Abduction (39 page)

Vaughn would not let his fury at Conrad suggest itself at this moment when it would make Devan feel less desired. Vaughn knew that he would be made to do this to her. Made to force her over the threshold of her shyness. So he acted before Conrad had to tell him, before Conrad’s order could make her feel any more that he was being coerced, as if pleasing her would be an unpleasant task. He wanted her to feel, even through the barrier of Conrad’s presence, his gaze, the fact that he had orchestrated 351

this, that he was eager for her. He decided that, despite Conrad’s violent interruption of their fragile courtship, he would make this, her first oral caress, as tender, as erotic as he could.

He came forward, nearer to her, and tenderly kissed each of her knees. Then, very slowly, very gently, he pushed her knees, apart, opened her thighs. Nuzzling tenderly at her softly parted knees he kissed again, this time where her knees had pressed together a moment before, then just a kiss higher, moving his soft, parted lips over soft, parted thighs, then letting the tip of his tongue brush against her, here and there, before giving her a gentle, rousing bite that made her suck in her breath and tense her body against the tickling ripples radiating through her from the spot where his mouth was. Though she was trying to calm herself, her sharp intake of breath was like a gasp. Slowly, slowly, he pressed her legs further apart.

She knew that her sex was exposed to him. Even more than the shame of her utter nakedness before him she felt mortified that Vaughn would see that she was wet, know how excited she had been at being forced to suck him, at having her breasts exposed, caressed by Conrad. She felt him spread her legs, open her, expose her cunt.

His broad shoulders came between her knees, and the closer in he moved, the higher his lips and tongue and teeth trailed up the delicate flesh of her thighs, the farther his shoulders forced her legs to part. He ran his hands up the outsides of her thighs, laying his palms to rest on her hips, his fingers pointed inward, toward her belly button.

Then, just a tiny little inch from her exposed, fragrant sex, he kissed her inner thighs—

light little kisses at first, then a gentle bite that sent chills down to her toes and up, through her groin, to her belly. Then, the lightest, softest little kiss, on the smooth soft 352

skin of her mound, just above her slit. Her breath came fast and shallow. He made her wait, wondering when he would touch her again. She thought she might orgasm just from the excitement of her anticipation.

When she felt him again, it was a gentle wet tongue, softly touching down at the base of her clit, just for a moment. Then another pause. Another tiny kiss. Then, just as softly as he could he let his tongue drift along her moist folds, tasting her delicately, holding back from sinking into her with his hungry mouth. She was absolutely aching for him now, dying for him to press his mouth to her. He kept her in unbearable suspense, giving her just a hint of what she was waiting for. With every little touch of his tongue she let out a tiny, irrepressible gasp—that little gasp that had made him weak with desire the night they had first kissed. The smell of her, that taste of her was stirring him deeply, making him ache for her, resurrecting the cock she had drained with her mouth such a short while ago.

Gradually he was opening her, exploring her, stroking into her deeper and deeper, still only with teasing forays among the delicate crenellations. He knew that she was deeply aroused, and he was being very careful not to let her come too quickly.

Between kisses he would pull back, look at her, her face, her expression flickering moment by moment between shocked embarrassment, startled rapture, and heavy-lidded, almost drowsy submission as the sensations of her body overwhelmed the tormenting thoughts and conflicting emotions. He'd look, too, at her cunt, flushing deeper and deeper pink with arousal, flaring in vivid contrast to the pale flesh of her thighs and belly, and the sight would drive a fresh surge of arousal coursing into his groin. Then he would come in again to caress her slit, end to end with his tongue, draw 353

her between his lips, licking at her even as he sucked and pulled and gently nibbled.

Then he would back off again, watch her belly rise and fall with her excited breath.

She was aching to come so badly she wanted to reach down between her legs and touch herself, rub her fingers back and forth over her clit until she climaxed. But she held on, waiting for the touch she was ready to beg for. Finally, finally he began to really eat her. He put his lips to her slit, moving his tongue back and forth over her aroused clit. She was moaning now, almost sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her hips, holding her immobile against the kisses that were driving her wild.

