Beloved Beast (2 page)

“Shit!” she exclaimed. “What am I going to do now?”

She looked around the hut. It was small, but clean, and much tidier than her own apartment. You could tell at first sight that it was a man’s pad. There were no ornaments in the hut, not even a picture. Every object was either a tool, a weapon or a piece of furniture. Everything had a purpose.

She spotted her ripped top. There was no point putting that back on. But she could not remain naked either. Involuntarily her thoughts strayed back to the love game which had shaken her to the core of her soul. Never before had she cried out of pure lust whilst having sex. Mario had been a good lover who knew how to satisfy a woman, yet he had never caused such intense reactions in her as this Ramon had done. But perhaps it was simply a reaction to the shock of the experience she had had or an attack of the Stockholm Syndrome.

Crissy swung her legs off the bed and stood up. She was sure to be able to find one of Ramon’s shirts here. He had torn hers, so it was only right and proper that she should put on one of his. She went straight to a shelf with a cloth hanging over it, and pulled the curtain aside. And indeed there were some shirts, beautifully clean and folded, and also trousers and other items of clothing in different compartments. She took one of the t-shirts and pulled it over her head. It hung baggily right down to her knees and it made her laugh. What would he do if he saw her like this? Laugh at her? Or invite her back into bed and make love to her? This image created a tingling sensation of anticipation.

She had no idea as to what she should now do. She spotted a few books on the shelf, but she was not calm enough right now to read. She was far too excited. She did not need to do any tidying up here. Everything was clean and tidy – everything except the bed. So she set about flattening the sheets and straightening the pillows and the blanket. That was quickly done and again she stood, clueless, in the hut, and looked impatiently at the door. Where could Ramon have gone? And when would he return? Sighing, she slumped into the only armchair and waited.

She could not sit still for long and just as she got up from the armchair she heard footsteps on the wooden veranda. Her heart began to beat harder. The door opened and Ramon stepped into the hut. His eyes fell upon her and a fleeting smile came over his lips. He put a wrapped package onto the table that he had been carrying under his arm and he closed the door.

Crissy stood there, as if rooted to the spot, and watched his every move. What sort of magic was it that made her wish he would make love to her again – that created in her this incredible desire, as no other man had ever done? As if in a trance she moved towards him when he stretched out his hand to her. Somehow she was fascinated by the dominance that he radiated. She found it reassuring rather than condescending. How naturally she nestled into his arms and lifted up her face to him. He put a hand beneath her chin and brushed her lip with his thumb. This small, harmless touch was enough to make her tremble and groan.

“How do you do that?” she asked huskily.

“What?” he asked, and stroked his other hand down her back, making her shudder again.

“That!” she said. “Make me quiver and lose the ability to think clearly.”

“Is that so?” he whispered hoarsely and held her still more tightly. 

“Yes,” she murmured breathlessly.

He lifted her into his arms and put her onto the table. With one fluid movement he had pulled her t-shirt over her head and was looking at her longingly. He moved his hand over her breasts and she bent her head back, forcing her breasts towards him. Ramon bent down and covered her nipple with his lips. She clung onto him and groaned with yearning.

“You are so unbelievably beautiful,” he murmured into her breasts. “Lie back and open yourself up for me.”

She laid herself onto her back on the table, using the package as a pillow, and spread her legs, expecting him to take her now. Instead of that he knelt down and kissed his way up her thighs to her throbbing womanhood. He pleasured her with his tongue until she was rendered senseless. She gasped and writhed beneath his caresses.

“Say my name,” he whispered. “Say it!”

“Ramon! Ramon, just don’t stop now!”

As she climaxed, she called out his name loudly. At top speed he removed his trousers and thrust into her. With quick, hard movements he caused her to call out his name a second time before he lost himself in her.

“D
o you want
to have a bath?” asked Ramon, once they had recovered a little from their act of love.

“Out there with the alligators?” she asked, horrified.

“No, I’ve got a bathtub. In the bathroom,” he answered, grinning.

