Page 27 of Not Another Dark Romance

“Do you just start jerking off dry in silence? Damn, give me a minute. Actually, will you turn the audiobook back on? Chapter nineteen.”

Zane groans, but he’s already taking out his phone, and the book starts playing again. It’s the first penetrative sex scene, and it’s rough. My favorite. Zane has made no attempt to leave, so I take my dick out, growing harder and harder at the thought of his eyes on me while I stroke myself.

“Wait,” he shouts. “Let me turn around or something, Jesus.”

Zane heads up the stairs. I don’t hear him go all the way, but I don’t look either. I like the fantasy more where I imagine he’s watching me while he’s sitting there, pretending he isn’t interested in me even though deep down, I know he is.

Sitting on the edge of the air mattress, I scoot out of my pants fully but leave my shirt on since I couldn’t pull it off with the collar around my neck. The restraint adds another depraved layer to this that I absolutely love.

He didn’t give me any lube or lotion, so I use the only thing I’ve got: saliva. I gather some in my mouth before spitting on my hand and bringing it to my dick. The freedom of not having my wrists restrained after so long combined with the feeling of the wet glide feels amazing.

“Oooh fuck,” I moan as I begin to stroke myself, listening to the narration and imagining Zane hard on the stairs watching me, resisting giving in to his attraction to me.

I take my time, building a slow rhythm as I twist my wrist around the head of my cock, exactly how I like it, before gliding my palm back down. The audiobook’s narrator describes the character being pinned down, and I lean my head back against the support beam, closing my eyes and picturing Zane’s hand on my dick instead of my own. The rough, commanding voice from the speakers mixes with my own soft grunts of pleasure.

It’s extra filthy knowing the characters in the book are in the same situation we’re in right now. Doesn’t Zane get that? Isn’t he turned on right now? He might not have accepted that we’re inevitable yet, but this moment right here is still letting me live out some of my fantasies with him, and I absolutely love it.

I want to give him a show, so I shift, facing more toward the stairs where he could definitely see me if he’s watching—and fuck, I hope he’s watching. I spit again, this time right on my dick as the saliva dribbles out of my lips slowly. My hand continues to glide easily up and down over my shaft, thumb swiping my precum, adding it to the mix.

I need more though, so I shift around, leaning forward until the collar chain is being pulled tight enough that it causes my head to fall back, and I moan at the tension around my throat.

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Daddy. Just like that,” I say out loud, hopeful Zane can hear me as I imagine his hand around my throat as I get closer and closer to release. The pressure is building at the base of my spine, a tight coil of heat that promises an explosive orgasm. “God, yes,” I breathe out, my voice hoarse. “Choke me, just like that, Kidnap Daddy.”

I wonder if he can hear me from the stairs. I hope he can. I hope he’s rock hard in his jeans, fighting the urge to come down here and smack my hand away to take over. I bet he’s imagining what it’d feel like to be the one stroking me, to feel my dick pulse in his hand. The thought sends a jolt straight through me, and I have to slow down, squeezing the base of my cock to stop myself from coming too soon. I want to drag this out, to give him a show he won’t forget.

Except I can’t. This whole situation is turning me on too much, and I don’t have that much willpower, especially as I imagine him stomping down here and unzipping his pants and shoving his dick in my mouth. Fucking hell.

“Daddy, don’t you want to fuck my throat?” I call out as my strokes become faster, more desperate. The collar is tight around my neck, a constant reminder of my captivity, of his control. It’s fucking intoxicating. I’m completely at his mercy, even in this moment of supposed freedom, even without him touching me. “I’m so close. Need you.”

The narrator cries out in the story, and I follow suit, head tipped back as I finally let go. I come hard, thick stripes of creamy white painting my stomach as I ride out the waves of pleasure to thoughts of him. “Fuck, Daddy, so good.” My body trembles, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

For a moment, the only sounds are the audiobook continuing its story and my pounding heart as I lay here, utterly spent. Zane’s footsteps echo throughout the room only a second later, and he must’ve been watching to know I’m done.

The thought makes my dick twitch.

“You gonna help me clean myself up? This cum isn’t going to lick itself.”

“Don’t test me,” Zane snaps, but all I’ve done is test him, and it keeps working in my favor.

“Fine. But if you won’t lick me clean this time, perhaps a shower then? Don’t you want me to be clean? Or do you want to think about me lying here coated in my release?” I bat my eyelashes at him, still half naked on the air mattress with my softening dick out. He’s chewing his lip, so I press more. “You can handcuff us together, so that way you know I won’t run away. Pretty pleeease?”

Zane is definitely thinking about it, and knowing him, he’ll give in. I really don’t have any plans to run away. At least, not now. I’d love for him to chase me through the woods and pin me down to have his way with me soon, but we’re not there yet. I don’t actually want to be freed from him forever. Besides, Zane still has Piet here, and there’s no way I’d leave him.

“I’m only doing this because you’re already going to smell bad when I kill you, so a little soap wouldn’t hurt right now.”

Knew it.

“And don’t forget, I’m bigger than you, so I can easily pin you down and restrain you if you try anything,” he warns.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I tease.

Zane huffs as he digs into his pocket to get his keys out. He handcuffs me to him first with the longer original handcuffs, and the pain is right back in the wrist he clamped.

“Ow, Daddy, my wrists hurt.”

He ignores me as he unlocks the chain from my collar, leaving the base still locked to the pole. I love that he’s still letting me wear it.

“Tug on your boxers.”