Hostage of my Heart Ch. 04

A glimmer of light appeared in her eyes as Opal began to believe. She leaned her face into the warmth of his palm as she ran her own along the hard ridge on the bottom of his penis. The friction of the fabric between them and the heat of her palm made him groan, and he surrendered to his urges, ignoring the host of tiny voices in his head telling him not to hurry her. He couldn't wait one more second. He pulled Opal into his embrace and claimed her mouth.

Opal let herself lean into him, her arms encircling his waist as his hands caressed her spine. The kiss was hot, wet, and all-encompassing. For a few minutes, they existed in perfect, solitary peace. When Rand pulled his mouth away and tucked her head beneath his chin to hold her tightly, Opal closed her eyes and sighed in utter contentment. She'd never been happier than she was in that moment.

Soon, though, she became aware that her feet were wet and his calves were cold against her. She pulled away from him, a frown wrinkling her forehead. A puddle had formed on the boards around their feet, and his gray pants were black from the knee down. She folded into a ball at his feet, her hands on the ice-cold fabric.

"What have you done, you idiot?" Her voice was fierce.

She didn't even glance at his face as she grabbed his hand, pulling him along behind her as she strode quickly across the dining area and into the bathroom.

Rand grinned as she flipped the light-switch and pushed him down to sit on the toilet lid, then turned away to start the water running in her tub.

She fell to her knees and pulled his shoes off, tossing them back into the hallway as she muttered about the stupidity of men in general and Rand in particular. His socks became black spots by the vanity before she tugged him up to undo his buckle and fly. His trousers joined his socks and her hands went to his feet, which were white with cold.

"Oooo." She stood between his knees unbuttoning his shirt, her frown intact. "I swear, Rand--"

Rand put his arms around her hips and smiled up into her angry face, pulling her against him. He'd known her for barely two days, but couldn't imagine spending even one day without her in his life. "I love you, Opal. Marry me."

Her face softened momentarily, her eyes sparkling as she stroked the side of his battered, unshaven face. Then she pushed him away, feigning an angry look. "Why in the world would I marry someone too dumb to avoid freezing his feet off?"

Taken aback for a second, Rand caught a glimpse of her cheeks rounding as she bent her head to his buttons again, and he laughed, joy blooming in his heart. "Because you love me, too, minx."

Unable to help herself, Opal lifted her eyes to smile at him. "Minx?"

He laughed. "Yes. It's the first thing I thought when I saw you at the agency." He hugged her again. "That sparkling smile and those Audrey Hepburn eyes, your perky little ass under those pinstriped pants. Minx."

Opal laughed and tipped her head to kiss him. She wrestled out of his embrace before it got any hotter. She really was worried about his feet. "Enough." She pushed his shirt off his shoulders. "Up. You're getting in the shower before--"

When she slid his jockeys off his hips, his cock sprang free, and it was obviously not suffering from the cold. Opal's face reflected her feelings, an echo of the first time she'd seen him nude, and she angled a questioning look upward.

Rand laughed and finished removing the underwear himself, then reached for the zipper of her sweatshirt. "I think I might have a hard-on for the rest of my life, as long as you're in the same room."

Her hoodie fell open and his hands slid to her waist as her naked torso brushed against the organ in question.

"Mmm." She tipped her head back. "I can live with that."

Remembering the first time they were together, when he'd removed his shirt at the conference table, Opal stretched upward and let her tongue dart out to lick his nipple. Rand jumped.

Before she could torture him further, her clothing was in a heap on the floor next to his, and they were both in the shower. She pushed the door closed and shoved him under the water, glancing down to locate the switch for the plug, which she flipped with her toe so the warm water would rise around his ankles. That was all the time Rand gave her to think about his feet.

They kissed until she noticed him wincing from a cut inside his mouth, then argued about whether or not she was too sore to make love. Ten slippery minutes later, her back against the blue tile wall, Opal slid onto his erection, moaning and clutching at his shoulders. Rand gritted his teeth and held on through her first orgasm, but he joined her in her second, moaning a bass accompaniment to her alto song and collapsing with his face buried in her neck.

When he recovered, he set her on her feet with a kiss and began to wash her all over again. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I couldn't wait. I'll be better next time."

As he soaped her swollen folds, Opal's eyes widened. Better than the two mind-annihilating orgasms he'd just given her?

