Caught In The Shadow [Jenlisa]

Chapter Nine -

Lisa

I had been surprised at the lengths to which my captive had agreed to go in order to stay out of 'her room'. What the fuck was I thinking. I knew this was the last thing I should be doing, inviting her into my space. The girl already worked her way much too far into my thoughts. The longer I was near the girl, the less I seemed capable of trusting myself. Especially now, when every glance at her triggered the memory of her quivering beneath me, wanting more and never realizing it. She had come a long way from the timid girl I'd met on the streets of Los Angeles. What I had done was wrong, somewhere inside me I knew that and still I couldn't say with any sincerity I wouldn't do it again given the chance. Or that I didn't want to do it again. There was just something about her, something I wanted to taste and touch. Something I wanted to claim. This was the first time she had ever offered me anything and I was hard pressed to refuse.

An unexpected shiver ran down my spine and my cock instantly lengthened. While my mind had doubts about what I wanted, my body apparently did not. I closed my eyes, trying to feel what she must be feeling as she stood a few feet away blindfolded and shaking slightly. I felt the cold tile under my bare feet, smelled the crisp scent of the candles in the air, and tasted the slightest trace of sweat on my lip. I wanted to taste her sweat. I wanted to do anything to distract me from the debacle at the kitchen table.

It had been a mistake to ask her all those questions. I didn't really want to know. I especially loathed all that talk about mothers. I had said my mother was dead. And she could be for all I knew. Regardless, she was dead in all the ways that mattered. My passion instantly cooled at the memory of her pitying expression. Fuck pity. I didn't need it. I didn't need anything from anyone, least of all her. Liar.

I potentially had a mother out there and according to the girl, she might still be missing her. Why couldn't I remember her? I felt, somewhere, very distantly, I had once...loved her? But I felt nothing when I thought of her now. It was...unsettling. Breaking free of my frustrating and perplexing thoughts, I refocused my attention on the girl.

I smiled to myself as I looked at her, standing in the grandeur of the oversized, old-world bathroom. In some countries it could be its own home. She stood a few feet away blindfolded and vulnerable. But this was her choice. Her shapely and tremulous form rekindled my softening erection. She couldn't possibly know the effect she had; my little innocent captive. Her hair was absolutely unruly, having been left to dry on its own after their bath. It was as untamed as the girl, and almost as alluring.

Before entering my room, she had become increasingly bashful. I suspected the reason. I had released my pleasure inside her, and then she had eaten a large meal and gotten drunk. It didn't take a genius to figure out why she was suddenly talking her way out of my room, when she had worked so hard to get an invitation. She was very cute when she was drunk. But then, she was always cute, inebriated state aside.

But in the end, she'd gone with me. Trusted me to take care of her as I'd promised.

She gasped at the sound of me snapping the table into place, and I wondered what she thought it could possibly be. I nearly groaned when I spied her nipples tautly pressed against the satin of her nightgown, all but entreating me to take them into my mouth and suckle them until her body succumbed to remorseless shudders. I sighed. What the hell was wrong with me? After leaving Tehran I had glutted myself on women. Done everything I had ever fantasized about doing. I'd been with so many women and yet none of them had ever affected me the way she did.

If the first lesson every slave had to learn was to accept that their wishes did not matter, then the first lesson every master had to learn was not to be a slave to their own desires. The logic was simple, to command a slave, you must command yourself.