Wild Nights (Hell's Highway MC) (10 page)

“I need to have that again,” he said. “Shit’s so damn good.”

I wanted to die. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want him inside me. I didn’t want him touching me. But I had no choice. I was a prisoner.

I glanced down and saw his naked cock growing harder by the second, and his hands were growing more and more aggressive with my restrained body. I wondered if he really got off on this sort of thing more than anything else. I’d heard of men like him, men who loved to overpower women and have their way with them.

I closed my eyes to hide the tears that were starting to fall as he continued touching me all over. His hands slipped under my top then under my bra cups, fondling my breasts. He leaned up and placed one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it to the cool night air.

He crawled up closer to my face and bit and sucked my neck. I was sure he was going to leave marks. He nibbled on my ear for a bit, then kissed my mouth.

“Kiss me back,” he instructed. I knew better than to disobey him, especially in that situation.

As much as I hated myself for it, I kissed him back. I parted my lips and let his tongue wrestle mine as our lips moved in tandem.

Suddenly he crawled off of me, took a deep breath and rolled over.

“I’m tired,” he said. He reached up and turned the light off and clicked off the T.V.

The room was pitch black and silent, except for the sound of him snoring away after a few minutes. I wondered if he lost interest in me because I kissed him back. He probably liked the struggle.

I laid awake most of the night, trying to rack my brain on what I could say or do to get out of that situation. Eventually the fatigue of the day set in, and I was out cold.

“Here, eat this,” he said as he shoved a strip of greasy bacon into my mouth. Grease dripped down the corners of my lips, and I wished more than anything that my hands were free to wipe them.

He held a glass of orange juice up to my lips and forced me to take a sip. I hated orange juice, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I was just grateful to have some kind of liquid to drink at all. I was beyond parched.

My hands were numb and asleep from being strapped to the bed since the day before. It was ridiculously absurd that I was being fed breakfast by the very man who kidnapped me, but I was thankful just to have food in my stomach. I hoped this was a step towards us seeing eye to eye. He was treating me like a human for once. He couldn’t be all that bad, right?

He finished feeding me the rest of the items on the try, which he’d so lovingly brought to me from the motel’s deluxe continental breakfast, and scooted up next to me back on the bed. He cuddled up to me, his arm under my back, and switched on the T.V. He flipped it to some morning news show, and for the first time in almost a day, things felt somewhat normal. The morning news show reminded me of being at home. I’d always watch it when I got ready for work or on my days off. It served as a nice, yet temporary distraction in that moment.

I tried to ignore his arm around my back as I watched celebrity after celebrity get interviewed and listened to some travel guru’s tips for traveling with kids. None of it mattered, but in that moment, it all served a purpose.

“I really have to pee,” I said to him as I noticed my bladder beginning to ache. It was already past nine in the morning. I hadn’t peed in almost a full day. The orange juice had gone right through me.

“Now?” he asked. He seemed annoyed.

“Yeah, now!” I said. “Unless you want me to pee all over the bed.”

“No, no, no,” he said as he scrambled up. I saw him fishing around on the floor next to the bed and he stood up with a bed pan. He was fucking serious about the bed pan.

“I’m not peeing in that,” I said. “No.”

“It’s your only option right now,” he said. “I’m not untying you just yet.”

My bladder ached and burned, and I was pretty sure I only had another couple minutes before it would burst. I didn’t have time to argue with him.

“You really want me to pee in that?” I said as I glared into his eyes. “You going to wipe me too? Like a fucking baby?”

I could see him growing more and more frustrated at me. He reached into his back pocket and whipped out a knife to cut the duct tape off my wrists. He never let go of me once the entire time. As soon as I was free, I was still his prisoner. He clenched onto my arm and escorted me to the bathroom, which was in the back of the motel room, far away from the door.

I fumbled with my buttons and zipper, as my hands were still numb, and finally got my pants down. He stood in the doorway, taking up the entire space, and watching my every move.

