Stalking Amber Ch. 02

The room's walls were a cheerful peach colour, and there was a large brown-leather lounge along the wall, which Brad forced her onto. Painfully holding her down by her neck, Brad curled himself around her in a half-spooning position, one hand still gripping his groin.

"That fucking hurt," he grimaced, burying his face in the nape of her neck and wiping some of the perspiration from his forehead. "You'd deserve it if I vomited on you."

Amber shifted against him restlessly, not daring to say a word. For about five long minutes they sat together in silence. Finally, he released her neck and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her firmly against him.

Brad could feel she was incredibly tense, scared of his reaction after opting for the one category of attack every man despised. But, despite the excruciating pain and disruption of his amorous intentions, Brad never considered reacting violently. Violence against women disgusted him. In his eyes, women were to be cherished and protected, and in return, men were rewarded with intimacy. Brad considered himself a modern-day caveman, dragging his chosen mate back to his lair, without clobbering her over the head with a club.

Besides, he only had himself to blame. The assault was a result of his own error in judgement. Considering all the waspish things Amber had said to him the night before, he should have expected her to lash out.

"Lucky you punch like a girl," he teased, but his other hand still nursed his balls and Amber heard the strain in his voice.

"I just wanted you to stop," she answered fretfully. She felt his wavy hair move against the nape of her neck as he shook his head.

"I'm never going to stop," he murmured. Against her back, he couldn't resist nibbling, tasting the lovely flesh of her neck. "The pain will wear off. Within the hour, I'll be able to pick up where we left off."

Amber shut her eyes, realising her efforts were wasted. She'd had one chance, and she blew it. "What can I say to stop you?" she asked tremulously.

At her question, Brad shifted her on the lounge so she turned to face him, and the hand around her waist crept higher to cup her breast. "Nothing," he whispered against her lips, hypnotised by the pools of white-blue ice in the depths of her eyes, "there's nothing." Closing his eyes, he firmly pressed his lips to hers, gently kissing her, feeling her lips slightly part beneath his as she tried to catch her breath.

After what she did, Amber was petrified. She was already afraid when Brad had caught her trying to flood his house, but after physically hurting him, she was sure he'd violently retaliate. But then she thought about the chain on the bed, and realised she wasn't done fighting. The thought of crossing Brad again was extremely daunting, but the thought of the chain permanently on her ankle and her consequent loss of freedom, was significantly more terrifying. Plotting, Amber understood she couldn't punch him in the balls a second time with his hand covering them.

Instead of sitting passively under his kiss, she suddenly pressed forward, angling her head and opening her mouth, hotly inviting his tongue to mingle with hers, even going so far as to explore his mouth with her tongue and when she did, he groaned around it. Sliding one hand up his bare chest, she felt his thudding heartbeat, and in his passion he relaxed his hold on her breast, allowing her to shift without breaking the kiss and move into his lap, straddling him. The hand that was covering his groin left to slide up her thigh, over her waist and circle around her torso, crushing her against his chest as his kiss became more demanding.

"At this rate, I'll recover in less than half an hour," he panted against her mouth before urgently resuming the kiss.

'Forgive me, Fred,' Amber thought with regret, as her hands sensually roamed over his chest, up and down his large arms, linking around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter against her. Both of Brad's hands moved to squeeze her ass while they made out, before sliding up her waist, under the slinky red t-shirt to capture her breasts. Brushing his thumbs over her nipples, he moaned into her mouth.

Amber reached between them to take one of his hands and direct it lower. Their kiss was temporarily interrupted as she edged back to give him room to slip his hand down her pants. As he curiously glanced down between them, his blue eyes heavy-lidded with lust, Amber quickly cupped his face upwards, directing him to kiss her again.

