See Through Me Ch. 09

Notes from the author:

Hello all! To those of you who have gone out of your way to show support, I thank you so much! It has been a struggle in my first series, but I am determined to see it through to the end. As usual, this is the non con section, blah blah blah. This chapter contains knife play. If you are looking for a realistic story, read something else. The only realistic thing about my story is that it revolves around two people who are imperfect. This could serve as the final chapter, but I may consider extending it. We'll see what you have to say. ;) xoxo

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Chapter 9

The sun was pouring through the windows of the cabin when I awoke. It seemed close to ten. I looked over at the alarm clock, and confirmed. 10:19am. Oh shit! Michael. I had missed our breakfast date, again.

It was then that I realized that Joe was no longer in bed with me. I heard water running, and a soft cheerily whistled tune penetrating the wall. I would never have associated that happy peppy whistle with a sadistic asshole like Joe. He had terrorized me. Raped me. Cum inside me...

I frowned. It was hard to know what to make of Joe. When he was fucking me, he could control my mind and bend me to his dirty perverse whims. He could have anything he wanted from me, it seemed.

Technically, yes, I could run. I could fight him. I could rebel and tell him to fuck himself. But God help me, I just wanted to succumb. My body wanted him.

Joe's dominance and forcefulness was what I had always craved, although the reality was not exactly as I imagined. It was...more intense. One moment he would be degrading me...mocking me. The next he would be praising me and stroking me with the tenderness of a lover. It kept me off balance, and all the more vulnerable. He was an expert manipulator--at least in bed.

Could Joe truly see my desires? Or was he just an asshole who lucked out? He accused me time and again of "wanting it", and he was right. He was so right.

Still, I was not prepared just yet to become a mindless ball of mush. Joe was wearing me down, but sleep, and distance, had a way of restoring my confidence. Maybe I could slip out while he was in the shower. I would need to be quick.

I looked around for my dress, finding it crumpled underneath the bed. Thank goodness I had taken it off last night, before Joe tore it to shreds. Rather, before he cut it to shreds with his knife. Oh. That knife. I recalled the feel of the blade running softly across my skin. It was terrifying and amazingly erotic, just like Joe. Once again, I was trembling, anticipating Joe exiting the shower at the most inopportune moment. I slid my shoes on quickly, and grabbed my purse.

As I hurried to the door, I noticed how much lighter my purse felt. With a feeling of dread deep in the pit of my stomach, I peered into my purse. I found my lipstick, deodorant, toothbrush and travel size toothpaste. No wallet, no phone, no room key. With a frustrated sigh, I plopped myself down on the foot of the bed.

Of course. Of course he would take my stuff. Make it as difficult as possible for me to leave him, short of tying me to the bed. He wasn't an idiot. A sadistic bastard, yes, but an idiot, no. I was pissed. And suddenly, I heard the shower turn off.

A chill ran through me. Part of me wanted to strip and pretend to be asleep. He would be none the wiser. But the stubborn mule in me was royally pissed, and wanted to make sure Joe knew it. Fuck him. I wanted to leave. So what? I was completely within my rights. Not that rights meant anything to Joe.

Light flooded the hallway as the bathroom door opened, and I steeled myself for what was to come.

---

It's strange. Opening my eyes this morning to see her darling face, so pure in sleep, had me filled with this...warm sensation. It was a mixture of affection, possessiveness, pride, and a hint of fear. I had felt the occasional post-coital tenderness in the past, but never fear. What did I have to fear? She was mine.

Could it be that despite all my efforts to claim her, I was terrified that she would still get away? That she wanted to get away? I had forced her to be mine...forced her to say things. The way she had screamed out my name had been immensely satisfying, even if she had been trying to slow me down.

My eyes closed again as I recalled her crying out, "Joe, please! It's too deep!" I could feel her struggling form against me still, her cunt clenching over my shaft as I pummeled her harder, stabbing at her cervix, intent on taking what was mine.

I knew that deep down she shared my desires. Or, did I desperately need to believe that?

Frowning at her, deep in her angelic slumber, I could think of only two things to do. I could fuck her again, wake her, only to pound her into oblivion. Or I could make preparations. There was much to do if I intended to keep her here.

Shifting very carefully from the bed, I heard her start to snore. It was a cute, dainty, girly type snore, and it made me laugh. Then the warmth. That damn warmth again in my gut. She turned to her back, exposing a plump soft breast to my appreciative gaze.

