her enough to tell her his name. If she went with him, she would have no one to blame but herself for whatever he did.

She wanted to go, but she didn't move. What did he want? Another million dollars? Or would he murder her this time? Would he keep her prisoner again? The absolute terror that she had felt the first days of her captivity welled up in her, she felt herself trembling. She felt a scream building, and she remembered screaming herself hoarse when she woke blindfolded, a prisoner. She couldn't stand it again.

She shook her head. She looked at him, and she felt her heart breaking. As much as she wanted him, she didn't want to be his prisoner. Not again. She wanted him as a lover, not a jailer, but lovers had names. Some scrap of sanity was left to her, it seemed. Unless it was insane to let fear trump hope.

But she was afraid of what he had shown her he was capable of doing, and her hope was nothing but a dream.

"I can't," she whispered. "I ... I want you, too. But I can't go through that again. You have to go before I scream. I won't tell anyone I saw you, but you have to go."

 

[Risen]

Miguel watched Sasha carefully. She was overwhelmed with fear. His own thoughts came rushing back to him, "My next moves could change my life for better or worse, irrevocably."

The next words out of her mouth hit him like a sledge hammer. He had not thought through what to do if she said no. He hadn't thought about what losing her really meant to him. Didn't he owe her? Didn't she deserve to have something to hold over his head after what he had done to her?*

A few self aimed cuss words came surging through his mind. His former fearful desperation instantly turned to the desperation of a man who was about to lose someone who had a death grip on his heart.

"Think." he told himself. "Don't lose her now. You're the one who ruined her life..."*It was time to put up or shut up and all his selfish thoughts left him.*

She was worth the risk.

His thoughts cleared. Slowly, carefully, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He was sure the blood had left his face.

He took a napkin from their table and quickly wrote his name, phone number and three words: Miguel Perdon 555-2598 Please Forgive me

If it cost him a lifetime in prison. At least he'd know he tried.

He looked at her one more time. She was terrified. Grief gripped him and he turned to go, walking quickly through the door.*

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

As soon as he was gone, she felt a wave of regret sweep over her. Had she lost him because she hadn't been brave enough? But how could she be brave after everything that had happened to her? How could she even know what was the right thing for her to be thinking. None of her feelings made any sense, but why should they? The things that had happened to her didn't make any sense either.

She picked up the napkin and read what it said. She felt a nervous smile twitch at the corner of her lips. He had left his name. And his number. She looked out the window, but he was gone. The rush of emotion that she had been feeling, the fear and love and desire and confusion began to recede, and she was left empty. The thought of the sale of her business, that had seemed so important a few minutes ago, was suddenly all that was left, and the emptiness of her life seemed to fill her. Who could possibly understand her after what had happened to her? Who, except him. Miguel. She picked up her chai and went back to the condo.

.............*.............*.............*.............*.............*.............*

It was 2 in the morning. She had woken from another dream, breathing hard, her heart racing with terror. It was her life, now, that terrified her. Since she had met Miguel, nothing had been the same. She hadn't been dreaming of him taking her sexually any longer, she had been dreaming of being held prisoner again, but this time it was her life that was holding her prisoner. Her father, the therapist, her friends. All the people telling her to go on with her life, as if nothing had happened.

A week had gone by since she had met him. She hadn't told anyone. She had gone on with her routine, but it was robotic. She wasn't living a life, she was not living it, thinking of what could be. She got out of bed, went to the window. She looked out, as she did every night, and sighed when she saw nobody outside. She was relieved in part, but each night she looked. Each night, a part of her was hoping that she would see him. She knew if she did, she would be terrified, but she had only had a few moments to see him. As strange as it was, she wanted more. Somehow, she wanted the chance to get to know him as a person, instead of as her captor.

For the hundredth or thousandth time since he had given it to her, she started to dial his number. It had almost become a game with ehr, to see how far she would get through the seven numbers before she was overcome with fear. She usually made it through 3 or 4. Tonight she made six, before she paused. She was afraid, but she was more afraid that her life would be this empty forever. She didn't know what had made him do what he did, but she knew that she missed his voice. She pushed the last number, and listened as it rang.

