Kidnapped Ch. 04

It had been a week since she stopped talking to him. She lay on the bed stubbornly ignoring every attempt of his to get on her good side. The first day, all she felt was anger and fear. But she was starting to enjoy her new form of entertainment.

Damien had brought her clothes, good food, books. He'd talked to her, yelled at her, even had Elena to come and try to pull Christine out of her shell. Christine just thought that last attempt was depressing. It was clear that Elena couldn't see a single fault in her twin. The woman seemed quite kind (for a bloodsucking demon), but was completely set on defending Damien, even though she clearly disapproved of his attack.

Although Elena was good for something. During her long "conversation" with Christine, she told the younger girl about their feeding habits. According to Elena, vampires possessed some level of mind control. It was nothing like in all the movies, but they were able to distort memories enough for an intended victim to think of them as a crazy drunk encounter, instead of a supernatural one. Christine was loathe to believe them, but she really couldn't imagine Elena as a murderer. And the explanation was supported by the discovery that the mark on her neck had disappeared, like it was never there. She could imagine a "victim" being convinced that none of it was real. Oh, how badly she wished she could.

She couldn't stop thinking about her family. She knew they must be terrified for her. She desperately wanted to get back to them, but couldn't understand how. As it turned out, the door locked with a keycode, so there wasn't a physical key that she could steal. During the short times that Damien left, she tried different passcodes, to no avail.

She was brought out of her musings with the click of the door opening. Damien walked into the room, holding a large box.

"Elena said that you would need some of this stuff," he began. He dumped the box on the bed, sending what appeared to be an abundance of various products and toiletries scattering.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I got some of everything."

From what she could see, he was serious. He might as well have bought an entire salon. As she thought about it, it was actually a possibility. Money didn't seem to be a concern. She didn't know if it was because they had a great deal of it, or because they stole everything, but she refused to break her silent treatment to ask.

She looked dispassionately at the assortment, before coming over and selecting a few. She'd originally thought about refusing his gifts, but she'd decided the silence was enough. Anyways, she did really enjoy some of the stuff he brought, much to her chagrin.

As she looked through the pile, she felt his arms snaking around her waist. This again, she thought. He'd already realized that she was attracted to him, so he'd been doing her best to use that to his advantage. The worst part was that she was having more and more trouble resisting him.

She tensed as he pressed her back against his strong body. He continued talking in a normal voice, but with his lips so close to her, it felt quite different.

"I spent hours finding you all of this stuff, the least you could do is say thank you." He paused, as though he was expecting her to respond. For some reason, when he was holding her like this, she forgot that she should be scared with his teeth so close to her neck. "No? Well, you're welcome, in any case."

His fingers were tracing circles on her hips and stomach, and despite herself, she knew that she was starting to get turned on. The worst part was, she knew he could tell, with his acute senses.

She felt his warm lips press against her shoulder. He turned her around in his arms so that she was facing him, and looked down at her. She avoided his gaze, cursing her weakness, trying to order herself to pull away.

He nibbled lightly on her ear, and felt him smirk at her resulting shiver of pleasure. Against her will, she could feel the tingling in her body centering into an ache deep in her belly. His hands stroked her shoulder blades, sending tingling bolts of pleasure through her.

She sank her lip into the inside of her cheek, trying to remain impassive, despite her growing arousal. He brushed his lips along her jaw.

"I know you like this" he murmured against her skin. "Speak to me."

He apparently knew better than to try and kiss her, because he skipped over her lips and trailed kisses down the other side of her neck. Despite herself, Christine's head tipped back. He was definitely smiling now, arrogant asshole. But she couldn't summon the will to pull away. He mouthed against her pulse, and she bit back a moan. She could feel his arousal between them, and it took everything in her not to push against it. She could feel herself starting to get wet, but couldn't bring herself to care anymore, not when he was making her feel such delicious, foreign things. He inhaled deeply, and let out a groan that sent wonderful vibrations through her.

"I can smell you, you know," he told her huskily. For a moment she tensed, thinking he was talking about her blood, but then he thrust his hips against her and she realized what he meant, even as the movement sent another pulse of warmth through her dampening her panties even more.

"You can't pretend you're not enjoying this. Come on Christine."

She let out a gasp, close to speaking, just so she could beg him to say her name again, in that rough, hot tone.