---- o ----

Over the next few months, Opal learned what Rand meant by that comment. He might be twice her age, but he could go for twice as long. The athleticism she'd seen in him before became even more pronounced at home, in the comfort of their own bedroom.

Most of the time, their lovemaking ended with Opal begging for mercy, while Rand grinned and made her come again. Sometimes he let her peel her body away to take him in her mouth: he couldn't resist her mouth, no matter how badly he wanted to torture her some more. His cock was so thick that she couldn't take the whole thing, but it drove him crazy when she squeezed the base in her fisted hand or embraced his shaft between her lovely breasts and suckled the head as he came.

They couldn't get enough of each other sexually. It was as though every other partner up until that point had been just a hint of what was possible, a mundane appetizer for the incomparable entree ahead.

For the first year, both Rand and Opal had nightmares about the captivity in which their romance had begun, but almost all of their fears shared a common theme-- they couldn't get to one another. They made a pact to wake each other immediately for comfort. What kind of comfort was up to the nightmare-e. Sometimes they talked; sometimes they kissed and cuddled; more often they wound up in a sweaty, orgasmic heap of exhaustion and contentment.

Rand wasn't surprised by the absence of night-time consequences he experienced after killing Dominic Sainte. Sainte had hurt Opal; Rand was glad the man was dead and felt no guilt for killing him.

Opal, though... Rand knew Opal had lingering feelings of guilt to accompany her fears, but she didn't want to talk about it. He made her. He wanted her to know, way deep down in her soul, that he wasn't turned off by her ability to respond to those men under those circumstances.

One at a time, he wheedled, begged, and stubbornly forced her into relating the story of every single orgasm she remembered having over the twenty hours of their captivity. When she finished, he'd re-enact them with her, doing whatever her rapist had done, minus the violence. "Like this?" he said, pushing her across his dining room table and watching her face as he forced her legs back toward her chest as Bob had done, his thumb on her clit.

"Harder," she'd answer, arching her back as he twisted her nipple, pretending to be Sainte. He called her honey or even slut, like Sainte had done, and made her repeat their names aloud. "Tell me what he was doing," he'd order as he fucked her, still pretending to be Bob.

She'd gasp and lean her head back. "He-- Sainte-- held my head and fucked my mouth."

"Deep?" Rand asked, slamming into her.

Opal grunted. "Uh, uh, yes... deep."

Rand hit her cervix every time he plunged inside, making them both think of Sainte's cock bumping the back of her throat.

"Uh.. uh... yes... so deep!"

"Did you swallow, honey?"

"Uhhhh, uhhh--" her moans were getting louder, more frenzied.

Rand lifted her hips, pulling her up until only the back of her head touched the table.

"Tell me, Opal!" he commanded, fucking her furiously, battering her poor pussy with the force of his thrusts.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! He came in my mouth and I took it all!!" The last word stretched into a scream and her cunt clamped down on Rand's thrusting cock. He thought he had another five or ten minutes left in him, but her explosion triggered his, and his roar of unplanned completion nearly drowned out her screams.

He collapsed across her, gasping for air until he had the breath to groan. "Jesus, Opal, your pussy is going to kill me."

She laughed and kissed the top of his sweaty gray head.

---- o ----

Rand almost always talked to her while they played, and most of it wasn't meant to be therapeutic. "They were all watching your pussy, Opal, wishing it was them. Even the girls wanted to touch you while I was fucking you that day."

She was lying on the coffee table in their new house.

"Can you feel their eyes on you?"

Opal pushed against his biceps, her upper body writhing as she tried to direct the swollen purplish crown brushing her entrance with no pressure at all behind it. He was driving her insane with his words and lack of movement.

Holding her firmly in place, Rand flicked one berry-red nipple with the tip of his tongue, just enough for her to feel the wetness. "Can you feel them looking at your tits as I fuck you, watching them bounce every time I slam my cock into your sweet, wet pussy?"

He sucked her other nipple into his mouth as she moaned, using his lips to mimic a pinch. "Imagine it, baby. Imagine those two pretty interns caressing your breasts, licking your nipples." He licked again, and she shuddered as Rand pushed inside her, still controlling the movements of her body.

She tried to draw him down with the legs locked around his waist, but failed to alter the outcome.