 

[Risen]

As soon as he left the coffee shop he ducked around a corner and stopped to breath. Adrenaline was the motivation now. He blew it. His last ditch effort to have her was probably stupid. She would never forgive him and definitely wouldn't trust him. In the back of his mind he believed he was wrong but he was in survival mode now.

Hah, he had tested her, but he felt like he was the one who had failed. Now he needed to think. He couldn't go home. He couldn't go to friends houses. He had to keep his head down.

He ran to his truck, jumped in and took off. He went to a cheap hotel, rented a room and spent the next few sleepless days and nights frustrated. He thought about going back to his old job... Nope, can't do that now. Maybe he ought to split town. Nothing appealed to him. He wanted her.

His underlying preoccupation was his phone. It rang a few times, but it wasn't her. He wondered if people ever got a second chance at a lifetime like what he had envisioned for a brief moment. He doubted it. She was one of a kind. What a crappy twist of fate that he'd meet what the stories called a soulmate by kidnapping her!

She wasn't going to call. When he finally let himself believe that for a moment he passed out. He slept hard. No dreams, no nothing, just oblivion.

He woke up too fast. It was pitch black except for a light flashing by his hand. He looked down just as the phone rang again. It was still in his hand as though he had just gone to sleep. Half dazed, he answered, "Hello?"

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

She was so astonished that he answered that she just listened to him breathing for a long time. She smiled, and then she realized he might hang up if she didn't say anything. She sat in a soft chair and looked out on the night, thinking.

"It's Sasha," she said. She was breathless again, but it wasn't terror. It was like the excitement of talking to the boy she liked in school, when those feelings were still new and overwhelming. Just like in those days, she had called him and then couldn't think of anything to say.

"I can't sleep," she said. She shook her head. She sounded ridiculous. She was sure that he would hang up on her if she didn't start making sense, but what sense was there in this? Who would understand that she was calling the man who had kidnapped her in the middle of the night, because she felt trapped.

"When you said you want me," she started again. "When you said you want me, did you mean... because, you had me for a month and you never... and you shouldn't have. Not then, but... was that what you meant?"

She knew she was babbling. She knew she was avoiding what she needed to say, and as squirmy and uncomfortable as it made her feel, she knew she couldn't stand not saying it any longer. She stood and opened her closet.

"I need to see you," she said. "Do you know the all night diner on the highway? Meet me there in half an hour."

She put on jeans and boots and a long leather coat, and left her hair loose. She put on a little make up, but not too heavy, just enough so the darkness around her eyes didn't show, and so her lips were a little more prominent. She told herself it wasn't a date as she drove out. He would probably think it was a set up, she thought.

When she got there, she took a booth by the window, and tried hard not to watch every car that drove by, waiting for the one that would be him.

 

[Risen]

Miguel pressed the phone to his ear and heard nothing. He almost hung up but then he heard breathing. It had to be her.

There the adrenaline was again. He was instantly wide awake. He laid back against his pillows. Talking hadn't worked well for him last time. He waited.

"It's Sasha.." He smiled in the dark. "I can't sleep."

"Baby, I can relate to that." he thought.

Then she asked what he meant when he said he wanted her. He wanted to tell her that there was nothing about her that he didn't want, but she was shaking. He could hear it in her voice. He started to answer but again thought better of it.

Then came her offer. He had thought about this enough. He realized by the way she had handled herself the last time they met, that she was genuine. If he was wrong, then to hell with it, he would pay the price for his crimes.

He wanted her.

A half hour? Shit!

He bounded out of bed practically landing in the motel bathroom. He had no good, clean cloths with him so he grabbed his only fresh pair of Levi's and his only pressed shirt and flew out the door with shoes in hand.

2:15, great. The witching hour for cops. There was no way he was going to make it to the cafe by 2:30 at less than 80 miles an hour, and no kidnapper in his right mind drives at 80.

