Abduction (37 page)

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Authors: Varian Krylov

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

BOOK: Abduction
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“I realize you are disinclined to believe me, so I’ll offer you a bit of proof.” Facing Vaughn, with Devan between them, Conrad pressed his right hand down on the small of her back, forcing her to raise her bottom slightly. Then, in the manner of scout’s honor he held two fingers up for Vaughn to see before lowering his hand between Devan’s legs. He gently pushed his two fingers inside her, then slowly pulled them out. He showed Vaughn two glistening fingers.

“You see? While I don’t deny that all of this gives me great pleasure, I want to assure you that Devan’s pleasure matters a great deal more to me. And while you may not agree with my method, you can’t deny that I achieve my ends.” He had made a plan. But as he looked at Vaughn, pale, trembling, miserable, a fresh thought occurred to him. A wicked grin widened his mouth.

“Stand up, Devan.”

She stood, trying not to let Vaughn see that she was in pain, and Conrad turned her to face him. She saw his cruel smile. And at the edge of her vision, Vaughn.

Conrad’s arm curled about her waist, pulled her tight against him. Then his hand was on her thigh, sliding up, gliding between her legs. She stiffened. God, how could she endure it? Knowing Conrad would touch her so intimately with Vaughn right there, seeing everything?

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Conrad’s fingers tickled over the soft smooth skin of her inner thigh, brushing upward, touching her sex. She felt his delicate touch lightly grazing her lips, caressing a little before gently spreading them, a single finger sinking between, into her moist heat, slowly stroking along her wet folds, sliding against her clit, making her tremble reluctantly. Then his fingers were inside her, pulsing rhythmically, his palm brushing over and over her. Already, within seconds, she was succumbing to his touch. She could not bear it, to surrender to him with Vaughn just feet away, watching. But she could not resist. She could not thrust him away because of her fear of what her disobedience would mean, and if she could not end his touch she could not be indifferent to it.

She could not take Vaughn’s eyes upon her as she was defeated by Conrad’s caress. Already she was melting under that touch. She was ashamed, and in her embarrassment she clung to Conrad, hiding her face from Vaughn’s eyes as the excitement she could not evade expanded, overtook her, overwhelmed her. Her hands and her face pressed against Conrad’s chest, the thrill of her captor’s touch swept over her in successive waves, carrying her far, far away from Vaughn and the nascent affection that had been flowering between them.

As she came—not quite succeeding in her effort to be silent about it—and after, Conrad held her to him, savoring the delicate pleasure of her bittersweet climax and Vaughn’s pathetic torment. For while Devan had turned away, hiding from his gaze, Conrad had watched his face, second by second, as he held Devan to him, as he touched her, bringing her to orgasm. He had watched as Vaughn’s seething wrath 333

 

metamorphosed into confused torment as he took Devan from obedient submission to ultimate pleasure. For Conrad this was nirvana.

He wanted more.

334

EIGHT: A Heart of Darkness

 

They were both staring at him, Devan seemingly trying to read his mind, Vaughn somehow managing to hold on to that perpetual glare of violent hatred without which, at this point, he'd be almost unrecognizable. Fun this. Being the center of attention.

Conrad gave his hostages a little grin and went back to his reading.

Delicious. Indescribably gratifying, not to mention damned fucking arousing, reading this new diary of hers. Her familiar hand, slanting so narrow and spare, her familiar diary voice, not like her prose voice. All about them. The things he'd said to her.

The way he'd touched her. How he'd made her feel. All those moments they'd shared, gathered up together on the pages in his hands, giving themselves up to him, every little sensation and emotion he'd guessed at as he guided her from one experience to the next, laid bare for him.

And then the cabin. Tom and his fucking droogs. He should never have taken her there.

But it was all right now. Better than all right. Really bloody interesting, this new…situation.

Conrad closed the cover on Devan and Vaughn's odd little burgeoning romance.

"Well, well, sweet Devan. It seems you wanted me to fuck you, after all."

Her burrowing gaze withdrew, and her hot cheeks and stunned eyes made her look as if she'd just been slapped.

"I suppose I could take this" he held up the diary, "as that invitation I've been waiting for."

335

Her little mouth was so pretty, with those softly parted lips, whenever she panted like that. He stood, stepped over to her, offered his hand, waited until she reluctantly took it, and drew her up from the sofa. Vaughn's hot stare only piqued Conrad's arousal as he turned her away then pulled her hard against him, feeling his stiff cock pressing eagerly against her scantily covered bottom.

