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The only item of clothing remaining was the sheer tank top that was underneath the shirt. A little bit of cold managed to sneak in while the door was open, and it made my nipples erect.
And Micah found that out very quickly. His hands were cold, too, and he enjoyed my shivering underneath his fingertips.
He was caressing my tits, almost as if he’d never seen them. That fascination was always very odd to me. It was nothing that exciting, yet he was like a deer in headlights. Squeezing, pinching and stroking them.
His hand traveled down to my pussy, groaning when he felt just how wet I’d become in such a short amount of time. I spread my legs before I heard his belt fall to the ground, followed by the sound of his pants unzipping.
Soon enough, he had me pressed against the window, my back arched.
The moment I felt his tongue on my clit, my eyes closed.
The sounds coming from my mouth embarrassed me, but I couldn’t stop them. He knew how to use his fucking tongue, and where to put pressure, just enough to make my entire body shiver, but not enough to completely throw me over the edge. He didn’t want me to come just yet.
He grabbed my hips, forcing my body onto his face. He didn’t stop making me feel good, not even when I begged him to stop. I didn’t want to come on his tongue, I wanted us to climax together. It would likely be the last time and I wanted to feel that thrilling excitement as my final memory with him.
‘‘I’ll never forget the way you taste, Bambi,’’ he groaned. He put pressure into his sucking, making my legs tremble. ‘‘Your cunt tastes so fucking good.’’
I couldn’t find the words to respond. I only whimpered when I felt him make distance between us, light wind blowing onto my sweet spot as he moved.
And soon enough, he made me scream enough to alert the rest of the world, let alone any possible cops lurking nearby.
In a strong, swift motion, he was deeply inside of me, stretching me to the fullest. My cheek was pressed against the window, my hands on the curtain. I could barely hold myself, especially after the sudden intrusion.
‘‘So tight,’’ he grunted. ‘‘So fucking perfect.’’
He was gripping my hips so tight that it was not only going to bruise, but it felt as if he’d snap the bones inside. Yet, I couldn’t get enough of it.
I wanted to be able to remember him. I wanted to feel it all until it would get scarred onto me, unable to wash off with time. I wanted to feel the roughness of his skin, his cock deeply inside of me. I wanted him to hurt me beyond repair. I wanted to remember all the things he’d done to me and my body and to relive them every single night, in my dreams.
I arched my back a little more. Micah grabbed a fistful of my hair, before positioning me up. Then, he bit my neck harshly. This time, it was enough to draw blood. It trickled down my shoulder, and Micah was quick to lick it, before kissing that spot.
‘‘You’re taking my cock so fucking good, Storm,’’ he spoke, his jaw clenched. ‘‘You’ll remember me, right? You’ll remember the way you were coming on my cock, because no other will ever be able to make you feel like this. I’ll fill your cunt so much that you’ll feel my cum inside of you for days after. I’ll make sure you never forget me, Bambi.’’
‘‘Please,’’ I begged. ‘‘Ruin me. Break me. Make me yours.’’
For a brief moment, he stopped. And that was when I heard the most animalistic sound to ever come out of Micah’s mouth. He put his hand on the small of my stomach and my eyes flew open.
Grabbing my chin with his free hand, he forced my eyes outside.
‘‘Look, Bambi,’’ he whispered, a layer of evil tracing his soft words. ‘‘One of them is still alive.’’
I glanced at the two cops that lay on the snow, and one of them brought his head up. His gun was too far away to reach, and since he’d been injured, there was only so much that he could’ve done. But he did grab his walkie-talkie and started speaking.
He was too far for me to hear, but his eyes were on me. Not on Micah, not on his dead partner — on me.
Well, the sight was definitely…unique.
A kidnapped girl willingly having sex with her captor. And the state I was in wasn’t that admirable either. Naked from stomach down, and with my tits hanging out of the tank top. My hair was in the biggest mess ever, and my cheeks were flushed.
And the man had a perfect display of Micah’s cock going in and out of me.
Micah made sure to reposition us where the cop could witness it. I should’ve stopped it, but each time I even thought about it, Micah would forcefully slam into me, making my clit ache for more. I didn’t want it to end.
If I was lucky enough, the cop would die before the rest of them came.
And if I wasn’t — I was still an author. I already had an entire story in mind, so if this cop decided to open his mouth, I’d lie, gaslight and try to manipulate my way out of it. There was no chance in hell I was going to prison as an accomplice in Micah’s killings.
Because technically, that was exactly what I was.