He scolded himself, "Relax tiger. She called you."

He pulled in a few minutes late. There was only a couple of cars in the lot. Drunks eating breakfast.

He walked in with a deep breath and spotted her in a booth and sat down across from her. She looked tired but with her, it just made her all the more desirable in his eyes.

"Hi Sasha." *

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

She couldn't help smiling when she saw him. After she had arrived, she began to think what a risk it was for him, but he had come. He knew she could have been setting him up, but he came anyway.

"Hi Miguel." Now he was here, she didn't know what to say. All the time she had dreamed of him, they had never had any reason to talk, and since she had met him, there didn't seem to be any way to put her feelings into words. The only thing she knew was that for her to see a future, she needed him. It was the only way. When she wasn't with him, she was torn between wanting him and fearing him, but now all she felt was relief.

She stood up and put her arms around him, resting her head against his broad chest as she squeezed him. She felt eyes on them, but it didn't matter. They were just people, meeting late at night. Let people wonder about who he was to her, if anyone even recognized her now. She looked up at him, and wondered if he thought it strange that she was staring at him with such adoration. She knew she thought it was the strangest thing she could think of, but was one of the few things that she was sure of anymore.

"When you had me," she whispered. "Did you ever think of just having me?"

She blushed as she said it, but it was the only thing that mattered to her right now. All her thoughts and feelings were too much for her to deal with. It was the middle of the night, she was too tired to think. Tired of thinking about this. She bit her lip as she looked up. Was it all in her head, or was there really something between them?

 

[Risen]

She was smiling again, that beautiful little smile that he wanted to be the cause of. When she stood up and wrapped her arms around him he hesitated but only for a moment. Wrapping his arms around her he placed his palms on her shoulders and back. His fingers molded to the shape of her back. Shoulder muscles, soft flesh in his grip felt good. even though their were layers of clothing between them he held her tight and pressed his fingers into the flesh in a subconscious attempt to be that fraction of an inch closer to her. He could read this girl enough to know that there were no cops coming. She wanted him.

She looked up at him with happiness in her eyes. He smiled, thinking that he couldn't remember smiling. Not like this.

"When you had me," she whispered. "Did you ever think of just having me?" She was blushing again. She was so innocent in that respect. Uncorrupted and transparent in a way that drew him in deeper. She knew her own mind, but there was a purity in her desire for him that pierced him at that moment. His smile softened but only because it came from that much deeper inside him.**

"Always Sasha. I thought of taking you, having you... And then." he paused to make sure he said it right, but it really was this simple. "I thought of never losing you."

He spoke low and soft to not be overheard, "I'm not a bad person. I can't tell you how what I did to you haunts me, how I hate it. I didn't think I had the right to have you or even want you, but so many times when I was with you I wanted to take you and..." He stopped. He could tell by her reaction that she knew what he meant, but he also remembered scaring her away and so he checked himself. Too many words made him lose her the last time.

He realized they were being looked at like crazy teen-aged lovers but he held out a moment longer with her in his arms.

His thinking stopped and his instincts took over. Somewhere in the back of his mind warnings went unheeded. In as gentle and unforceful way as he could he slid a hand up her back. Feeling his fingers tangle in her hairs length he softly placed his hand against the back of her head, he leaned down and placed his lips against hers. His mind screamed that it was too much, too soon, but his heart was in control now. He knew she wanted him too. The time for thinking was through.

At the moment their lips met, he was sure she could feel his heart beating through his chest. * *

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

For just a moment she wanted to run. It was happening too fast, she thought. She shouldn't be kissing him. They had only barely met. Except that wasn't true. They had been together for a month, and they had talked. Of course, he had told her very little about his life, but she knew the things he liked, the foods and films and music and books that he got excited about. The kinds of places that he felt comfortable in. The things he was passionate about, and weren't those things more important than his biography? Where he went to kindergarten and so on?