Then, shocking her with a brutal thrill, he thrust his tongue into her, fucking her startled virgin cunt with his darting tongue. Her back tried to arch, her hips tried to buck, but she was frozen there, clasped in his arms as he tongued her to a writhing frenzy. She came, crying out, his tongue still thrusting into her as she shuddered, breathless, almost crying, against his mouth.

He did not stop. It was unbearable. He left his fucking and came up to nurse at her swollen clit. Now his tongue, which seconds earlier had been so firm and urgent, had gone soft, tenderly caressing her. Every now and then he'd relent, take his mouth from her, let her hot wet cunt feel the caress of the cool air, then stun her all over by bringing the wet heat of his mouth back to her, licking her delicately, all along her sensitive folds, finally returning to her throbbing clit. Then he settled there, teasing her, brushing the aching bud with his tongue again and again. Suddenly her spasms hit again as she came a second time, his mouth greedily lapping and sucking until she collapsed.

Vaughn wanted to take Devan into his arms, to hold her as the tremors of her climax subsided, but Conrad would not permit it. Conrad found himself almost jealous, watching his Devan succumbing so deliciously under the mouth of this interloper. But overwhelming any such thoughts was an arousal almost beyond even his endurance.

With a barely suppressed sigh he ordered Vaughn to stand. Then, keeping his eyes locked vigilantly upon Vaughn, who easily had five inches and three stone on him, Conrad told Devan to rise and come to him. She stood, a little unsteadily, glanced briefly and shyly at Vaughn, then made her way around the sofa to join Conrad. Letting his guard down for just a moment he let the sight of her face, still flushed and soft with pleasure, the fear in her eyes momentarily displaced with quiet wonder at what had happened to her body. He smiled gently down on her in an almost fatherly appreciation of her execution of her lessons. He was like a father no more as he drew her against him, crossing an arm possessively across her shoulders.

“Now, Vaughn, let’s adjourn to that bedroom down on the left. Kindly lead the way.”

Every shift of scene brought Devan and Vaughn new fear as they wondered what Conrad would make them do next. The two captives sought each other’s eyes but had only a brief second to try to assure and soothe one another. Vaughn moved down the hall and Conrad brought Devan along behind, maintaining a safe distance. When Vaughn had stepped into the bedroom Conrad ordered him to sit on the bed, back to the headboard. Then he tossed the handcuffs to Vaughn and told him to cuff himself to one of the iron bars. When it was done he sent Devan over with a second pair of cuffs to secure Vaughn’s other wrist, and to verify that the first was truly bound. When her 355

task was done Conrad called her back to him and took her with him into the other bedroom.

“On the bed please, Devan, just like Vaughn." He savored her fear for a moment before adding, "I may be gone for a while, so be sure you’ve got the pillows arranged so you’ll be comfortable.”

She didn't like it—the thought of Vaughn chained helplessly to the bed in that other room. The little bit of mellow calm left by all the pleasure of a few moments before evaporated and she went stiff and scared once more. But she did as she was told.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, darling, but this way I’ll be able to focus on other matters, knowing you’re not getting up to any trouble.” He produced another set of cuffs and locked her to her headboard.

“I’ll try not to be too long, love.”

He kissed her warmly on the cheek and left, closing the door as he went. Anxiety numbed and chilled her body as she listened to Conrad's steps as he went out into the hall, turned, entered Vaughn’s bedroom, and closed the door.

Conrad seated himself in the armchair he had moved earlier to the side of the bed. Knowing Vaughn’s eyes were on him, but not meeting them, he drew forth the journal. Vaughn’s face contorted with fresh hatred and anxiety, just as Conrad had known it would. Conrad smiled a big, beaming smile.

“My Devan, or, I should say, our Devan, is a strangely, wonderfully unique girl.

But I think you’ll find, as you know her longer and better, that like everyone, she has predictable aspects to her personality. This journal, for instance.” He tapped the hard cover with an index finger.

“I knew, really without a doubt, that she would have written an account of what had passed between us. Knowing that, of course, I’ve been looking forward to reading it with great anticipation.”

He smiled again, a mischievous, almost boyish smile, and he leaned in a little toward Vaughn to go on in a softer voice with an air of confidentiality.