"How does that sound, Devan?"

He pressed his hand to her belly and drew it slowly up, until the curve of his thumb and forefinger met the curve of her breast. He relished the tense anticipation of her body as she waited in vain for a more intimate caress. Down. His hand slid down, slipped under the hem of her gown, and teased her, fingering the border of her knickers just at the tempting crease where thigh meets pelvis.

"Hmmm? Are you ready for a nice, slow, sensuous fuck?"

He would have bet that her lovely gray eyes had gone bright with tears but he knew, knew absolutely, that his words made her wet elsewhere, as well—Vaughn or no Vaughn.

"I think you are, darling."

With one long, slow tilt of his hips he slid his stiff prick along the tempting crevasse between her pretty, round ass cheeks.

"Let's not rush things, though."

Conrad let her go and returned to his armchair.

"For starters, Devan, how about a nice blowjob?"

336

He watched that just-slapped look alter her features again, but it was a memory almost before he was sure it was real. Her momentary shock morphed into stoicism, then into something he'd never seen with her. Brazenness.

She strode to him, one corner of her mouth subtly raised. Her eyes locked on his, she dropped to her knees and reached for his fly.

"Well," Conrad said, catching her hand in his, "aren't you the eager little vixen all of a sudden?"

Somehow those dark eyes of hers didn't match her confident little smirk.

"Don't think I'm not touched by your enthusiasm. But I can't help wondering what's brought it on. Besides…" He turned from Devan's perplexed visage toward her ever-enraged lumberjack. "…we haven't decided yet who should receive your…attentions."

There, that changed his expression.

"We can't just leave Vaughn eternally cuffed to the door while you and I have all the fun, now can we, Devan?"

Ah, the poor girl. Just when she'd mastered herself. Ready to cry again.

Back to Vaughn.

“Now, I’m going to ask Devan to release you from your bonds. But I warn you…” With a smile he waved the tranquilizer gun before Vaughn. "…if you're not nice and cooperative, as Devan's learned to be, you'll feel the sting of a couple more darts. And when you wake up, I promise, you'll find yourself, and Devan, in a much more challenging predicament." He turned to Devan. “Go ahead and uncuff him, love.” 337

 

She stood and, with an unsteady hand, took the small key being proffered by Conrad, then walked over to Vaughn. After a long, serene gaze she began working the tiny key in the metal cuffs.

“Devan—”

“Please be quiet, Vaughn. I can’t have the two of you chatting just now. Tell him, Devan.”

“Vaughn,” she said in a soft, sweet voice, pressing a palm to his cheek, “just do everything Conrad asks, and everything will be all right. And don’t—” Conrad cut her off. “Come back over here by me now, Devan. Vaughn can unlock the second cuff on his own.”

When Vaughn was free of the cuffs, Conrad instructed him to stand in the center of the floor, in the open space between the dining table and the hallway leading off to the bedrooms. Vaughn and Conrad stood, facing each other, Devan between them.

Conrad’s hands were resting lightly on her shoulders.

Vaughn’s body was a rock ready to shatter.

“I have a question for you, Vaughn. You’ve been living here, all alone, with this lovely girl, whom you’ve not fucked. Tell me—and be very sure you don’t lie, or it is Devan who will be punished for your transgression—have you been dreaming of the day when your sweet little Devan would take you in her mouth, and give you a nice, long blowjob?”

Rage and embarrassment flushed his face. He had imagined it. Of course he had. Over and over he had pictured her mouth on him, just as he had imagined going down on her.

338

Devan, next to naked before his eyes, gave Vaughn a small smile, half comforting and half suggestive, to encourage and guide his reply. Vaughn, remembering what Devan had written in her diary, mindful of the flogging he had witnessed a few hours earlier, believing Conrad would do something to Devan if he gave any other answer, said “yes.”

“Yes. Of course you have. It’s only natural, isn’t it, for a young, virile man like yourself to imagine a lovely girl like this, down on her knees, sucking you off. I suppose you’ve masturbated, thinking these sorts of thoughts?”

“Yes,” Vaughn growled through clenched teeth.

“What a fine, honest gentleman you’ve found yourself, Devan,” Conrad cooed in her ear, all the while keeping his lascivious eyes on Vaughn, watching his reaction. “I’m beginning to like him immensely. Vaughn, take a cushion from the couch, and bring it back to where you’re standing now.”