And the way his lips felt touching hers made everything else seem unimportant. It seemed to her and spin her, and she realized that she had been wanting this almost since she had first heard his voice. She kissed him with all the passion that came from her fear and her longing and her frustration with the world she had come back to, that couldn't understand what had happened to her and didn't want her to understand it either. Miguel understood though. It had happened to him too.

As his tongue swirled around hers, Sasha felt herself getting dizzy. She needed to sit down. Or better, lie down. She broke the kiss after a long, long moment and rested her head against his chest as she breathed harder, holding him tight. When she looked outside, she saw a sign. It was cheap neon, but it could have been sent from the gods, and she felt herself blushing.

She stepped back, out of his arms, staring at him. She was still afraid of him, she knew, but she needed him. She felt as if she would rather be kidnapped by him again than go on living the empty life she had been living. She took a few dollars out of her pocket for the coffee and dropped them on the table.

She nodded to the window, to the bright sign of the motel across the parking lot, and looking up at him, blushing fiercely. "Can we go there?"

 

[Risen]

The moment Miguel began to kiss Sasha he began to regret it. He had never done anything but push this girl over the edge, first with his crimes and then with his desire for her. He didn't think. His track record for thinking wasn't playing out all that well, and now, not thinking was making him do stupid things.

He felt her nearly pull away when she sucked in a sharp breath through her nose. He almost broke the kiss but then she relaxed. Her lips softened and parted slightly. He could feel her breath against his face. Holding her in his arms he felt her chest expanding and contracting more slowly. She melted into his arms and her breathing began to ease up and become less shallow. then he relaxed a little too and succumbed to the realization that they were no longer so separated. Again it sank in that she wanted him, and as he felt her respond to him, as her passion grew and flowed into him through their kiss he felt a simple happiness. Then he just kissed her, absorbing her passion, feeling it, and enjoying it.

It was easier for him to let go, but it was also natural. He realized for certain for the first time that he was not completely fooling himself.

He let himself feel it. Her lips parted more, inviting him in and he slid his tongue along their curves, then allowing his tongue to dance with hers. His heart was not slowing down. Her breathing picked up again, but it was not stress that she emanated. Deep inside he was warming up, and so was she. She was breathing hard now and it was lighting his fire.

Their kiss stopped naturally, comfortably. She rested her head on his chest and held him tight. Suddenly she stepped back and the first thing that hit his mind was, "what the hell did I screw up this time" but the look on her face was all passion. She tossed money on the table and looked outside at the motel across the street. "Can we go there?" she said.

Miguel looked out the window, debating how he could let this happen without hurting her or scaring her. He nodded carefully and then took one of her hands in both of his, holding it warmly. Part of him objected to this beautiful treasure being holed up in a cheap hotel with him. It was like a bitter memory, but he also knew that to follow her lead for a while was probably the best thing he could do.

"Are you sure?" he asked and she smiled at him and nodded.

He held her hand gently, waiting for any resistance as he turned and left the cafe. They walked across the street, and Miguel threw a credit card and some cash on the counter, checking them into a room. The pudgy little night clerk gave him an ill conceived wink which Miguel disregarded with near disgust, hoping that Sasha had not noticed it. He thought again how this lady was above this place and then opening the door for her he watched her face for signs of undue distress. She seemed to be holding her own.

She led to the room but before he unlocked the door he took her hand again, gaining her attention. he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulling her gently against him he whispered, "This is up to you Sasha. You know I want you, but..." He didn't know what to say so after a short pause he just kissed her again in front of the door to their room. He felt like it was a door through time, and destiny was right on the other side.

This kiss had no reservations at all on his part.

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

When he kissed her, she rose up on her toes, pressing her body against his. She kissed him back, arms around him, holding tight. As tight as she held, though, she felt as if he were slipping away from her still. He held her, he wanted her, he trusted her enough to risk meeting her. Even knowing all that, though, she was still uncertain. A part of her was still holding back, and she knew what it was. It was thinking of everyone she knew, her friends, her father, what would they think? When she had talked of what had happened to her, they had all thought it was horrible.

