The Perfect Captive

She made herself open her eyes all the way and shook her head hard to clear it of the lethargy, but the buzzing behind her eyes didn't go away, and she knew that was because of his tongue stabbing at her nipple, squeezing her breast.

"I'm awake," she said, and her voice sounded clear to her. "I'm awake, Rusty, stop."

He paid no attention. He only sucked harder on her nipple. She tried not to groan with pleasure.

"Rusty," she said, her voice now shaking. "Stop. You woke me up, see, I'm awake." Don't touch me any more, she silently begged. She held her hands up away from him; as much as she wanted to pound her fists on him, get him to stop, she didn't dare touch him, for fear she would dig her nails into his back and push his head harder into her breast.

He took his mouth from her nipple, and she felt a sense of relief, that was quickly squashed when he took her other nipple into his mouth.

Isis tried to stay calm, tried not to move.

"What is this, date rape?" she said, trying to laugh, but the laugh died in her throat when she felt his hand moving down her right hip, over her skirt.

"No!" She tried to push herself up from under him, but he just used his body to push her right back down.

"Go back to sleep," he murmured into her breast. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

She heard the sarcasm in his voice, and she knew he was not kidding around.

Rusty was overwhelmed with relief when Isis responded to his stripping her naked from the waist up. He probably could have stopped then, but he had wanted to make absolutely sure she was fully awake. At least that was what he tried to tell himself as he started to touch and taste her.

Her response had been instantaneous, and he heard the panic in her voice, and he knew his idea had worked, and he knew that he should stop, but he couldn't. Her fragrant flesh was soft, her nipple tasted wonderful, and he was not even a little cold anymore. And the more she struggled, the longer she would stay awake. He still didn't know why she disliked this so much.. If she did dislike it. From what he had seen, Isis had only lost the superior position she held when he'd touched her intimately, and he suspected that she did like it, liked it a lot, and didn't want him to know, because she would be embarrassed.

It seemed the only thing he could hurt was her pride.

Rusty only knew of one way to find out just how she did react to his attentions to her, and he let his hand begin to travel south. Isis's panic increased when he did, adding weight to his suspicions, but he ignored her protests.

Isis's mind was racing, trying to think of something to say, something to do, that would stop Rusty's hand that she could feel moving down her outer thigh, past the tops of her thigh high stockings, while his tongue and his teeth continued to assault first one nipple, then the other. Her senses were on overload, and although she could feel the heat of pleasure pulsing through her blood and keeping away the cold, she dreaded the heat of shame that she knew would come if he touched her secret place.

But she couldn't think of a thing to do that would stop him. She still didn't want to lay hands on him, they were weak and trembling, and she wasn't strong enough to push him away from her anyway. And even if she was, she had no place to go, not with the blizzard outside, and he still did have a gun.

Knowing the inevitable was going to happen, she threw her head back over the arm of the couch, so he could not see her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut, and then her thighs shut, as his hand started to move up under her skirt. She clenched her fists, feeling her aching clit that begged for his hands to caress it, feeling the flood of damp that was almost running down her legs now.

Isis's squeezing her thighs together was a waste of time. They didn't need to be apart for Rusty's hand to find the top of her panties and feel them soaked with her passion.

She heard him groan, and she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, though she felt no pain.

When Rusty felt how soaked even the top of her panties were, he knew she was gushing, and his own need intensified, his manhood swelled even harder, and he knew he couldn't stop now. She was aching, and she would probably continue to try to play her game of holding onto what shreds of dignity she had left, but he was more than willing to play.

Slowly, he started trailing his tongue up her chest, pausing just at the base of her neck to murmur, "I can't understand why you aren't afraid of a gun, but you're terrified of feeling like this."

Isis's only answer was a sharp intake of breath as he continued trailing his tongue up her throat, then down again. He made sure she could hear his breathing, wanted her to know how excited he was, because she still kept her hands away from him, though he ached for her to lay them on him.

She had clenched her legs together, still had some vague hope that Rusty would stop. She was starting to feel dizzy, and her heart wouldn't stop pounding. She kept her head tilted back, terrified he would look her in the face, and was startled when she felt his tongue on her throat. He was also naked from the waist up. When had he removed his shirt? She could feel his bare chest against her breasts, and she had to concentrate very hard on not moving her hands or her legs.

She concentrated so hard, in fact, that she was not aware of what his hands were doing, didn't realize the waistband of her skirt was loose.

She felt his hand move down into her opened skirt, and a real surge of panic shot through her. Again, she tried to push herself up, and almost succeeded, but Rusty's teeth dug into her throat, and her arm muscles turned to water.

She held her breath as he found his way into the top of her panties. She kept her thighs crossed tight, but he was more than up to that challenge. His hand pushed. She managed to resist, but he pushed again, harder this time, and her legs, already shaking, started to shake harder.

"Rusty..." It was supposed to be a warning, but it was almost a plea, and it was given with entirely too much breathlessness.

Rusty bit her collarbone. She jumped, not expecting it, and without meaning to, she loosened the tight grip on her crossed thighs, and he pushed again at the same time, and her legs opened enough to let him in. His fingers slipped into her warm, wet slit.