God how I wanted to climb back on the bed and suckle at that gorgeous tit. Some day soon, I would suck milk from her swollen breasts. Visions of her hands tangling in my hair as I feasted on her generous tits, hearing her cries and pleas as she squirmed beneath me... it had me salivating. My cock now painfully hard for her, I stalked away and grabbed my robe.

In the living area of my suite I found the phone, directory, and room service menu. Skimming through the menu, I realized that I had no idea what she would prefer. I decided to order everything, and let her choose when she awoke. I called and put in the order, requesting that everything be delivered in an hour. I then called the concierge and requested two extra sets of towels, and an afternoon room cleaning.

Shortly after phoning, there was a light knock at the door.

I answered the door, greeted by a young Latina who was delivering our towels.

"Buenos dias senorita," I greeted softly, offering her my most charming smile. She blushed, rather like Kate, which made me grin.

She seemed taken aback by my fluent Spanish. In my work, I found bilingual skills to be immensely helpful, not so much for speaking as for listening.

I took the towels, and asked if she would be so kind as to pick up a few things and bring them to the room. I handed her a list, and a stack of bills. She said not a word, but nodded.

With a seductive smile, I dismissed her. "Gracias mamas. Una hora, si?"

"Si senor," she whispered.

I shut the door, and went to check on Kate. She had kicked away some of the sheets. Seeing more of her creamy soft skin exposed, I knew I needed to turn around or I would surely pounce, putting a crimp in my plans. Hearing her light snore, I was convinced she was asleep, and headed to the shower.

I was sorely tempted to bring myself off. It was becoming a ritual. The warmth of the water massaging my skin had thoughts of Kate swarming through my mind. Thoughts of being immersed in her, making love to her. I had to fight the temptation, and save myself for Kate. Not a drop could be wasted outside of her. Finishing quickly, I dried off and wrapped a towel round my waist before emerging from the bath.

When I returned to the bedroom, I was surprised to find Kate sitting at the edge of the bed, clad in her red velvet dress from last night. She did not look happy. Rather, like she wanted to kill me.

God, I loved that look. That look of utter sass. The look that begged me to redden her ass until it matched her juicy cunt. By God, I would. I grinned smugly at the thought, taunting her with words unspoken. But she was not amused.

Suddenly it dawned on me that she was dressed to leave. She must have discovered that I'd taken her wallet, phone, and room key, or I doubted she would still be here. This was not totally surprising, but irritating nonetheless. I had hoped we were past this.

"So cunt," I drawled, my tone bordering on anger. "You were going somewhere?"

"Damn right," she spat. "Give me back my stuff and I will be on my way."

The abruptness of her response angered me. Glaring, I approached her. Seated on the bed as she was, she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to look, except up at me, or forward at my cock, which was creating an ever-widening tent in towel around my hips. I gazed down upon her with an unspoken promise of retribution. Her eyes went from indignant to unsure.

"You're not leaving," I said heatedly.

"What makes you so damned sure?" she responded, irritated.

"Because I know you. I know what you want. I know that you want me, and need what only I can offer. You need to be owned, dominated, forced. You need this, and I need all of you."

Her eyes widened and glazed over a bit. I could tell that I was affecting her. Calling her on her bluff of indifference. Then suddenly, she blinked, and the trance was broken.

"You're a creep! You don't know me! What makes you think you know me? Because I came? It means nothing!" she yelled.

"In some cases, yes, it means nothing," I admitted. "But I think you know that this is different."

Kate's eyes closed, and she shook her head. Her hands squeezed at the edge of the mattress. She was clearly conflicted.

We both flinched when there was a knock at the door.

I crouched down in front of her, took her face in my hands, and warned, "You will behave."

I saw despair and resignation in her eyes, and while I did not wish her unhappy, I did need her to stay put.

I caressed her cheek before throwing on my robe and answering the door.

"Good morning sir! We have your breakfast." Two young men in white brought in food trollies packed with was apparently the breakfast menu. It looked, and smelled, delicious.

Kate just sat frozen on the bed, probably embarrassed at the two extra men in the room who could not help but appreciate her loveliness. But they were professional and quick, trying to avert their eyes while they set out place settings on the small "dinner for two" dining table. I needed to send a thank you letter to whoever decided to incorporate a dining table into the suite. Most passengers probably didn't take their meals in room, but in our case, it would certainly prove useful.