She pulled back, looking up at Miguel. He looked down, his eyes full of desire, his jaw set. He was so determined to not do wrong to her this time. Except that she wasn't even sure what she wanted. She felt a need that seemed to fill her until she thought she would die with it, but what the desire was, she could hardly say. She had been dreaming of this man so long that now she was with him, she was lost. She shook her head slowly.

Then it struck her, and she felt the fear rising in her again. She wasn't afraid of him, this time, but of herself. She turned away from him and took a deep breath. She was falling for this man, she had been since the day she had woken up his captive. All the time she had been dreaming of him, she had been dreaming of that. She had been dreaming of him taking her, loving her, but she had never been free in any of the dreams.

She walked to the bed. She tried to say something to him, but she couldn't seem to make words. Instead, she pulled a pillow out of its case. She ripped the pillowcase into long strips. When she turned back to him, she almost giggled at the look on his face. She couldn't blame him for thinking she was crazy, she wasn't at all sure that she wasn't. She was just sure that tonight, she needed him to be the man she had fallen for, and she knew what that meant.

She slipped her jacket off and threw it on the dresser, then she took a wide strip of cloth, and pulled it across her eyes, tying it behind her head. She shivered. As much as it terrified her, this was what she needed.

"Promise you'll untie me in the morning," she whispered, holding the other strips out towards where he had been.

 

[Risen]

They kissed. She gave herself to Miguel in that kiss and he felt her passion to his core. In response to his words Sasha opened the motel room door and walked inside. He followed, excited, nervous, happy... The feelings were beyond his ability to interpret them. So much had occured between them. Devastating things had happened that most people never experience.

Sasha stopped, looking at him. She walked to the bed and removed a pillow case from a pillow. She began tearing it into thick strips. He played along, watching, trying to hide his confusion. He doubted that it was working.

It occured to him that she might want to tie him up. Maybe even get revenge for what he had put her through. He didn't care, he was commited to this course, but he began to think that cops and cuffs might be easier to take.

When she began to tie a strip of pillow case over her eyes his heart leapt into his throat. A wave of realization washed over him and it hit him that she wanted, maybe even needed exactly what he needed. It was like closure and a new begining in his mind. The accepting of a darkness within oneself while realizing and embracing its beautiful truth and innocence.

She tied it on and handed him him the spare strips saying, "Promise to untie me in the morning." She was standing there in darkness of her own creating, asking him to be that man he knew she feared.

He almost said no as what she was aking him to do went counter to everything he had come to believe about himself in the time since she had been released. His regret and anger at the mistakes he had made welled up in him, but then he realized that he needed this. They needed this. Something inside him had changed and he wanted her just as he had first met her. Bound and vulnerable. What he needed most was her to want it from him.

He took the strips of cloth from her hand and then he took her hands. This was not like his past transgressions against her, this was the beginning of a new life for them both. One life had ended in violence. He had been, maybe they had both been in between worlds ever since, hurting and confused. Now a new life would begin by mirroring that old world, but in poetic beauty and grace.

He stepped close in front of her. Still holding her hands he leaned forward so that she could feel his breath against her cheek and he said in his soft deep voice. "I promise."

He then took her hands and bound them in front of her at the wrists, firmly but not tight. He did not want to hurt her, but he wanted her to know she could not get loose. Just like the last time.

He then took his hands away from her, leaving her standing in open space. He could see her returning to the woman who had been blinded for almost an entire month. She was nervous, trying to figure out what was happening around her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she jumped. His heart melted and he kissed her. She was both aroused and afraid, but he knew he had to go through with this.

He then turned her and gently lay her face down on the bed. It was symbolic to him that he bind her feet as he had done before. He helped her up and then told her to kneel just as he had done that first night when he had brought her into the apartment, not knowing what else to do with her. He knew what to do tonight.

From here forward nothing could *be the same. He knelt down in front of her and brushed her hair out of her face before kissing her on the forehead.