“In the bathroom?”

She looked around the hut. There was only a kitchen area and a living area. There was no bath to be seen. She had already wondered whether he had such a thing as a toilet here.

Ramon helped her down from the table and took her hand.

“Come here!”

With no hesitation she followed him outside. He led her around the hut and to her amazement there were two more rooms built onto the back of it. One was a toilet and the other was the
bathroom
. Here there was an old bathtub with legs, such as she had only seen in old movies and she uttered an ecstatic cry. She was very sweaty and the thought of a bath was more than enticing.

“I’ll fetch water for you,” he said, and left her alone.

It was a while before he brought the water. Once Crissy had climbed into the bath Ramon turned to walk away.

“Thank you!” she called after him.

He stopped for a second without turning round, then shrugged his shoulders and left. Crissy followed him with her eyes. This man was puzzling her more and more. That was probably why she was so fascinated by him. That and the knowledge that, here, he could do anything to her that he wanted. She would not be able to do anything about it – on the one hand this was a frightening thought and yet at the same time appealing. Her fascination for her rescuer, or perhaps more accurately – her kidnapper – had made her forget, for now, that her ex-fiancé’s Mafia-family would rather see her dead than alive.

After Crissy had finished bathing she climbed out and left the bathroom. When she set eyes on Ramon, who was swimming in the dark waters washing around the island, she held her breath with tension. In a panic she wondered what she should do if he were attacked by alligators. He now swam towards her and came out of the water. He had let his hair down and it fell, wet, onto his chest. Crissy felt that he looked like a mixture between a mystical god and a demon – one side beautiful and one side terrible. Yet his deformed side did not reduce the erotic effect. In fact it enhanced his animal appeal.

He looked at her in such a way that her body tingled from top to toe. It was incomprehensible to her that this man could affect her with his look alone, but he could. She felt his look as if he were touching her and a shudder of desire shook her body. Could she no longer think of anything else other than becoming one with this splendidly-built man? The answer was obvious – no! Since meeting him she seemed to have become a nymphomaniac. She had never behaved like this before. But the fact was that she lost all reason when she was near him.

“I have something for you!” Ramon broke the silence and indicated with a nod of the head that she should follow him.

Back in the hut he took the package off the table and gave it to her. She looked at him in astonishment. What could be in this package? And where did he get it from in this swamp?

“Open it up!”

She did as he said and opened the package that had been wrapped in parcel paper. She shrieked with delight when she saw the pile of women’s clothing. She looked at each piece one by one. There was a short-sleeved blouse, two t-shirts, dark green three-quarter-length trousers, a burgundy red stretch-material dress and underwear.

“Amazing!” she exclaimed, and she beamed at him.

“The dress isn’t particularly suitable for wearing out there, but I could imagine what you’d look like in it, so I thought I‘d bring it”, he explained huskily, but the way he looked at her spoke volumes.

“Where … where did you get these things from? There can’t be a clothes shop near here, can there?”

“You wouldn’t believe it, but we do actually have something similar to a shop here. They’re second-hand things, but they’re clean. Jeanette has washed them.”

“Who’s Jeanette?”

“A friend.”

Involuntarily Crissy felt a pang of jealousy. Was something going on between him and this Jeanette?

“She’s Brodie’s wife. They don’t live far from here.” explained Ramon.

Crissy was filled with relief and she smiled.

“Do lots of people live … here?”

“I only know of eleven people, but they’ll be a few more on the other side.” He looked at her. “Don’t you want to put something on?”

It was only now that she registered that she was still naked. She laughed bashfully and picked up a yellow t-shirt and the green trousers.

Once she was dressed she tried to untangle her wet, blond locks. He had given her a comb but she was not used to combing her hair blind.

“I could do with a mirror. Where have you …?”

“I don’t have one,” said Ramon cuttingly. “I don’t need a mirror to tell me what sort of a monster I’ve become.”

