Trapped (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX: TRAPPED

Serena awoke with a feeling that something was off.

Her eyes popped open and adrenalin pumped through her as she tried to figure out what had changed.

Then she realized she wasn’t alone on her side of the vehicle.

A warm body was against hers, and as she was about to scream, she recognized the familiar feel of an erect organ against her.

“Steven?” she whispered, as common sense filtered through.

She figured it had to be him spooning her since the last thing she remembered was him coming to the back to stretch out for his sleep opposite her once again.

“Yeah,” Steven said in a way that made her blood rush even faster, his breath warm against her neck.

He sounded very much awake, yet his voice had a low, heavy quality to it.

Serena didn’t know what she expected when she called his name, but the confirmation of his proximity—and the meaning of the erection against her—terrified her.

“Steven, what are you doing here?” she asked quietly and calmly, trying not to give away the panic racing through her and failing miserably as her voice trembled.

“I can’t stay away from you,” he said as calmly as she’d wanted to sound.

Serena knew that if her voice hadn’t betrayed her, surely the jackhammer beat of her heart had. With his nearness, there was no way he couldn’t know her heart was about to beat out of her chest; he had to know he had aroused something in her, even if he couldn’t know for sure if it was fear, anger or desire.

“You’re scaring me,” she said, just managing to squeeze the words out into something audible.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice fuller, sounding almost sincere, “I don’t mean to this time. It’s just...I have to have you near me at all times for your own safety, but being so close to you—it’s doing a real number on me. It’s like my brain shuts down, and some kind of biological imperative kicks in...”

His hand found her thigh and slowly moved up it, making her body come alive even more. Her eyes widened, as if they could help her take in the extra oxygen she so desperately needed despite the huge chunk she had just sucked in at his touch.

Then his voice crawled into her ear again, and her blood rushed faster:

“Do you remember how you felt when you came into this vehicle and saw all that food in front of you after nearly starving to death?” he asked, his voice back to an almost-growl. “Now imagine you had come in here, and before you was a sizzling piece of steak. How much control would you have had then?” His hand was still working its way over and around her thigh, and she felt his pelvic area close in on her in a brief thrust, his cock reminding her of its presence. “I saw you with those granola bars—you wolfed down food like you hadn’t eaten in weeks—which, maybe you hadn’t. Well, Serena, I’m famished. I haven’t ‘eaten’ in weeks and right before me is a juicy steak...”

“Please...” she couldn’t help saying, feeling like some sort of clock had run out.

“I’m trying, Serena,” he said, his hand squeezing her leg, “I’m fighting it as much as I can, but combined with the way I feel about you...”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, suddenly wondering if he meant something beyond the obvious.

“I...I have to have you,” he said, flipping her onto her back as he positioned himself over her.

“Wait!” Serena went into full-blown panic mode. “This isn’t right! Gregory...”

“Is dead!” Steven bellowed. Then he brought his voice back down. “He’s gone, Serena—there’s no coming back from that. He would have wanted me to take care of you.”

“But not like this!”

“Serena...”

As he kissed her neck, his hand went to the waistband of her pants as if to take it off. Her head leaned back without her permission, offering him more, and despite herself, she eagerly anticipated him sliding her bottoms off.

“I knew it,” he said, making her snap out of her momentary wave of surrender.

“Knew what?” she said breathlessly.

“That you want me. You want me to do this, but you feel guilty—like you have to say no. Protest all you want if it makes you feel better; I’ll take care of that guilt for you.”

“Oh god, Steven...”

He was so right, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

His fingers found their way under her pants and her underwear, and she didn’t have to look at his face to see the satisfaction of knowing just how much she wanted him. His fingers played in her slickness before he ran his hand over her other thigh. She shuddered in pleasure at the almost casual touch.

“I’m sorry, you can’t...you can’t ask me to stop,” he said, his voice low, his breathing labored.

“Fuck,” she whispered in an expression of pure terror, wondering if she should even try to fight him off in some pretense of protest.

“Your wish is my command,” he said.

“Please, Steven...”

“I aim to.”

“But you told me...!”

“I know, Serena, and I’m sorry. But I can’t...” He was shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly pulling off her pants in a move that astounded her with its efficiency. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again in her ear, sending a tingling through her. But “sorry” wasn’t what his hands said as they held her wrists near her ears. “I’m sorry,” he said as he continued pulling off her clothes, but “sorry” wasn’t what his hands said as they took off his own clothes. “I am so, so sorry,” he said softly, right into her ear before nibbling on it and sending her into a frenzy, her body raising toward him in a desperate, silent request.

She resisted grabbing on to him.

His hands didn’t seem sorry as they parted her legs, and his body seemed everything but sorry as she felt him hovering over her, sending all her senses into high alert.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he whispered. “I tried...I really did. But you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he said as he placed himself at her entrance.

Then he changed positions, and she suddenly felt his lips on her stomach. Her head fell back in pleasure again, the touch of his lips sending jolts through her.