"You're so beautiful." he stated as he*stood, leaving her kneeling on the floor. He*took off his shirt, then sitting on the bed next to her he removed his shoes while he watched her. He was worried about her but he waited to see how she would react. He waited to see if this was taking her too far, as he prepared to take her, and try keep her for the rest of his life.

He waited just a small moment longer because he knew that once he took this next step he would be her captive forever.

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

"I promise," he said, and she wanted to laugh. It had been a stupid thing for her to ask of him. She was just as afraid as if he hadn't said it. The only thing that would change that was in the morning, if he did let her go. But his voice touched her, in the dark, with her eyes covered, and she knew that she would never stop being afraid. Not entirely, but she could stand it. If she could trust him, she would face it gladly, and if she couldn't, she didn't think it mattered.

She was almost trembling as he tied her wrists. She knew torn strips of pillowcase weren't the world's greatest rope, but she recognized his touch. It was terrifying in its familiarity. He was good with rope, and she wondered where he had learned. The knots were tight and secure, but not too tight. Just as they hadbeen when she had been captive. She had never thought of it then, but he could have really hurt her just by tying her badly.

Then he kissed her. it wasn't that the fear disappeared, it was just drowned out by her wanting him. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but she couldn't, so she just rose up on her toes and kissed him as hard as she could. She could feel his need as he kissed her, his passion. Even if it was just sex, she knew he at least needed her as much as she did him. And she was sure that it was more.

It was like a dream as he steered her to the bed and lay her down. When he had tied her ankles to the bed, she couldn't help pulling against the bonds to see how tight they were. She knew she wouldn't be getting out tonight, and the thought sent another rush of excitement through her. She was powerless, helpless. She couldn't even undress herself. As crazy as it was, she realized that this was what felt natural to her. She arched her back, liftng her ass up and grinding it.

"Please," she whispered softly. "I've wanted you so long."

 

[Risen]

"Please," she whispered softly. "I've wanted you so long."

She needed say no more. The walls that had kept his desires at bay when they were togther in their version of hell were gone.*

Miguel sucked in his breath and let it our in a quiet,"Mmmm." His cock began to respond to her, growing harder. Kneeling there even in her cloths, she was the sexiest thing he had ever set eyes on.

The fantasies which had so many times crossed his mind while the were locked in the apartment together began to resurface, but now they were not taboo. No more fears. She was asking for it just like he had dreamed it up. She had blindfolded herself!

He kicked of his last shoe and stood up having forgotten to remove his socks. His cock was aching inside his jeans. He leaned down and took her bound hands bringing them up and placing them onto his growing bulge and began to unfasten his pants.

The dreams of her wanting him were real. The thought of her sucking his cock....

He pulled his pants open and let it free. Almost fully erect her hands were on it. He looked down unable to believe his eyes. He watched the beauty woman that had become the center of his life these last months kneel bound and blindfolded with his aching hard-on in her hands.

There were so many things he wanted to do to her, and for her, and with her, but at this moment he ached to feel her suck on his cock. His pants and boxers began to slide off of his ass and down his legs as Sasha began to touch him. He placed his hands on each side of her head, driving his hips forward until his cock made contact with her lips.

Earlier she had asked him if he ever thought of taking her...

Now he would show her what he thought about, and what he wanted.

 

[tulipsonanorgan]

When she heard him undressing she couldn't help termbling. When she felt him lowering her to her knees, part of her wanted to pull away. She felt her blood racing, her heart pounded as she knelt in front of him. With the blindfold on, she couldn't see him, but she could hear him moving in front of her. She wanted to reach up for him, but she wasn't sure. She was tied and blindfolded and wanted him in control, so she waited.

When he took her hands in his and raised them up, she resisted just a little, just to feel him take control. Just so he would make her, and he made her touch his cock. She ran her fingers along it, feeling its length, wrapping her hands around it to feel how thick it was. She blushed, realizing that she had never touched a cock before without seeing it. She couldn't look at him, and she sudenly felt her vulnerability as a knot in her guts. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to set her free. It was too soon.