His fingers slipped from their innocent position on her back, one hand going up to cup her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and she jerked at the unexpected bolt of pleasure. She wished she'd been more prepared for something like this. She was so inexperienced, and he played with her so easily.

"You liked that, huh," he asked. He placed butterfly kisses down her shoulder, pushing aside her sleeve as he did so. "I can make you feel a lot more than that little girl, if you let me."

His hand left her breast, but she didn't have much time to recover, as he made his destination quite clear. His fingers traced the waistband of her dark leggings, slipping up under her shirt.

She raised her hands and clung to his shirt. His fingers felt like fire, fueling the burning ache that was quickly becoming unbearable.

He pressed his lips against the curve of her breast, nudging her shirt down, and kissing along her bra. Her hips jerked, and he let out a low, dark laugh.

"Relax, sweetheart, I'll take care of you."

He pushed his hand lower, rubbing her over her leggings. Her mouth opened in a small o, and she tensed all over. She'd touched herself before, but it was nothing like this. He rubbed her harder, and she leaned forward, burying her face in his neck. 'Don't stop, please don't stop' she chanted inside her head.

She let out a loud gasp as his fingers suddenly slipped inside her panties. For a second she froze. Then his fingers flicked against her clit, and she arched into him, her hips pushing down on his hand. She threw her head back, eyes clenched shut, gritting her teeth against the onslaught of pleasure. She was panting, grinding into his hand with abandon, desperate for release.

His fingers moved faster, flying over her clit, before he shifted them suddenly, pushing his fingers roughly inside her.

In an instant, she forgot that he was a demon, forgot that she was his prisoner, and let out a long moan of pure pleasure.

"There we go. I knew you hadn't lost your voice." his tone was all smug arrogance... and she couldn't care less. All she cared about was the fingers thrusting in and out of her. He grabbed one of her legs and hitched it around his hip, and simultaneously started rubbing her clit with his thumb. His fingers were hitting the spot deep inside her that she hadn't believed even existed. She tensed as the feeling of pleasure got tighter and tighter, coiling inside her.

She let out a series of moans, pleading him in between.

"Please what? Tell me what you want, little girl." He was teasing her now, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Please, I, I," she couldn't get the words out, couldn't think about anything other that his hand, doing such wonderful, incredible things. He kissed up her neck to her ear, biting down gently.

"I know what you want," he growled roughly, and thrust his fingers hard into her and curled them, while simultaneously pressing his thumb down hard on her clit.

She screamed his name under the wave of complete heaven that overcame her. He caught her as her legs gave out and she collapsed into him, clenching her teeth against the seemingly never ending bliss. He pushed his fingers into her a few more times, prolonging her orgasm, before pulling them out and licking them clean.

"Mmm, you're delicious little girl," he purred, setting her back on her feet. The words snapped her out of her haze. She jerked back abruptly, in horror, then shoved him away and bolted for the bathroom.

What did she just do?! She glared into the mirror, hating herself for her flushed cheeks and messy hair. She buried her face in her arms, and tried in vain to forget about it. She listened to the sounds of Damien getting ready for bed, and saw the light click off.

Christine didn't want to sleep yet, so she sat down in a chair in the bathroom. The bathroom was quite large, with a comfortable cushioned chair at a large, lit vanity table that he'd brought in for her. She'd taken to reading there; at least there was some barrier between herself and her jailer. She buried the knowledge of the ineffectiveness of the door. She didn't want to think about that night.

She read a few chapters, but the book wasn't capturing her attention like it usually did. She wandered out the door, eyeing Damien carefully. He was lying face down on a pillow, dead to the world. Against her will, her eyes traced the muscles in his back. He really was gorgeous. And he looked so human, twisted in the sheets. She forced herself away from those thoughts and instead stared at him curiously, wondering how he could breathe through the cushions. Did he even need to breathe?

She hesitated, but he really did look asleep, so she headed to the door to continue her hobby of guessing. There didn't seem to be a limit on the amount of times you could try, because that's all she'd been doing. She'd narrowed the five digit code down at least. Watching Damien and Elena carefully, she'd managed to obtain the first two numbers, three and six. And from what she could tell, she thought that the last digit was either an eight or a nine. With those parameters in mind, she'd been systematically trying combinations every chance she could get. 36129... 36128... 36139... 36138... *CLICK*

She froze in shock. She turned the handle slowly, not believing her luck, and silently pulled the door open.