In a heated daze, Brad blindly fumbled around, trying to find her pussy. But he only encountered layer, after layer of silk and lace, and she moved back further to give better access. With Amber in his lap, her willing mouth purring into his, he could barely think. Why was she suddenly all over him? Perhaps the number of g-strings she wore was an indicator, but he felt something was off. He opened his eyes in time to see her elbow pull back to deliver another blow between his legs. Their kiss was broken as his other hand darted down from her breast like lightening, catching her fist in his hand.

There was a terrible silence as they stared at each other, both panting.

"Really, Amber?" Brad growled, slightly enjoying her aghast expression. He was already quite angry, but he deliberately hardened his gaze, milked the moment, let her think he might beat the crap out of her.

"B-Brad..." Amber said uncertainly, but trailed off. She tried to think of something, but her mind went blank with panic. She had absolutely nothing. Was he going to kill her?

"Yes?" he asked coldly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I wasn't...I didn't..." she tried, but he cut her off.

"Don't insult me, Amber," he said severely. "I might be infatuated with you, but I'm not stupid enough to let that cloud my judgement."

"I want to go home," she trembled, beginning to cry under his fierce gaze. Brad didn't mind her angry tears, he hated to see her cry in fear of him. He sighed and pulled her close, reaching up to brush the hair from her face and kiss her tears.

"I know you're scared. We'll get through this together," he tried to reassure her, hearing her uneven breathing as she broke down and wept against him, moving her head away from his lips and exhaustedly dropping it to his shoulder. Brad held her quite a while, stroking his hand up and down her back, brushing his lips along the warm column of her throat. He caressed the back of her neck that he had gripped earlier, massaging the smooth skin, hoping he hadn't bruised her.

"I want to go home," she repeated in a hushed voice against Brad's shoulder, feeling sleepy after all the terror, adrenaline and her recent crying jag. Somewhat comforted by the warm hold of his bare skin, she actually began to dose off.

"You are home," Amber heard his gentle answer, as her eye-lids grew heavy and flickered closed.

******************************************************

Slightly frowning in sleep, Amber was again in the large bed, chained at the ankle. She was curled on her side, fully covered by the quilt and tucked in.

From the doorway, Brad watched her longingly. Despite making his intentions clear about resuming their encounter, he decided to give her a break. Things had gone almost perfectly to plan the night before, but he'd become impatient, took things too quickly and pushed her too far. If he jumped her bones every time she saw him, she wasn't going to know him as anything other than an abuser. Brad realised he needed to alternate more carefully between sex and companionship. Restrict their intimacy to perhaps once a day, patiently knock down the walls she'd built against him and bring her pleasure, just as he did last night.

Once a day. Brad scowled just thinking about it. He didn't want to limit himself, he wanted to make love to her again, right away. Kiss her awake and deftly slide her pants down, cup her pussy and feel her mouth open against his as he entered her.

****************************************************************

Amber's eyes fluttered open and she sat up with a start. Iron on her ankle, she was back in her comfortable dungeon. Glancing around, the room seemed different, and she realised Brad had taken the pictures down from the walls. He'd cleared away the broken frame she'd thrown in anger. The cold steak was still sitting on the black table across the room, but two other plates had been added - one laden with sandwiches and another with fresh fruit.

Amber narrowed her eyes at the new offerings. At least she didn't wake up naked this time. Pulling her knees to her chest, numerous blond strands of hair framed her face as she rested her forehead on the heels of her palms, trying to think. A patch of white caught her eye, and she glanced to the side to see Brad had left a note on the bedside.

'Amber,' she read, 'I'm sorry about before. If you can forgive me, I'll forgive you, and we'll make a fresh start. Love, Brad.'

'I'll forgive you!?" Amber repeated out loud in disbelief. Her pastel-blue eyes flared indignantly at the note, and the words on paper blurred as her hands shook with fury. Clenching her teeth, she ripped the note, again and again, until it scattered across the blanket in tiny specks.

Flinging the quilt to the floor in a rage, she scrambled out of bed. Stamping to the door, Amber swore as her stride was sharply pulled up by the chain on her ankle.

"Brad!" Amber shouted, stamping her foot. "Brad!"