Rusty moaned again, and started to suck on her neck, stroking her swollen clit with his fingers. She still had her legs closed enough that he could not reach her entrance, but she didn't know how long she could maintain that, either. His light touch to her sensitive spot was turning her entire body to jelly, and her breath was coming in gasps. She couldn't help it. Sweet pain burned in her lower spine and throughout her core, and she knew from experience that if it grew any worse, she would have no control over it and would need him to give her relief.

She didn't want to get to that point.

Rusty couldn't believe how wet she was, and how well she had hidden it. When he finally managed to slip in, his fingertips found her clit, and it was so swollen that he didn't know how she was able to stand it.

It grew even more swollen under his touch, but she still kept her legs together enough so he couldn't slip his fingers into her. He wanted her to lose control, and knew of a hundred tricks to use. She was already having a hard time being still, her breath was coming in little gasps, her fists were clenched.

He worked his way slowly back down her body with his tongue, until he was tasting the flesh just above the waistband of her skirt.

Isis felt his fingers leave her, but she didn't hope he was giving up. Not at this point. His tongue had left a hot line down her body, and she had a terrible suspicion of what he was going to do next, and if he did do it, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself together anymore.

His hands gripped her skirt and began to pull it down over her hips. She let him get it about halfway down her thighs, and before he could move his mouth further down her stomach, she got her arms braced and lunged.

Unfortunately, she had underestimated Rusty this time. He was as quick as a cat, and when she was nearly to her feet, he grabbed her around her lower legs and she lost her balance. She fell face down across the arm of the couch opposite the arm she had been lying back across, and somehow as she fell, Rusty slid his own body quickly downwards.

The end result was Rusty underneath of Isis, his face against her lower belly, only a heartbeat away from the prize.

Isis's sudden move had surprised him, but not enough that he couldn't react, and without meaning to he had done exactly the right thing.

When she landed over him, he threw both arms around her slender hips so that she could not rise up, crushing his face into her lower belly. He could smell her, and his mouth watered.

He didn't know if she was going to continue to struggle, but he didn't wait for her to make her mind up. He moved quickly, following her scent, and quickly sucked her clit into his mouth.

Well, Proud Mary, Isis said to herself, you've lost the battle now.

She knew it, she knew it was pointless to struggle any longer. Rusty wasn't going to stop until he'd broken her. And she also knew that to fight him any further would only result in further loss of dignity.

So she put her forehead on the arm of the couch, let her legs fall open naturally, although she didn't open them any wider than necessary, and she felt Rusty move down underneath of her.

Even though it was fully expected, it was still a shock when she felt his tongue stab into her sex. Isis let herself moan with pleasure and agony, and she felt his arms tighten around her hips in response to it. Her entire lower body was burning as he gently sucked her clit, and she felt his fingers slip into her entrance. She tightened around them hard. He groaned. She moved with his tongue, knowing that he wanted her to orgasm, knowing he wanted to taste it.

His fingers left her opening, replaced by his tongue stabbing into her. She jerked, and her body tensed as he again teased her clit with his tongue. It was building. Isis breathed his name, and felt him double his efforts.

She screamed, her entire core turning white hot, melting, and he groaned again.

Rusty didn't give Isis time to recover. He had rid himself of his jeans and was now as naked as she was. He wrapped his arms around her hips and rolled them off of the couch. They landed hard on the ice cold wooden floor of the cabin. Isis shrieked again at the shock of it.

Contrary to what he had intended, it was Rusty who had lost control. Isis lay on her back, and he nearly threw his body on top of her, making sure to land between her legs before she could close them again. He crushed his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss, and Isis tasted herself on him. She drew his tongue into her mouth and sucked on it, her arms around him, and he knew she wasn't going to put up any more of a fight.

Neither of them noticed any cold now. They were both shining with sweat in the cold, dark cabin. Isis, who had not touched him up until now, seemed to be trying to touch him everywhere at once, digging in her nails, sending him nearly over the edge. When she touched his rod, stroking it, he let out a strangled sound. Isis wanted to taste it, wanted to suck and use her tongue on it, but Rusty couldn't wait. He pulled her hand away from him, pinned it and the other over her head, and positioning himself, penetrated her with one savage thrust.

Isis's hips raised and he felt her tighten around him just as she had done to his fingers, and it nearly made him burst right then, but he calmed down enough to think practically. He had to make this last. They needed the warmth.

So he moved slowly, still holding her wrists down, feeling her trap him in and then release, trap him in and then release. He tried with all he had not to push too deeply, but with every stroke, he went deeper.

Isis braced her legs and rolled them over suddenly, and she got her wrists free. Rusty was surprised, but didn't protest as she started to ride him. He reached up and crushed her breasts under his hands as she milked him, but she didn't keep it slow, and several times he nearly exploded.

He could only stand a few minutes of her being in control before he rolled them over again and trapped her beneath him. Now there was no pretense of taking his time. He began to punish her with his body, pounding into her with every ounce of strength he had, but she met his strength with her own, and it was too much for him.

He lunged forward and dug his teeth into her shoulder, tried to keep quiet, but a half suppressed scream escaped anyway, as he filled her with his cream. Isis didn't even notice the bite marks on her shoulder until much later.

They lay still on the cabin floor for a very long time, until finally their heart rates slowed to normal, and they both became aware of the cold again.

Rusty moved his head to murmur into her ear, "Let's take a shower."

"Then what?" she asked softly, worried about the cold.

"Then we start all over again," he said, biting her earlobe.

That was the best idea she'd heard in two days.