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His Hostage(37)

By:Willow Winters


Yes! The plastic cracks even more, and I’m able to wiggle the blade out carefully. I raise the blade up to my eyes to look at the shiny, metal weapon. It’s small. Really fucking small. But maybe if I can catch him by surprise, I'll be able to hurt him enough to escape.

“Whatcha doing, sweetheart?” I jump at the sound of Vince’s voice and nearly drop the blade.

I stare at Vince from across the room. He sneaked up on me. How long has he been watching me? I don’t answer him. Instead I make a fist and position the blade in the space between two of my fingers so it’ll cut him when I swing.

We both know what I’m doing. My blood heats and rushes in my ears. My heart feels like it's trying to escape my body. It’s beating that wildly. But I ignore my heart and blood both. Vince’s gaze is hard and focused on me.

“You planning on hitting me, sweetheart?” He takes a step toward me and as much as I want to stand my ground, I instinctively take a step back. “You wanna hurt me, Elle?”

No. I don’t. I don’t want to hurt him.

“You wanna kill me baby, is that it?” I shake my head, but keep my eyes trained on him. I take another step back as he steps even closer. My back hits the wall. I’m cornered. Sweat covers my body with a chill.

“That’s not very nice. Here I am trying to help you.” He lunges for me and I try to hit him, but he grabs my wrist and forces my hand above my head. I scream and try to push him away as he twists my wrist and the blade slips through my fingers. Faintly, I hear the thin metal hit the tiled floor.

My body sags as he pushes his hard chest against me. I close my eyes and push my head against the wall. Sadness weakens my body.

He grips my jaw and forces me to face him, but I keep my eyes closed. I can’t look at him. “You were going to kill me, sweetheart? You wanted to kill me?”

I try to shake my head but I can’t. I try to speak, but with his hand on my jaw, I can’t.

“Look at me!” he yells into my face, and it forces a whimper out of me, but my eyes stay closed.

Without any warning, he leaves me. My body falls limp to the floor and my knee slams down against the tile. Fuck! I grab it and lay on my side as the pain shoots up my body.

“Fuck, Elle!” He bends down beside me and picks me up off the floor. I expect his anger, not for him to take me gently into his arms. I bury my head in his chest. I can’t take this. I’m not a person who can handle this kind of situation. I’m just breaking down. He walks me back over to the bed and sits down with me limp in his lap.

His hands pry my grip from my knee, and I watch his face as he looks it over, examining my injury. It’ll bruise, but I’ll be okay. It hardly hurts anymore. He’s looking at me like I got shot. The concern on his face just doesn’t make sense. He runs his fingers over the mark that will be a bruise. And then his dark eyes find mine. “You shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.” There’s a trace of a threat in his voice.

But there’s something else, much stronger. Something that makes my breathing pick up. My fingers itch to run along the prick of his stubble. I want to grab his hair and push his lips to mine. Maybe I just want comfort, maybe it’s something else. I don’t know, but I want him. I need him.

I may die any minute now. I’m not going to hold back. I reach up and grip his hair, pulling myself to him and crushing my lips against his. His lips are hard at first and he pulls back, looking shocked, but also guarded.

“Please,” I whisper. He answers by pushing my body against the mattress, keeping his lips on mine.

He pulls back and takes a shallow breath before asking me, “You think you can manipulate me with your pussy?” I shake my head. That’s not it. That’s not why.

“It’s not going to work, sweetheart.” He tries to pull away from me. And I can’t stand the distance. I need this. I need to feel his hard body against me.

“Please,” I beg again. If he denies me I don’t know what I’ll do. I feel sick with myself. But I won’t refuse this need. I have for so long. Not again. I can’t.

His hard body cages me in, and I find myself wanting more. Wanting to push him harder. His eyes spark with an unvoiced threat, but more than that--desire.

Yes!

“Please,” I say again, and pull his lips to mine. His tongue dives into my mouth. I suck his bottom lip. His hips spread my legs and I part for him. I still hurt, but I need this. I need to get lost in his touch. I need to feel something other than this hopelessness and despair. His hands move to my thighs and push the hem of my dress up to my waist. I moan into his mouth as his erection pushes against my clit.