"Muchos gracias, Carlos y...Jose," I thanked them, making sure to check their name-tags. "Hasta luego, mis amigos," I slipped them both a generous tip. I find it never hurts to start with an overly generous gratuity, and that rang particularly true today. We would be seeing them again.

Closing the door, I walked back to the bed, finding Kate with her head buried in her hands. Seeing her this way did something to me. I was frustrated that she was still resisting me. Based on her responsiveness last night, she clearly wanted me, but it was obviously bothering her still. Why wouldn't she just let go? Why wouldn't she just concede defeat, and let herself be pleasured? I would take care of her.

Perhaps that was it. I hadn't actually told her that I would take care of her. It was blatantly clear that I wanted her. That I wanted to push her to her limits and beyond. That I wanted to bind her to me in the most irreversible way. But never had I told her I would take care of her. Would it make any difference to her? Did she simply, genuinely, want to escape me? I couldn't blame her really, but I just couldn't bring myself to let go. I had to make her stay, make her want to stay.

Was this what they called love? Was I in love with Kate? It seemed way too fast to be love. Love was something that evolved from a normal mutual romantic relationship. Right?

The term "love" made me uncomfortable. It seemed so cheesy, so cliché, so...weak. I felt determination more than anything. The determination to conquer, and possess. I wanted to possess her. Unlike any of my previous conquests, I could not see myself ever tiring of Kate. Was that love? Or obsession? Was there a difference?

Banishing the internal conflict for the moment, I half asked-half ordered, "Join me for breakfast Kate."

Kate sat still on the bed, staring out into space. Shit. She needed comfort.

Approaching, I sat next to her on the bed. She noticeably tensed.

"Darling, I just want to take care of you. I know you need nourishment...we both do...so I ordered breakfast. Won't you come and join me?"

Still she was silent, and I gently turned her to me, lifting her chin until she at last met my gaze.

"Kate, I'm sorry if I've been too rough on you. I just wanted you so badly. I do still. Even now I want to take you until we're both breathless. But I also want to take care of you. You're mine, and I will do everything in my power to ensure you are safe and healthy. That includes breakfast."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Kate scoffed, "Take care of me? Don't you understand how crazy that sounds?"

"Yes, I realize how crazy it sounds," I shrugged. "What can I say? My desires are unconventional. But at least I know what I want. I want you. I want all of you."

By now, we were a breath apart. She gazed into my eyes, still shaking her head softly. I wanted to kiss her. I needed to show her how I could care for her if she would let me. I leant in, running my fingers through her hair, and conquered her mouth with mine.

And suddenly we were falling. We fell backwards together on the bed, and I promptly rolled on top of her, resuming the kiss. Her hands gripped my shoulders, half pushing, half caressing. This was different from any encounter we'd had so far. It was almost...mutual.

Kate managed to break away from the kiss momentarily, "Please, I can't..."

"Yes baby, you can. Be mine," I demanded throatily, drawing her in close again.

I felt her start to come apart in my arms, starting to submit to the kiss, when there was a knock at the door.

Damn it.

My breathing now labored, I sat up and warned, "Don't move."

She gave a slight nod, trying to compose herself.

Adjusting myself and going to answer the door, I was greeted by our Latina maid, who had arrived with my list of items. I thanked her, and told her to keep the change. Had it not been for my now painful erection, I might have been more polite to the poor girl. Oh well.

Returning to Kate, I set the bags down on the console, and crawled back up the bed to her. The moment had passed, but she seemed a bit calmer, thank goodness.

"Darling, I would love to pick up where we left off. But I think we could both use some sustenance. Will you please join me for breakfast? I ordered everything, so I'm sure there will be something to your liking."

I gave her the best puppy face I could manage. I probably looked like an idiot, having never attempted a puppy face in my adult life. I never had to beg.

Taking me by surprise, she asked softly, "Are there any bearclaws?"

I chuckled. "I don't know. Why don't we find out?"

She nodded, and I helped her up out of the bed. Walking over to the breakfast carts, we looked over the contents. All the hot items were still covered, but there was a plate of pastries set out, on top of which, thank God, was a bearclaw.