"Maybe one of them will touch you here." He worked his hand between their bodies and narrated what he was doing. "She'll run her finger up the middle of your slit, just testing your response."

Opal panted weakly, her head thrown back.

"Then she'd work you over-- all those soft little fingers pinching your tender clit, pulling, tweaking, rubbing your wet, wide open lips like this." He began to move his hips, fucking her slowly as he watched her face. "The girls sucking and pinching your nipples-- do it, Opal--"

Helplessly, her hands rose to cup her breasts, her fingers following his commands.

"Mmm-- just like that, baby-- you'd like that, wouldn't you, those two young girls working you over while I fuck your hot, wet pussy." Rand's thrusts increased in speed and depth as he began to lose control. "Sucking on your beautiful tits, flicking their fingers over your pretty pink clit faster and faster."

Opal whimpered as his cock stroked her into witlessness and her pussy clutched at him.

"Sucking on her finger to get it wet so she can slid it into your tight little asshole," Rand went on, his voice deep and rough. "Oh, yeah, I can feel her finger in your ass while I fuck you. You like that, baby? You like her fucking your ass with her slick little finger while you come? Sliding in and out of your ass?"

Opal came then, her legs gripping his waist as she lifted her hips, opening herself to his deepest thrusts, until Rand's liquid offering bathed her inner walls and they rolled exhausted onto the rug, holding each other as though their lives depended on the connection.

Rand spend a whole year working her up to the grand finale, a year in which he gradually introduced larger toys into Opal's nearly-virgin ass. "Sainte was right, hmm?" Rand asked, leaning to one side to watch her face as he slid his finger into her. "No one ever fucked your ass?"

Her eyes closed and lips open in a blissful O of surprise, Opal shook her head and whispered her reply, "No... no... that was... ooohhhhh..." she moaned as he began to alternate slow strokes of his finger in her oily ass with slow strokes of his cock in her slick pussy. "...the first time."

"What about this, baby?" Rand rotated his finger. "Anyone ever finger your luscious back door?"

"Oh, god," she wailed. "What are you doing to me, Rand?"

It might not be her first experience with anal sex, but it was the first time anyone had done it right, playing with her until she eagerly anticipated every penetration.

Rand loved teasing her.

Finally, after a year of fingers and dildos and a vibrating butt plug he made her wear in public while he retained custody of the remote control, Rand draped her over the big round bolster they kept at the head of their king-sized bed. This time he didn't pretend to be anyone else. When the head of his oiled-up cock slipped into her tiny pink pucker, he was just Rand.

Opal moaned, and he grinned through a grimace as her ass squeezed his dick. Moaning was good. He'd expected a shriek, despite months of preparation, an hour of foreplay, and nearly two glasses of wine for his light-weight wife. Her hands clutched at the sheets, but her thighs stayed loose.

He held himself still, stroking from her waist to her knees as she adjusted to the bulk of his penis stretching the small, tight hole. Sooner than he'd expected, she shifted, her bottom moving from side-to-side as she moaned again. "Okay?"

"Mmmmm." Opal had no words.

Rand worked another inch inside her, then withdrew slightly. Again and again, while he stroked the skin around their joining and finally bent forward to reach between her legs. The effort reminded him of their first lovemaking, when he'd forced his cock inside her on the conference table, and they'd both tried to pretend they weren't enthralled with one another. Thrumming his fingers on the swollen shaft of Opal's clit, Rand wedged the last inch of himself into her ass and rested there, his cheek against her sweaty shoulder-blades and three fingers quiescent between her lips.

She broke in only minutes, arching and groaning. "Rand, Rand."

He made her say it.

"Rand," she writhed helplessly around the invasion, needing a climax more than she needed her next breath. "Rand, please."

He nuzzled the back of her neck, not moving. "What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me."

She whimpered in frustration, speech evading her. "Rand..."

Finally she found the words he wanted to hear. "Fuck my ass, please!"

He did. Slowly, expertly, agonizingly, he fucked her into an orgasm so intense she blacked out for a few seconds. He felt her collapse, but didn't have time to worry.

"Baby," he rocked his hips, his cock still hard inside her, "are you okay?"