Crissy turned to look at him. Her heart overflowed with compassion when she saw the pain in his eyes – his angry expression tried to hide this. She put a hand on the scarred side of his face.

“You’re not a monster to me,” she whispered. “For me you’re …”

He grabbed her hand firmly and stared at her sinisterly.

“What you’re feeling is nothing but a mind-game. You’re my prisoner and your mind knows that. It’s telling you that I can be your friend if you’re
very
nice to me. A mind-game! – A trick to secure your safety and nothing more.”

“No!” she contradicted him. “It’s not like that. I …”

He grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her head back painfully.

“Yes it is!” he snarled. That
is
how it is! You know that I could kill you.” He turned her head so that she could see his set of weapons. “Which weapon should I use to kill you, Crissy?”

She trembled and closed her eyes. She neither wanted to see the weapons nor his face, contorted with hatred.

“If you try to escape I could fire an arrow into your back with my crossbow. If you get on my nerves I could cut your throat open with one of my knives. Which weapon should I use to kill you, Crissy? Tell me!”

His grasp became tighter and she whimpered.

“Open your eyes!” he demanded, and she obeyed.

“Please, Ramon, you’re hurting me.”

He smiled cynically.

“Am I? I can see the fear in your eyes. I could hurt you a whole lot more and you know that. I wouldn’t need any of these weapons to kill you. You’re so small and delicate – with my bare hands I could squeeze all the breath out of you, or I could break your neck as if you were a small bird.
That
is why you’re offering yourself to me. A
mind-game
! If you give your body to me; if you offer yourself to me willingly, so that I can have pleasure from you, then … then I may let you live.”

The last few words came in nothing more than a hoarse whisper. He pulled her to his body and pressed his lips against her mouth. Despite her fear she responded to his brutal kiss. Once again she was inflamed by him. Mind-game or not – she languished in his kisses, his touches, his erection that he pressed against her with the promise of limitless passion.

“I don’t care why,” he murmured into her ear, “as long as you desire me.”

Her new t-shirt tore as he pulled it off her in one hasty movement.  Carelessly he dropped it to the floor before opening the zip of her trousers and helping her to take them off. She stood before him, wearing nothing but lace panties. Her full breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing. The pink tips were fully erect. He brushed her nipples very gently with the palm of his hand and she groaned in ecstasy. Her whole body quivered.

“What do you want, Crissy?” he whispered huskily.

She looked at him questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

He put a hand under her chin and lifted it up. He looked deeply into her eyes and she reached out for his arm to steady herself, as this look made her knees so weak that her legs could no longer keep her upright.

“What do you want me to do to you? What are your innermost desires? Tell me!”

“I … I don’t know. I …”

Ramon took a step towards her and pushed her against the rough wooden wall. His face was very near to hers. She could feel his breath on her cheek. She had put her hand on his chest and she could feel his heavy heartbeat. He leaned still closer to her. His damp hair tickled her face. She laid her head back, unable to release herself from his gaze. His brown eyes seemed to penetrate the innermost parts of her soul to find an answer to his question.

“Touch me!” he demanded huskily, and she obeyed.

A deep groan came from his lips and he threw his head back as she touched his cock and caressed him gently. He was a domineering man, there was no question about that. But he was not one of those men who were satisfied with simply taking what they wanted. He needed her – her willingness. She had realised how much he liked arousing her, how he registered her groans with a smile of satisfaction. She had seen the expression of triumph on his face when she called out his name as she climaxed.

“That’s enough!” he panted. “Put your arms around my neck.”

She did so.

Ramon pushed her panties aside, slid his hand under her bottom and lifted her onto his arms. With one powerful thrust he took her and pressed her still harder against the wall. There was nothing to soften his hard thrusts. She whimpered at first, but her own lust grew with every thrust until she could no longer feel the rough wood that chafed her skin. The only thing she could feel now was his erection, which seemed to penetrate deeper and deeper inside her. He used his other hand to touch her until she climaxed, screaming and thrashing. Almost in the same moment he, too, groaning, reached his climax.