Saving Aurora

Chapter 16

Aurora

How are you feeling this morning, Princess?” a groggy voice asks

from behind as the arm draped across my middle tightens

slightly.

I jump, and it takes me a moment to wake enough to be aware of my

surroundings. I quickly realize I’m still stuck in the same nightmare I have been

living in for the past few weeks. I don’t want to admit to myself that waking up

next to the man who bought me last night isn’t an entirely unpleasant experience.

Maybe if I try hard enough I can convince myself I only like him because he has

been the first person to be kind to me since my abduction. Not because he makes

me feel both safe and cared for.

One minute he’s unrelenting and demanding, then the next he’s gentle and

full of normal conversation as if we were getting to know each other. Almost as

if last night was some strange one-night stand.

“Princess?”

Closing my eyes again, I answer sleepily, “I’m okay.” Which every man

should know is code for I’m miserable, angry, unhappy, annoyed, or a

combination of all those feelings, but I don’t want to talk to you about it.

“Just okay?” he asks, clearly not knowing the true meaning of the phrase. “I

think we can do better than that.”

The man’s arm around my middle reaches up so his hand can cup my breast,

while his fingers lazily begin to caress the rapidly hardening n****e. Instinctively

I push myself back into his arms, seeking to get as close as I can to the

pleasurable feeling he’s sparking throughout my body.

I freeze suddenly when my ass brushes against his thick morning erection. It

surprises me, catching me off guard, though I don’t know why. Even though I

know it happens, having never woken up next to a man I didn’t expect it.

A tongue flicks the skin at the back of my neck, sending a shiver through me.

Several gentle sucking kisses that leave me groaning in frustration follow. I don’t

want to desire this man. I should hate him. But my body, my p***y, has turned

traitor. It tingles with so much need for this man’s attention that I don’t fight him

when he wraps the arm he’s laying on under my body. Reaching around, he

teases my n*****s with barely-there caresses. His other hand slides lazily down

my body. I find myself rolling further back into him, encouraging his

exploration. The tips of his fingers finally reach the top of my p***y. He stops

and teases the skin there, sparking goosebumps throughout my body.

I groan. “Sir.”

“What do you want, Princess?” he teases, continuing to play with my body.

“Touch me,” I find myself snapping in frustration. I grab his wrist and

attempt to pull his hand down further, shifting to spread my legs apart.

The answering slap to my p***y has me gasping for breath and creaming

with need.

“I’m in charge. I say when and how my perfect little cunt gets played with,”

he growls in my ear, nipping the lobe roughly. Gone is the man who in the

middle of the night let me take charge and explore his body. This man is the one

who first walked into the room last night.

“You asked,” I growl back, no longer truly afraid of him.

“Be careful,” he warns. “Or I won’t let you come and will just f**k you for

my own pleasure.”

“I’m sorry,” I whine pitifully, the need within me to come becoming almost

unbearable. I hate myself just a little bit more at that moment.

The hand on my breast squeezes my n****e almost painfully between his

thumb and forefinger, and I grab onto his arm attempting to anchor myself in

reality as the pleasure continues to build.

The hand cupping my p***y moves, rubbing me in torturous slowness. I gasp

in relief as two thick fingers force their way unrelentingly into my wetness—

filling and stretching me. I begin to ache in a different, just as needful way. The

man uses his thumb to rub my c**t in slow circles as he curls his fingers inside of

me.

“Should I let you come before I f**k you?” His voice is clearer now, the fog

of sleep having dissipated.

“Please,” I answer. One of my hands traitorously reaches back and grabs his

backside, squeezing it encouragingly, while the other is caressing the arm of the

hand which is touching my p***y so pleasurably.

“Since you asked so nicely,” the man states before he begins vigorously

rubbing my c**t with his thumb at the same time he’s pumping his fingers in and

out of my sopping wet channel. The hand at my breast continues its twin assault

adding to the onslaught.

It doesn’t take long before my muscles contract in pleasure around his

fingers, and I gasp for breath. He continues his assault until the last of the

orgasm has left my body. I lean back against him, breathing hard and completely

sated. Damn him—the man knows exactly how to make my body come alive.

“My turn.” He rolls me under him and onto my back. I’m still shaking from

the pleasure I’d received when, without warning, he thrusts his hardness fully

into me. I gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders as my legs automatically raise and

wrap themselves around his back. I look up at him; his eyes are sparkling with

desire and his dark hair is tousled, sticking up every which way, softening the

look of his hard exterior, making him seem almost—cute, instead of the

powerful, demanding, yet irresistible man I met only hours ago.

“This is the perfect way to start the day,” he grunts almost to himself as he

begins moving, his rhythm demanding and unrelenting. “f*****g a hot, tight,

soaking wet cunt, that’s all yours.”

For the second time already this morning, I begin to feel the tell-tale tingles

of an orgasm rising through my body. My hands reach down and grab his naked

backside, encouraging his movements.

“Sir,” I plead, wanting—needing—to come again.

His lips find mine, taking them roughly and leaving me breathless when he

pulls back and looks into my eyes.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, shifting his weight onto one arm so he can reach

back with the other and grab my hand, pulling it away from where it was

gripping him. “I want to feel your cunt squeezing my c**k as I f**k you.”

