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As we lumbered back across the trail that we came from, he planted his hand on my arse to secure me. And the warm gush between my legs forced me to press my thighs together.
What the fuck was wrong with me? This man had kidnapped me, tied me up, held me against my will, chased me down, basically hunted me, and somehow, he still made my clit throb? Fuck me.
Yes, fuck you, indeed.
No, not like that.
But my body wasn't listening, because his hand, big enough to practically cover a whole cheek, cupped my arse gently, and I did not have a small arse.
Fucking hell. I did not want to think about just how big his hands were. I did not want to think about what he could do with those hands.
He can just as easily choke you out. Which is not what we want.
This was true. He could choke me out. He could hurt me. Not in a fun, kind of sexy way. If he had his way, I was going to die in captivity.
I was so screwed.
No, he's going to take you back, and you're going to find another way to escape. That's all this is. Rest up. Then fight again.
Could I do that? Fight again? How much fight did I have in me?
So I slumped into his hold. The sun had already started to set, and the orange and purple sky had dimmed mostly into purple now. Soon it would be dark, and I hadn't gotten far.
I worried as we started going down the slope of the ravine when his hand was even firmer on my arse. Was he massaging? The hold was gentle but firm.
No, he just doesn't want to drop you.
But fuck, it was the way he was holding me. As if I could infer tone from a grasp. What was wrong with me? Was this some fucking Stockholm bullshit?
No. If you survived your mother, you can survive this.
Are you there God? It’s me Daphne. Please let me be right about surviving. And while you’re at it, can you please give me a better escape plan?
And I wouldn't cave. He thought he could break me, but he had no idea where I'd come from or what I’d been through.
He carried me across the field to the car he’d left on the side of the road. No one would see him with me now. As we approached the car, I squirmed a little, hoping maybe I could get free and dart back into the woods somehow.
A swat on my arse came so fast and quick that I gasped. "Stop it. You're only going to hurt yourself. That is not my fucking intention."
I wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that I'd been spanked like a child or the fact that I was pretty sure I was wet.
Or even worse, I think he knew it, because his hand soothed the spot where he’d smacked me. And fuck me, I was so close to coming. I might die if I didn't.
You will not come for him. Swear to fucking God, over your dead body.
When we reached the car, I assumed he was going to shove me into the backseat. Would he handcuff me? Or worse, zip-tie me?
But no, instead of the backseat, he opened the boot and bent over to put me in. I launched myself at him, wrapping my body around his. "No. No, please God, no. Not there."
He attempted to peel me off, but I hung on like a baby kitten, all claws and terror, refusing to be put into the carrier.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you? I can't trust you being in the car with me. You could use the seatbelt to choke me out."
I stilled for a moment. "That's a thing?"
"I'm not telling you that answer. Now, get in the fucking car. I don't want to knock you out."
I held on tighter, locking my feet. Problem number one, there were no cars to see me. Problem number two, there was no one around to hear me. Problem number three, I couldn't be locked in the boot.