“As eager as I’ve been to read what’s here, I confess that I’m really excited now.

Rather like a child on Christmas Eve, or the night before his birthday. You may have guessed why. Have you?”

Vaughn sat in silence, knowing Conrad’s interminable self-indulgent monologue was bound to continue.

“Answer me, Vaughn. Have you guessed what’s got me so intrigued?”

“No.”

“She lied, Vaughn. She lied! I punished her quite lightly for her transgression. In fact, really, it wasn’t a punishment at all, since I knew from times past that she enjoys that sort of lesson. But she couldn’t have known that would be her comeuppance. At the moment when she lied to me, swearing to me that she’d written nothing since arriving here, I sensed she was deeply afraid. Yet, whatever’s in here she felt worth risking my anger. I’m positively giddy with curiosity.”

Conrad saw that Vaughn was trying to discern the meaning in his penetrating gaze, and wondered if Vaughn realized how much he had given away, earlier when Conrad had first shown the journal, and just now, when he had brought it forth once more. Yes, there was definitely something delightful awaiting him in those pages—

Devan’s behavior and Vaughn’s teased and promised. He opened the notebook and his eyes fell once more on Devan’s script.

"I confess I'm at a loss, though. Nothing of what Devan wrote seems worth such a gamble. She was embarrassed, of course, to watch me read over her words about how she felt as I took her, as I touched her," Conrad savored the anguish on Vaughn's face as he went on, "and especially, I'm sure, her admissions of how much she enjoyed those illicit caresses, and, best of all, the way my coercion and her fear intensified all those arousing sensations and emotions." Conrad gave Vaughn a teasing grin. "But I'm fairly certain she had no illusions that she'd managed to hide any of that from me in the first place. She knew perfectly well that, however satisfying it might have been, I didn't need to read her journal to know that well before she ran off, she was dying for me to fuck her."

What a poker face on the man—barely a twitch.

"So what could it be, then? Hmmm? What about this diary had our darling Devan so daring and defiant?"

He looked over and smiled knowingly at Vaughn, as if they were two boys with a clubhouse secret. Still smiling at Vaughn, his eyes full of mischief, Conrad closed the journal. Vaughn froze in anticipation, still holding that stare. He forced his eyes to remain locked on Conrad’s, forced them not to drift down, to look at the journal still in that man’s hands. Was he satisfied? Did he think he’d seen it all? Then Conrad’s smile went up a bit more at the corners and he had the aspect of a child who has solved a riddle and who is eager to show off his cleverness to his classmates.

Conrad’s eyes left Vaughn’s and drifted down to the notebook. He pressed the article between two splayed palms, scrutinizing its narrow profile. There, between the cardboard covers, were the white pages between. Vaughn watched as a revolting look of smug satisfaction crept into Conrad’s features as he studied those pages. That expression might be knocked off his face with a tire iron, Vaughn thought.

Conrad was teasing himself, drawing out the delight he was now certain still awaited him. Those white page edges were not uniform. Those closest to the front cover, those covered with Devan’s writing, had turned a soft gray and gone a bit ragged from being turned and handled. Then, where her writing left off, the white edges were crisp and pristine. And then, beyond that borderland of perfect white, more pages had been slightly sullied with use. There was more.

Conrad opened the journal once more, from the back cover this time, and he laughed a silent little laugh as he turned to the first page covered in writing that was not hers. It was Vaughn’s. He looked up at his prisoner, whose face was now resigned, gave him a smile, and fell to reading.

Vaughn watched, burning with fury and indignation as Conrad’s eyes moved over the pages. A little over an hour later, it was done. Conrad knew Vaughn’s painful secret.

“I hate to appear self-centered,” Conrad said, not without an ironic note, “but at moments like this I wonder if I’m not the best living proof that there’s no god. If there were, could such a wicked character as me be met, always, with such delicious good fortune? To find Devan living here with you of all people! And to have it revealed to me, so neatly, with this double journal, like a gift!”

Vaughn looked on with a vague sense of astonishment, not at Conrad’s unabashed glee, but because in that moment, he could not deny, there was something almost endearing in Conrad’s eager display of his happiness.