I looked at her, and smiled. It was obvious that bearclaws were her favorite, and I committed that to memory.

"Have at it then," I said, nudging her gently to the table. "Would you like some juice, or coffee? Cocoa perhaps?"

Cocoa sure got her attention. She nodded, and I poured her a mug full, taking coffee for myself. While she was busy nibbling at her bearclaw, I tracked down the eggs and bacon. During our meal, she would take periodic glances at me. Every time I met her eyes, she would look away. Like a shy little schoolgirl. Adorable.

When we were both finished, I asked, "Was that good?"

Kate nodded, with a satisfied "Mmmmm." She must have seen the look on my face as she licked the sugary glaze from her fingers, because she immediately put her hand down.

"Don't stop," I said sharply. She startled a bit, and I cleared my throat, trying to soften my tone.

"It's okay baby-girl, suck your fingers clean for me. Show me how good you are with your tongue."

I let her see the desire in my eyes, and she was emboldened. Gripping the table, I took in a deep breath as she slowly brought her fingers back to her soft pouty lips.

"Good girl. Suck harder," I purred. She closed her eyes, starting to really get into it, sucking noises now filling the room. God, I wanted those sucking noises to be from her mouth on my cock. But not yet.

"Eyes on me slut," I commanded. She obeyed, her eyes fluttering at the harsh reference.

It was a whorish enough gesture to suck off her fingers in front of a man, but to look him in the eyes during was truly the act of a slut. She was my slut, and I was loving every minute of it.

"That's it, suck those fingers like my cock. Mmmhhmm." I bit my lip as I watched her go to town on her fingers.

As she moved on to her other hand, I knew I had to get myself under control.

"Enough, slut. We need to get you cleaned up. Strip," I directed.

---

"Strip."

I could tell from the look on his face and his clipped words that I was having an effect on him. And I liked it. I pouted, my fingers still lingering in my mouth. I wanted to savor the rare feeling of power...the look of barely restrained lust in Joe's eyes. Lavishing in his obvious discomfort, I took my fingers all the way to the base, daring him with my eyes. He drew in a breath through his nose, before a look of menace crossed his features.

"You'll pay for that, cunt," Joe gritted, sending chills through me.

I relented, drawing my fingers from my lips finally. It's not like I wanted to give him more excuses to punish me, but the temptation to push him was almost irresistible.

Joe abruptly rose from his chair, and pulled me from mine. Grabbing my arm, he steered me to the foot of the bed. Hadn't I been here before?

"Arms out, feet shoulder width apart," Joe directed.

I complied for the moment, curious as to what he would do.

Joe leaned in to whisper in my ear, "You'll want to be still for this, pet."

I stiffened at that, and closed my eyes. After hearing some rustling, I felt the familiar cold shock of his knife on my skin.

I struggled to keep from flinching as Joe ran his knife over my arm, and across my collarbone. I panted as he lingered near my neck. Slowly, Joe dragged the knife down my chest, and over the top of my right breast. I felt my pussy clench as he ever so softly ran the knife over the fabric of my dress, circling my breast. The knife came ever closer to my nipple with each rotation on my breast. Ever closer. And I felt myself growing wet between my legs. My eyes closed tight, my hands fisted, I waited. For what, I did not know. I was afraid to ponder what Joe was capable of with a knife in his hand.

Finally, I felt the dull side of the knife (I hoped) come to rest underneath my nipple, which was now fully erect.

Joe didn't move the knife, but suddenly, I felt his other hand dip beneath my skirt.

"If I touch you Kate, tell me, will I feel your whore cunt juices soaking my fingers?" Joe whispered into my ear. "Well, cunt?"

My mouth was open, but I dared not answer. I dared not breathe.

Taking my silence as affirmation, Joe softly stroked my cleft. He groaned.

"Jesus Kate," he gasped.

I whimpered, knowing that he had no doubt found a deluge of wetness between my thighs. Joe removed his hand from my skirt, but resumed his tease with the knife. The blade which had been resting underneath my nipple, tilted and shifted upward, stimulating it. My knees weakened.

"Joe, please," I begged.

"Shhh baby, be still. You can do it," Joe urged. I steeled myself, wondering how long this could go on before I crumbled.

Joe circled my nipple with the blade, occasionally running over the nub, causing me to whimper in desperation. For what, I could scarcely have said.