Page 45 of Grace

My captor tore the door open with a dirty towel around his waist, bright drops of water trickling down his body. I watched as they meandered down, forming a small puddle underneath him. It reminded me of the one I’d ended up with on my small pillow. Whenever I thought about my parents or the happier times of my life, it drained my heart of blood and corroded my soul. I missed my parents so much, it was unbearable.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his chest rising and falling unnaturally fast.

I opened my arms, hugged his waist, leaned my head against his wet chest, and cried quietly.

Chase froze at my gentle touch. He stood there, a towel in one hand, the round doorknob in the other. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest. I held him in my embrace for several long minutes… until our heartbeats and breathing became even.

Chase let go of the doorknob and embraced me, pulled me to his muscular chest, kissed my hair, and inhaled my scent deeply. I looked up at him with burning eyes. When our gazes met, something deep down stirred in me. Several emotions were swirling in my body, but the most important one—tearing at my heart with sharp teeth—was a desire to be loved. I needed love to fill my emptiness.

My hands slid off his waist, and he grabbed me, pressing his face into the sensitive skin at the base of my neck. I wanted to be close to him. I cupped his face in my palms, pulled him away from my neck, and pressed my lips against his. I devoured his mouth and tongue. He pulled me even closer, then picked me up and let the towel fall off. He kicked the door in with his foot.

I moved against his body quickly, rubbing my clitoris against his abs while my fingers got lost in his wet hair.

He laid me down on the bed and unbuttoned my shirt. I wasn’t wearing a bra.

He said that I was still as gorgeous as when he first met me. And that I was a beautiful butterfly.

I told him that without sunlight, I’d never shine bright. He just smiled and replied that it was okay, that it was enough if he could take pleasure in my lazy beauty.

Chase kissed me passionately, then let himself down between my legs, his cock hard against my thin, wet cotton panties. He kneaded my breasts softly, enjoying how my body raged with lust, full of aching tension, yearning for him. I wanted to feel him in me. I tilted my hips and rubbed myself against his cock. My lower belly was filled with sweet, twinkling warmth, and tense, impatient desire.

My limbs grew heavy. My body released endorphins and I wished the feeling lasted forever. However, I still knew once I orgasm, I’d be the same lonely girl as before, full of darkness.

I chased pleasure, then I took control of my body and slowed down before I’d come. My resolve held right until Chase peeled my black lace panties off. As soon as his cock slid into me, I lost control. He was in control, determining the pace. He fucked me passionately—the shabby bed creaked from the momentum of his powerful thrusts.

The wooden frame cracked, but he didn’t care. He thrust his hips forward—and I met him. My room filled with our heady, sweet scent.

Chase didn’t have time to get dry—soon, a thin layer of sweat replaced the water drops from the shower.

I reached down with my hand to make myself feel even better, but Chase suddenly turned around and made me sit on him. I blinked in surprise, and my breasts moved up and down slowly. In that position, he was in me deeper than ever. I’d never been on top before.

He slid my checked shirt off gently. His eyes and fingers explored my body, and he drank in the sight of me with awe—as always.

When he looked into my eyes, his words tore me apart. The pink clouds dispersed and were replaced with nothing but endless loneliness.

“Take it back, Grace! Take back what I took from you!”

My eyes filled with hot tears, but I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself and started moving my hips.

I was getting closer and closer to climaxing. I panted, gasping for air, rubbed my clitoris against his body while my hot tears fell on his skin. I moaned and sniffed—enjoying having sex with him and hating it at the same time, just like I hated him and myself.

“You’re good,” he whispered gently. The feeling in my sex grew stronger and stronger—his encouraging words and gentleness warmed up not only my vagina but my heart, too.

Fuck you. I raged in my head, but I could no longer stop.

I closed my eyes, lifted my head toward the sky, and let those few seconds take me away. Away from that room, from that life—and from Chase Baker.

After he came, too, I got off his dick. Our hot wetness trickled down my thigh. I looked down at him, hate in my eyes and heart.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, and cupped my wet face in his palm. “You’re gorgeous, Grace. You think you can’t shine bright here, but you are wrong, because you are the light yourself. That’s why you can’t see the light—you are it.”

I collapsed onto his chest and kept crying. I was tired and confused. On my better days, I was fine and managed not to work myself up, but on my worse days, I would’ve given anything to be free. I missed my parents, my siblings, and Daisy—very much.

I fell asleep—and movement woke me up. Chase wanted to untangle himself from our embrace. I lifted my head and watched him sleepily. Exhaustion had left wrinkles around his eyes—he cannot have slept a wink.

I looked down at his lips and kissed him. Our kiss started slow and melancholic, then filled with passion. It turned into long, gentle touches and caresses—then I gave myself to him, voluntarily again. This second time, however, was not driven by pain or revenge, but by something far more interesting, valuable, intimate, and dangerous: love. Because that night, Chase was never inconsiderate and did nothing to show me who was in charge, and who was the captor and who was the captive. He treated me as a gentle lover.

We made love twice—and I enjoyed both.