Then she felt his hands in her hair and she realized that she had been stroking him in her hands even after he had let her go. His body shifted towards her and she opened her mouth. She felt his cock brush against her lips and she let her tongue slip out to tease the tip. The rich flavor of him filled her senses. She sucked and her lips pulled tight around the head of his cock as she began to slide him further into her mouth.

It was just as she had dreamed. She moved her head back and forth, mouth full of his cock, forgetting her fear. She was his captive again, but this time she had given herself to him. That was the difference, she had chosen this, and suddenly the most important thing was to be good for him. She moaned as she felt the thick lngth of him, hard and throbbing in her mouth, exciting her more than anything. She had never wanted anything as much as she wanted this, she realized, moving her head faster, sucking harder. She wondered if he was looking at her, but she was glad that she couldn't see. He could use her as he wished, and she could simply be his.

 

[Risen]

Sasha stroked his cock while it grew harder. It felt surreal. His dreams not in his head but right here. Real.

She licked the tip. He needed more. Miguel felt the warmth of her mouth wrap around his cock and he slid in further until he was as deep as he thought he could go without choking her. He loosened his grip on her head, placing one hand behind it with gentle pressure telling her not to stop.

He moaned. It would be so easy to let her suck him until he came, but he wanted more, much more than that from her. He stood enjoying her and slowly started pumping his cock into her mouth, listening to the sounds of her pleasuring him. Her own moans brought memories of dreams streaming to his mind.

He needed more. He looked down watching the gorgeous face slide back and forth over his shaft. He realized they were both still clothed. As she sucked him he stepped out of his pants which had bunched up around his ankles, wishing he had removed his socks. He was now nearly naked and she was almost fully clothed.

He pulled himself away and reached down, not wanting to talk and break the spell that was between them. He helped her to her feet slowly. He stood in front of her, grasped her face in both hands kissing her and smelling his scent on her with her hands bound between their bodies. He opened her shirt and realized it was not coming off. He looked down at her pants and realized they were not coming off either.*

He did not want to wait. He grasped her shirt and tore it, trying desperately not to frighten her. He kissed her neck heatedly, wanting her to feel his passion, wanting to remind her he was not here to hurt her. His breathing was heavy and intense as he pressed his bare chest against her, wanting to feel her warm flesh against his. He played at her bra and finally tore it off as well.

He kissed her again, this time to remind himself that she was real. He unfastened her pants and then he knelt down and untied the bindings on her ankles then slid her pants down her legs. He eased her back onto the bed and pulled them off of her feet.

Sasha was now naked sitting on the edge of he bed. He wasn't sure but she might have even been trembling. Her wrists were bound in front of her and she was blindfolded. The image overwhelmed him. Words flooded into his mind. He wanted desperately to reassure her. He realized then that the way to reassure her was to never hurt her again, and to make love to her in a ways that communicated without words.

He leaned down and gently lowered her backwards until she lay on her back. He lifted *her hands and pushed his head under her bound wrists so that her hands were behind his neck.

She was so beautiful under him. He grabbed her breasts in both hands as he looked at her, squeezing each nipple between thumb and forefinger. He kissed her between her breasts and positioned his body between her legs.

He pressed his body down on her. His stomach could feel the heat coming from between her legs. He played with her breasts, massaging, pressing, as he kissed his way down her belly until he could smell the sweet scent of her pussy.

He lifted her legs with both hands, spreading them and kissed the inside of her thigh.

He had dreamed of this moment too. She, unable to see him, her legs raised in the air and him, wanting nothing more at that moment than to taste her and watch her squirm her way to her first orgasm of the night.

His cock throbbed hard as he knelt. It would be so easy to just slip it inside her and fuck her until his come unloaded inside her. He could feel it, months of pressure built up in lust for his woman.*

Feeling happy for the first time in ages he licked and kissed his way down her thigh toward Sasha's dripping sex. Her lips were open, ready and glistening. He pressed he tip of his tongue just inside her and then with excruciating slowness slid it up between her lips, parting them and tasting her, listening for every little sound and watching every little moment she made.*