I slid my hand between our bodies and find my swollen c**t.

“That’s it, Princess,” he encourages me as I slide my fingers through the

parted folds where we’re joined.

His movements are rougher now as he slams into my body, pushing me into

the bed, its metal frame hitting the wall in the rhythm he’s creating. I copy the

rhythm with my own movements as I bring myself closer and closer to orgasm.

“Come,” he demands, pulling my hand away and replacing it with his own

calloused fingers. His touch sends me over the edge, and I buck against him as I

fall over. I feel my inner walls contracting painfully around his hardness as I

bring him further inside. His body tightens suddenly, and he lets go with a rush

of wet warmth filling me. He continues his movements, getting every last ounce

of pleasure out of the experience.

I briefly wonder if he’s like that in life, in business.

With a last thrust, he plants himself deep within me, branding me again on

the inside. Filling and stretching me to my limits—beyond them—I feel sated

and ache from his roughness.

His breath is thick and warm against my neck where his head landed after his

release.

“I could f**k your cunt forever, Princess,” he states breathlessly, kissing my

neck before turning my face toward his and gently touching my lips with his

own.

It’s as if he’s another person suddenly—tender, gentle, and almost sweet as

he lazily kisses me. I find myself responding, craving this side of him.

Slowly he pulls away and leaves a kiss on the tip of my nose and forehead

before he shifts to move off of me—out of me.

I gasp and wince in pain as he pulls his now flaccid c**k from my body.

Instinctively, I pull my legs together and curl into the fetal position.

The man leans over me and kisses my temple before he rolls me back onto

my back. Kneeling on the bed next to me, his hands grab my thighs, and he

attempts to wrench them apart. For the first time, I struggle against his hold,

twisting and turning.

“Please,” I beg, not knowing what he’s about to do next.

“Stop,” he snaps, hitting the side of my ass with a cracking smack that has

me freezing. “I only want to assess the damage.”

Looking up at him through blurry, tear-filled eyes, I nod my head in

understanding.

“Be a good girl,” he admonishes patronizingly. “Put your feet on the bed and

spread your legs.”

Against my better judgment, I find myself following his instructions. He

rewards me with a gentle kiss. “Good girl.”

I squirm uncomfortably as he inspects my p***y, his fingers spreading my

folds as he bends to get a closer look. I wince as he pushes the tip of his finger

inside. He growls and mutters something under his breath I can’t make out.

Concluding his inspection, he leans over to kiss me, stating, “I’d kiss it

better, but I have no desire to taste my own c*m, and your cunt is covered with

it. Inside and out.”

My mind is completely jumbled. I don’t know what to think, or how to feel.

From the very beginning, his actions have confused me. I don’t want to like him,

but then he shows me a side of himself I can’t help but feel drawn to.

Kissing me again gently, I barely register that one of his hands has moved

down my body until his finger comes into contact with my c**t. I jerk away,

ending the kiss and placing my hands on his shoulders attempting to push him

away. “Don’t, it really hurts,” I tell him firmly for the first time since we met.

“I know, Princess,” he says softly, nuzzling our noses together in a confusing

sign of affection. “I’m only going to tease your c**t. You deserve another

orgasm.”

The man then proceeds to slowly kiss me, his lips moving against my mouth

in the same rhythm his fingers are gently dancing against my c**t. It doesn’t take

long before my arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in closer as I moan with pleasure. Breaking the kiss, I gasp for breath as I come,

my hips bucking against his never-ceasing touch.

“I’ve never had anyone as responsive as you.” He smiles down, seemingly

satisfied with what he’s just done, but I don’t know whether to take his statement

as a compliment or not.

I make no reply.

The man glides his hand up my body and cups my breast, squeezing it and

thumbing my n****e. His mouth descends, replacing his thumb, drawing it into

his mouth and sparking sensations throughout my body. I find my hands have

migrated into his hair, unconsciously encouraging him to continue. He lets go

with a sucking pop, looking up at me and states breathlessly, “You have amazing

breasts, I can’t keep my hands—my mouth—off of them.”

“Thank you,” I reply stupidly, giving him a shy smile, shaking my head in an

attempt to lift the fog he keeps putting me under with his very touch.

“No. Thank you, Princess.” He smiles down at me, finally pulling himself

fully away. I roll on my side and grab my pillow as I watch him get off the bed. I

find that I enjoy the view of his naked and toned body, the narrowness of his

waist, the firmness of his backside, the broad c**k dangling between his legs,

and his strong thighs. I can’t help but stare at the man’s gorgeous body.

He turns back to me and, smiling, he smacks my backside lightly, ordering,

“Get up. We’re taking a quick shower.”

“Okay,” I say softly, sitting up. I take hold of the hand he’s extended my way,

and let him lead me into the bathroom.

The entire time I’ve been with this man, I have tried hard not to think about

our time ending and what that would mean for me. Yes, he’s been demanding

and forceful, but he’s also been considerate, kind, and oddly gentle. Since this

whole dark nightmare started, he has been the only sliver of light—of hope.

I find myself wondering again if I asked would he take me with him? Would

he help me escape? And if so, do I really want to put myself at his mercy?