Opal smiled at the plea she knew he couldn't hear in his own voice. She turned her face to the mattress and pushed with her palms, arching her ass up to engulf as much of his cock as possible. "Mmmm." She had no trouble finding words that time. "Oh, god, yes, Rand... I want to feel you come in my ass. Please."

He groaned and did as she asked. He managed to pry his eyes open to watch his slick cock sawing in and out of her bottom, her ivory skin stretched taut around it, and was shocked that he, too, didn't pass out when he came.

Opal wouldn't let him pull out after, though he knew she must be sore. He rolled with her still atop him and locked his arms together across her ribcage, thinking he'd shift her to the side and let his cock slide free when she was sleeping.

Her hair spread over his throat as she reclined against him. Sometimes they fucked in the same position, and Opal always mentioned how vulnerable and out-of-control she felt with her legs splayed wide and her head leaning back like that. Rand wondered how much more acute that feeling must be with his cock buried in her ass instead of her pussy. Against his will he felt himself stirring. Spreading his palms over her stomach, Rand began to roll. "Opal, honey--"

She threw her hands out and braced her feet on the bed alongside his thighs, stopping him. Then she arched her back and tightened the muscles of her ass.

Rand groaned, his cock swelling and his hands going involuntarily to her breasts. "No, baby, we can't."

Opal's only response was another caress of her inner muscles.

His erection grew, filling her ass, and she trembled atop him. He tried again, his voice rough and pained. "Opal, sweetie, we--"

Hooking her toes beneath his knees for leverage, Opal sat up. She gasped as he penetrated more deeply than before, but took a deep breath and leaned forward. Bracing her hands on his thighs to lift her torso, she let a few inches slide out while she worked one foot at a time around until she was kneeling, facing away from him. Panting, she lowered herself slowly onto his cock again, until it was completely buried in her body.

Rand tugged a pillow into place, propping his head at an extreme angle. With his hands on her hips and her head thrown back, Opal's sweet ass sliding up and down on his cock was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. "Oh my god, Opal."

Even through the din of her own overloaded senses, Opal heard the near-strangled urgency of her husband's tone. Turning her head slightly, she repeated the motion, lifting her body until only his head remained inside her, then sliding slowly back down and curling her hips forward until he was as deep as he could be.

Rand groaned, sounding as though he was choking.

She rocked her hips again, her head falling forward. Was he, though? Was he really as deep as he could be? She spread her knees experimentally, arching and curling her spine. What if... she opened her eyes, blinking stupidly. Where the hell was a rope when you needed one?

She glanced around. Lounge pants, Rand had been wearing... ahh... there they were. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing his knees, and Rand groaned again, pushing his hips toward the ceiling.

Ahhh... that too, Opal thought. She snagged the pants and straightened, turning her head to one side.

"Rand? Baby?"

He groaned in reply, his eyes locked on the spot where their bodies joined.

"Rand, baby, can you sit up for a second? Still inside me?"

He concentrated. "Mmmm. Uh, yeah." Slowly, trying not to jar her, he lifted his upper body. "There? Is that better, honey?" He wasn't as deep now-- this was better for her first time on top.

From the side he saw her cheek plump out. "Yeah, sweetie, it's great, but can you do me a favor?"

He waited, wondering what the imp was up to.

"Can you put a pillow under your ass?"

He frowned. "Opal--"

She resisted the urge to laugh at his stern tone and infused her own with exasperation. "Can you manage, Rand, or would you like me to help?"

That did the job. He lifted them both with his heels and one hand on the mattress, sliding a pillow under his ass and settling gently down. "Okay?"

"Almost, lover. Point your toes at the ceiling."

His toes? What the hell was she up to? He pointed his toes at the ceiling and felt something soft settle around his arches.

"Okay, now can you lift me up just a little?"

He did, and she moved her feet forward, until they were just in front of her hips, her own toes facing forward again. The soft strap around the arch of his feet tightened.

"Thanks, baby. Now lay back down."

"Opal, what--"

"Rand," she snapped. "Keep your damn toes pointed at the ceiling, lay down, and shut the hell up."

He rolled his eyes and slowly lowered his shoulders to the mattress. He considered telling her again that he'd liked her better when she was all guilty and apologetic, but he usually saved that line for times when she thought she was too busy to make love. He'd say it, she'd hit him, they'd end up wrestling, and-- Voila!