"No."

Damnit, it was hard not to smile at the poor fellow's futile challenge.

"No?"

"No," Vaughn repeated.

"Tell me something, Vaughn. Is it really the case that your imagination is so limited that you can't conceive of anything worse I might conjure up for the two of you?"

Conrad savored a quiet moment as Vaughn stood there, silently shaking.

"It would be no trouble at all, for example, to arrange to have you cuffed back to that door. Then, perhaps it would be fun to have Devan suck us both off." Vaughn's look of horror was really quite amusing. "Can't you just picture it? Sweet Devan down on her 339

 

knees, my cock in one hand, yours in the other, as her warm, wet mouth goes from your prick to mine and back again? Of course, that's an awful lot to ask of a girl as inexperienced as Devan, but I know she'd manage."

Conrad let Vaughn's lack of real options sink in for a moment.

"Now, if you don't want to bring out my really nasty side, I suggest you get that cushion."

Vaughn did as he was told.

“Now drop it at your feet.”

 

Jesus fucking Christ, what was the twisted fuck doing? Vaughn’s heart was racing with anger at not being able to stop this. God, poor Dev.

“Devan, go over and kneel on that cushion Vaughn has put there for you.” She knew where Conrad’s deviant mind was going, what was certainly about to happen, and she felt overwhelming fear rising up in her. She did not want it like this.

God, not like this. She could have borne the humiliation of it with Conrad alone, or her nervousness at the newness of it with Vaughn patiently, gently teaching her. But all of it mixed together, no. No, no, no. Her dread seemed to have drained all the blood out of her. She felt light and empty, like she might float off, unconscious.

But then she glanced at Vaughn. Oh, she wanted to cry, he looked more frightened, more miserable than she felt. There was no way of stopping this, of deterring Conrad from the thing he had planned. All she could do was do her best to make it easier on Vaughn. Holding Vaughn’s gaze with hers, silently willing him to accept what was happening, she approached him, then dropped to her knees before him.

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“Are you aware, Vaughn, that our sweet Devan has never had a prick in her mouth? Hmmm? That she’s never so much as held a man in her hands?

Conrad let that one go unanswered.

“For the sake of aesthetics, Vaughn, let’s have you take off your shirt.” He complied.

“Now, Vaughn, unbuckle your belt.”

His fingers trembled as he brought them to his buckle. With Devan kneeling there inches in front of him as he unfastened his belt, Vaughn could not suppress the stirrings of an erection. He hated Conrad for doing this to them. He hated himself.

“Now unfasten your trousers. Are you getting hard, Vaughn?” Vaughn was silent.

“Please don’t make me remind you again that your disobedience can only hurt Devan. Kindly answer my question. Are you getting hard?”

“Yes.”

His voice was broken with resentment.

“Don’t sound so upset, Vaughn, Devan would have been disappointed with any other reply. Now, pull out your cock and let Devan have a look.” His hands cold with fear Vaughn pulled the band of his boxers down below the base of his cock. It stiffened with a twitch in such proximity to Devan’s mouth, her full, soft lips. He hated this—the humiliation, the coercion, but God, the sight of her there, the thought of it, aroused him with terrible force.

She knelt there, watching as Vaughn unfastened belt and jeans, as he slid his shorts down. Then, when it emerged, as if through its own volition, a thousand 341

 

sensations and emotions seemed to bombard her at once. Some visceral urge tormented her, making her feel an immediate, urgent, yet vague need, while her body went warm all over and most especially her sex, suddenly throbbing with urgent excitement..

And fascination. She had seen pictures, of course. Hundreds, probably, as she had sought them out time and again in the glossy pages of books of photography, and less artistic renderings online. But this one was his, Vaughn’s. This thing brought him pleasure. She felt a kind of adoration for it, for being his, the way she loved all the parts of herself for being hers.

This thing that was a part of him seemed to her to be so like him—beautifully delicate and terribly powerful at once. The skin, unlike the skin on any other part of the body, looked so delicate and smooth, such vital shades of fleshly hues. And the way it seemed so alive before her, swelling and flushing and twitching, now and then, reminded her that it was the complement to that part of herself, so feeling that the very lightest touch could make her whimper in pleasure, and that such sensitivity deserved the most tender care.

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