About half a minute later, the door quickly opened and Brad poked his head around it. Looking up at his amused face, Amber clenched her fists to her sides, knowing he was just out of reach. Brad took in her flustered appearance, his blue eyes flickered to the blanket on the floor, and then he had the audacity to grin at her.

"Yes, Amber?" he courteously enquired.

"This has to stop. Now!" she snapped, resisting the urge to stamp her foot again. "This just- this- you have to release me."

"Are you bi-polar?" Brad teased her, tilting his head. "You're pretty mad, and after sleeping like such an angel. Before that, you were like a scared mouse. And before that..." his eyes danced, and the corners of his mouth curved into a wicked smile.

Amber blushed and angrily looked away, knowing full well he was referring to the fact she'd had one hell of an orgasm under him the night before.

"Make fun of me all you want. I can't make you let me go," she admitted quietly. "But I promise you, you'll live to regret everything you've done to me."

"Oh?" Brad asked interestedly. "I can't imagine that." He stepped into the room and Amber cautiously backed away from him. Brad's light-brown hair was damp from a recent shower, and he'd changed into a fitted yellow t-shirt and black track-pants. Watching her with an unreadable expression, he put his hands in his pockets.

"How are you going to punish me, Amber?" he smiled, and the dirty tone of his voice made Amber long for the courage to hit him.

"You'll know when it happens," she spat back at him, really having no idea.

"Would you like to give it a shot now?" he offered, stepping closer.

"N-No," Amber stammered, feeling the wind leave her sails as he put her on the spot.

"Are you going to go for my nuts again?" Brad questioned mildly. "I didn't really care for that. I think you'd have done a better job with your mouth." His blue eyes lowered from hers and rested on her full, pouting lips. "Oh yes, that mouth was certainly made to pleasure a man. Care to try it now?"

"Fuck you!" Amber screamed. Despite her determination to keep a cool head, her fiery temper overtook her senses, and she lunged at him.

Brad was ready, and before she reached him his hand snaked out and seized her wrist, spinning her around so he held her back against him. Wriggling furiously in his hold, Amber glanced down and realised he was barefoot. Without hesitating, she raised her heel and brought it down on his toes with as much force as she could muster.

"Yeowch!" Brad exclaimed, still holding her steady as he raised his sore foot. "You little wildcat!" he laughed.

"Wildcat, this!" Amber snarled, and sunk her teeth into the arm that was wrapped across her chest, still holding her wrist. She felt him jerk behind her in pain, but his hold remained firm.

"That's enough," he barked, giving her a little shake. "My patience is running perilously thin, Amber. If you really want another fucking, keep going."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Amber immediately stilled. Brad cursed inwardly that he'd had to threaten her again, so soon after resolving to properly woo her. He also cursed the unbearable desire that coursed through his veins from just touching her, holding her close. Exhaling with frustration, he hauled her toward the bed and pushed her onto it, straightening up to watch her quickly crawl back from him and grab a pillow to hold between them.

"Listen to me carefully, Amber," he said sharply. "You can fight me as much as you want, it won't make any difference. You can choose to be my partner, or you can choose to be my slave. I'd infinitely prefer the former, but if you're determined to fight me," he shrugged, glancing down at the bite mark on his arm, "let's just say I can find ways to enjoy it. It's a matter of whether you want to make things easier for yourself, because I'll get what I want either way. Do you understand?"

"He'll find me," Amber trembled with outrage, "Fred will find me. You'll be sorry."

"Him, again!" Brad sighed impatiently, and threw his arms up in the air with exasperation. "Whatever. You keep telling yourself that, but not in front of me. I don't want to hear it. Honestly, I don't know what you saw in the guy. He's pathetic at his job. He doesn't know anything about building client relationships."

"What?" Amber's head snapped up, and she saw a faint tinge of red spread across Brad's upper cheekbones. "Do you know him?" she asked carefully.