The moment I sat down on the pot, it came gushing out of me like a waterfall. It was the most incredible feeling in the entire world.

“You really did have to go, huh?” he said with his arms crossed as he continued to watch.

I glared up at him, ignoring his comment. I stood up to wipe.

“Where are you going?”

“Um, I’m wiping…”

“Oh, okay,” he said, still blocking the door.

I flushed the toilet and pulled my pants back up.

“Is it okay if I wash my hands?” I asked him.

He grabbed onto the crook of my arm and escorted me to the sink where I washed up. The moment I was done, he marched me back over to the bed, grabbed his duct tape, and tied me back up exactly the way I was. I debated fighting him, but I knew he had an arsenal of weapons hidden around the room. I knew he was a mastermind and had everything figured out. And I knew he’d probably kill me before he let me escape out that door.

“Now, Molly,” he said as he looked me sternly in the eyes. “I’m going to untie you so you can shower and get ready.”

It had been at least 8 hours since I’d last been able to get up and move around. He’d fed me another meal, fast food cheeseburgers and fries, and groped me again in that time span. My living nightmare hadn’t evolved to anything better or worse just yet. I knew it was only the beginning.

He reached down on the ground and pulled up a suitcase of stuff. I recognized the suitcase. It was mine. From home.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked him.

“Your closet,” he said, matter-of-factly.

He threw it on the bed and unzipped it. I recognized everything in there. It was like he just took a crapshoot of clothes from my drawers and closet and threw it all in there. I also recognized all my toiletries in the mesh toiletry section. He was like he’d just grabbed everything or cleared off my bathroom counters and tossed it all in there.

As fucked up as it was, it felt good in that moment to have those comforts of home. They gave me hope, a hope that eventually I could return there and my life would be normal again. I just had to survive for now.

He moved the suitcase over to the bathroom and kicked it in, sliding it across the floor. He strutted back over to the bed, whipped out his trusty knife, and cut the tape around my wrists. He grabbed me by the arm once again and escorted me to the bathroom.

“Leave the door open,” he said.

“I can’t shower in privacy?” I retorted.

He said nothing as he grabbed onto a chair and pulled it in front of the bathroom door. He really wasn’t going to let me out of his sight, not even for one minute.

It was degrading to say the least, but I followed his orders. I stripped my clothes off as he watched, and I flipped the shower on. Steam soon filled the air, and I stepped inside. I let the water drip down me, washing me clean, giving me a fresh start, and making me feel human again, if only for a few minutes.

I grabbed a bottle of the motel shampoo and lathered up my long, blonde hair. Normally I’d travel with my own shampoo and conditioner, and I’d complain about how horrible this stuff was, but in that moment, it just felt good to have clean hair. That was all that mattered.

I took the bar of soap and ran it over every square inch of my body. I massaged it into my calves, my stomach, and my breasts. I ran it over my face, my neck, and my ears as well. Every place that Blaze had kissed me or bitten me, was then washed clean.

“You about done in there?” he called after just a few minutes.

“Just getting started,” I called back.

I could hear him huffing and puffing. He probably didn’t like the fact that I was “free” in that moment. He didn’t like me to be unrestrained. He didn’t trust me enough yet. I wondered if I could gain his trust if he’d give me a few more liberties and let me roam free.

I had taken drama classes in high school. I knew I could act. If I had to save my life, I would do it. I would pretend to see things his way. I would pretend to love him. I would agree with everything he said. It was my only way, and I knew it. If I kept opposing him, he would just treat me worse and worse.

Men liked him liked to control women like me. I was going to let him control me if that’s what it was going to take. I needed to make him trust me or better yet, believe me. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I knew I could do it.

I emerged from the shower dripping wet and lingered in front of him for a bit before drying off. I did it all on purpose, of course, as I knew he was watching my every move still. I grabbed some motel lotion from near the sink and began massaging it into my skin, rubbing my breasts and ass as sensually as I could.

From the corner of my eye, I could see him readjusting himself and repositioning himself in the chair. I knew I was turning him on. My little plan was working.

