Delicate

by W. Winters

As his hand slid farther down, he groaned with satisfaction.

He played on the rugby team and there's just something about men crashing into each other and taking those brutal hits; it makes my pussy pulse with desire.

A pair of hard, unforgiving arms wrap around my waist and chest before a hand covers my mouth. I struggle against what feels like an unmoving brick frame holding me tight, my back to his hard chest.

🥵

I wake with pain radiating in my shoulder. My throat feels bruised, and my head throbs with an unrelenting ache in my temples. Zip ties dig into the flesh of my ankles and wrists.

I’m struck by his masculine beauty. To say he looks like a sex god and CEO wrapped into one would be an understatement.

His frame is domineering--tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. But it’s his expression that’s the most intimidating. My eyes sweep over him from his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, to his plush lips, slightly downturned with disapproval.

My arms and wrists ache from being held behind me with zip ties. I can feel a trickle of blood from the plastic cutting into my skin. My skirt has ridden up and my pale thighs are exposed. With my ankles bound, I’m trapped. He crouches in front of me and seems to inspect every inch of me. He licks his lips as his eyes travel down my body. His masculine smell fills my lungs.

“Please,” I beg in a whisper. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“You’re on birth control?” he asks. My cheeks flame. I swallow the spiked lump in my throat and try to verbalize an answer, but I can’t, so I nod my head.

My throat’s hoarse from screaming through the gag, and I’m getting tired. I'm starting to really feel the exhaustion weighing down on me, but fear is keeping me wide awake.

He grabs my waist, hoisting me over his shoulder. I try to struggle, but his large hand smacks hard against my ass. Slap! His hand meets my bare skin underneath my skirt, and the shocking pain shoots through my body. My back bows, and a scream rips through my throat, muffled by the gag.

“Stop it.” His harsh admonishment makes my body go limp.

I let out a yelp of surprise as he quickly picks up my small body and takes me into the room, cradling me in his arms. I resist the urge to rest my head against his hard, muscular chest.

He leaves the door open and carries me across the room onto a soft bed before setting me down gently. He leaves me there, bound, gagged, and lying on my side. I close my eyes, listening to him moving through the room.

I still as I hear his footsteps in the hallway. They grow closer and louder until he’s standing in front of me, his hips by my head. I can see the buckle of his belt, and his crisp white shirt that now has a smear of blood, no doubt from when he carried me.

He grips my forearm and with a quick slice, cuts the ties. Relief flows through me, along with new aches and the need to move. But I’m stiff, waiting for him to cut the ties on my ankles. As soon as he does, I fucking bolt.

I sprint as hard as I can, but I don’t make it more than a few feet before his hand grips the hem of my sweater. I let out a shriek, landing hard on my side, palms slamming against the floor as he drags me toward him. All the while I fight. I kick my legs blindly and scream for help.

My foot lands hard against his chest, but he doesn't even flinch. Instead he grips my hair at the base of my skull, and I yelp in agony as he yanks my head back. Tears leak from my eyes at the sharp pain, and my hands instinctively move to try and pry his fingers from my head. He releases my head, but the momentary relief I feel is quickly eclipsed by intense pain once more as he grabs both of my wrists. The stinging pain from the cuts intensifies. With my wrists secured in one hand, he wraps his other arm around my waist and carries me back to the bed.

He pushes me face down on the bed, his large frame pinning me beneath him, forcing me still. He seizes the nape of my neck and squeezes until I go limp beneath him, surrendering the fight I so badly lost. Tears roll down my cheeks, every part of my body aching, and my soul crushed with hopelessness. “This is your one warning.” His hot breath leaves chills down my spine, his lips barely touching the shell of my ear. A shiver runs through my...