Brag exhaled sharply in anger. "No," he lied firmly, resting his hands on his hips. "Just tidbits I picked up while learning about his girlfriend. Well, I guess it's ex-girlfriend now, right?"

"Fuck you," Amber mumbled, angrily plucking at the pillow in her lap.

"What?" Brad answered menacingly, quickly stepping toward the bed.

Amber knew she was the underdog. But the sore-loser in her couldn't resist the temptation to aggravate him at every opportunity. She sat up straighter and tilted her head, staring into his stormy eyes. "Go fuck your mother?" she suggested innocently.

Without further warning, Brad was on the bed, dragging her toward him by her ankles and using his weight to pin her beneath him. He roughly caught one wrist at a time and once again secured them to the bedposts. Amber, angrier and more desperate than the night before, put up a huge fight. She tried to scratch, bite, and deliberately kick around his groin. As far as she was concerned, that particular area was the head of the snake tormenting her. If Brad was a eunuch, he'd never have been motivated to snatch her off the street in the first place.

"Let me show you how this works," Brad ground out, furious about his slip of tongue, and slightly out of breath from her more energetic resistance. He tightly secured the silk to her wrists, but this time, he caught her ankle and with substantial difficulty managed to unlock the chain. Sharply exhaling in annoyance, he quickly tugged down her tracksuit pants and three pairs of g-strings, leaving her in one black pair, and tied up her ankles with the strands of black silk. Just as Amber had wanted to suppress her temper, Brad he was upset with himself for letting her get to him, making him break his resolve to keep a respectful distance.

Backing off the bed, he crossed his arms and leaned against one of the bedposts at the end of it. Amber was becoming used to his watchful stance, and it brought back unpleasant memories - the first time he'd told her she wasn't leaving the house, all the times he'd secretly watched her from the doorway. Soon enough the reckless rage eased out of her, to be replaced with a wary nervousness.

Brad smugly watched the change in her mood. She looked different to the previous night, but still incredibly sexy in the red t-shirt and black lace g-string, her amazing eyes flashing at him with a mix of fright and defiance. Lovely, taut legs futilely jerking against the silk.

"So," he continued calmly, "you were saying?" Arms still crossed, his index finger impatiently tapped his bicep.

Amber opened her mouth and took a deep breath to holler more abuse at him, then she hesitated, remembering exactly where that had gotten her last night. He'd enjoyed it when she talked dirty, it made it more satisfying for him when he took her.

"Amber?" he pressed warningly. "I'm giving you a very generous opportunity."

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped.

"An apology would be nice," Brad shrugged, smirking.

Amber bit her lip fretfully. She'd rather eat dirt and die than apologise to him. But if she didn't...

"I can go and get the vial?" he said persuasively. "You enjoyed that last night, didn't you?"

"Fine! I. Am. Sorry," Amber spat out each word like poison.

"I could really make you sorry," Brad replied softly, fixing his blue gaze on her black g-string, admiring her exposed buttocks underneath when she slightly raised her knees, trying to pull her ankles free. He wanted to sink his teeth into one of those deliciously firm, curved cheeks, but he knew wouldn't be able to stop there.

"Brad, I officially apologise for whatever offence I may have caused you," Amber said with icy politeness, though her voice was laced with sarcasm.

Brad nodded, then tilted his head at her. "Ok, baby. I forgive you," he said flippantly. Without another word he left, shutting the door behind him, leaving Amber strapped down to the bed with a look of utmost outrage on her lovely face.

Brad slowly walked down the stairs, congratulating himself on resisting the urge to tear the lace from between Amber's legs and bury his face in her pussy. Clearly her apology was a mockery, but it was also a small victory. Every other time, Brad had ignored her protests and taken what he wanted without hesitation. Now, Amber was going to learn he could compromise, and that knowledge might encourage good behaviour, even compliance. Remembering how it felt to be inside her, Brad genuinely wasn't sure if he had the patience. Baby steps aside, his current objective was to get Amber into the lingerie.