“Getting a little hot and bothered there,” I said as I turned to him and winked.

He said nothing as he was probably wondering where the hell this new Molly was coming from.

I leaned down into my suitcase and rifled through the underwear he’d packed. From the looks of it, it appeared he’d thrown in my nicest, sexiest stuff from my good lingerie drawer. Some of that stuff I hadn’t worn since I was with Jeremy.

“Hm,” I said as I rifled through it. “Pink or black?”

I held up two pairs of lacy panties and let him decide.

“Pink or black?” I asked him. He was definitely caught off guard, and I loved that.

“Black,” he said as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

I slipped them on as sexily as I possibly could as he took it all in. I purposely left my bra off while I applied my makeup and did my hair. He watched me the whole entire time, never once leaving my sight.

When I was all done up, I turned towards him and walked right up to his lap. I slowly lowered myself onto my knees, rubbing my body against his as much as possible, and started working on his belt buckle.

I sure as fuck didn’t want to fuck him, but I’d suck his cock if it got me in his good graces.

“What’s this?” he asked with a coy smile.

I said nothing as I grabbed his hardening cock out of his pants and pulled it to my mouth. I licked and twirled my tongue around it, sucking hard on the head. I heard him moan as he threw his head back and let his arms drop to his side.

I took the whole thing in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down, cupping his balls, and massaging the shaft.

“Fuck, Molly,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

I moaned a little, giving him a bit of a hummer, and continued sucking. I could tell he was trying to make himself last longer than usual. I was sure it was on purpose, but I didn’t care. I was going to keep playing his little game and focusing on my end goal.

After several long minutes, I could tell he was getting close. I could feel him trying to fight it, so I rubbed my breasts up against him and reached my free hand up to massage his rippled chest.

“Oh, Molly,” he moaned again. “Ahh.”

I moaned harder, hoping the vibrations from my mouth would be all that was needed to send him over the edge. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Soon I could feel him pulsing and three quick shoots later, his cum was dripping down the back of my throat. I swallowed it all at once, then sat up and planted the fakest smile I possibly could on my face. I wanted him to think I enjoyed it, even though truthfully I felt dirty, disgusting, and revolted in that moment.

“What was that about?” he asked as he shoved his cock back in his pants and zipped up.

“I don’t know,” I said with a fake, coy tone. “As crazy as you are sometimes, I guess I just can’t resist you. We have this amazing chemistry, you and me.”

I was lying through my teeth and praying to God that he’d believe me.

He stood up and came face to face with me, planting a hard kiss on my mouth. I hoped things weren’t going to progress from there, but I was fairly certain he was drained in more than one aspect of the word, so I figured I was safe.

He nodded back over to the bed.

“You really have to tie me up again?” I asked. I was in shock.

“For now,” he said.

I played along with his psychotic little game and threw myself back over on the bed, completely forgetting that I was in nothing but my black, lace panties.

“Can I get dressed at least?” I asked.

“What for?” he asked with a devilish grin. “I like looking at you.”

I laid on the bed as he maneuvered my arms and wrapped my wrists with tape again, securing each arm to a bed post. My breasts were fully exposed, and I’m sure he was enjoying every minute of it.

Maybe my surprise blow job hadn’t worked that quickly, but I knew it was a step in the right direction as long as I could keep my mouth shut a bit longer. I had to do whatever it took to stay on his good side.

“I’m going to go jump in the shower now,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He stood there, hands on his hips like he’d just shot a prize buck, and stared at my mostly naked body before strutting off to the bathroom.

He, too, left the door open while he got ready, probably so he could hear if anything crazy was going on outside the bathroom.

I laid there, in the mostly dark room. The T.V. wasn’t on and the silence was almost deafening.

Five short minutes later, he emerged with a towel around his waist and his hair dripping wet. I hoped to God it wasn’t going to be a repeat of the night before. I was in a prime position for the taking, that is, if he really wanted to take me.