She soon realized in horror that he had started kissing his way down.

She knew what was coming, and she knew she was powerless to resist.

“Go ahead,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to stop.”

She had no words, no defense against her desire or his.

His mouth at her nether lips made her jump again, then she found herself surrendering to the skillful flicking of his tongue on her sensitive, feminine parts. She couldn’t stop the moans from escaping her, the need to grab on to his head as he licked her into full submission. She bit back against begging him to take her.

When she felt him rub her entrance with the head of his member, her back arched again as she ached for him to enter her. She was well-oiled and ready for him, but she didn’t dare tell him to go on, nor could she tell him to stop. Either way, she knew if he kept playing with her the way he was, she would explode.

She heard him call her name almost apologetically before he pushed himself inside of her.

They both cried out in unison, the pleasure of his organ filling her, and she couldn’t stop herself from calling his name back as he started moving in her, massaging all the right spots, making her helpless.

Her body betrayed her, her arousal dominating every other emotion.

Loyalty to an idea no longer meant a thing—all that registered was the feel of him pleasuring her, the beautiful tension.

She wanted to say: “yes” with every thrust, the movement of him inside of her felt so right. He felt made for her—his size and rigidity more than fitting, and his motions made her dizzy.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like
, she thought, not recalling a time it felt this good with anyone else.

As his hands found their way all over her body, her arousal heightened, and as one hand made its way under her neck, fingers crawling into her hair, and the strength of his thrusts grew, she wondered how she was able to hang on even one second longer before erupting in orgasmic pulsations.

His pressure and speed kept growing, and feeling the orgasm grow in him made her own reach up to greet his. He suddenly grabbed her hair and his final thrusts sent her into the grip of exploding pleasure, just before she felt him withdraw from her body, at a point where she knew his orgasm was a few seconds behind hers.

As she slowly came down from the heights he’d sent her, she lightly wondered why he chose not to spill his seed inside of her, but after relishing the aftermath and seeing shooting stars, she was soon in the arms of sleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN: RESISTANCE

Serena woke to a warm body spooning her, saw the pale arm draped around her midsection, and immediately went into panic mode.

Her mind raced as she remembered what had taken place, realizing that what she and Steven had experienced had not been a dream: she’d made love to her husband’s best friend.

Guilt ran through her, alongside resentment toward Steven for making her betray her dead husband.

Her waking seemed to stir him a bit, and she froze as his arm came to life, squeezing her tighter.

“Hey,” he said, his voice muffled but with an unmistakable satisfied quality to it.

“I hate you,” she said, unable to look at him.

“Why? ‘Cause you know I’m smiling right now? ‘Cause you can’t deny me what I want anymore? I’m crushed,” he said in a tone that made her hate him even more.

“How could you make me do that?”

“I’m pretty sure I asked your permission, and I’m pretty sure you gave it to me.”

The way he said his last words made her want to jerk her elbow back into his stomach.

She never wanted to let him know how much she wanted him, and now there was no way of taking it back.

Distract
, she thought.
Engage him in something besides your vulnerability.

She forced her next words out with difficulty, despite being genuinely curious:

“You...pulled out. Why?”

“You know how I feel about kids,” he said. “Never wanted ‘em, and nothing’s changed. I don’t know what your status is, but I doubt you’ve been faithfully taking the pill every day in the past month or so, even if you were on it before. I’m not interested in planting any seeds.”

Serena remembered the topic coming up before—in fact, she’d brought it up one day when Steven had come to visit her and Gregory. Steven had been dating a girl at the time, and although Serena was aware he didn’t see his life in the long-term, convinced his chances of dying young were higher than his chances of surviving, she wondered if he had started entertaining the possibility of someday becoming a father. She knew that sometimes romantic partners changed people’s minds about such things; she’d seen it happen.

“No,” he’d said when she asked him if he could see himself with kids someday, and his tone left no room for doubt that he meant it.

From her husband, Serena knew that Steven had never seen such a life for himself—even before joining the military, and actually seemed a bit disgusted by children. He didn’t care to be around them for any reason, not even when Gregory’s sister or a close, mutual friend of theirs had one.

“Good,” Serena said, as coldly as she could. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about this; in fact, you should make another stop somewhere to find condoms and make sure no mistakes happen.”

Serena didn’t know why, but she’d felt almost offended by his words, despite knowing he was simply speaking his truth.

She curled herself up a bit more as if it would put actual distance between them.

* * *

Steven found himself bristling at Serena’s words, although he realized it was probably more a reaction to the way she’d said them than what she’d actually said.

How could Serena possibly take it personally? She
knew
he never wanted kids. Even in high school he had to restrain himself from looking at his friends like they had lost their minds when they spoke about “having a family someday.” What the hell did that even mean?

He didn’t get the logic of family beyond passing on genes—his own had been thorns in his side, and he often wondered why his mother had even bothered to have him.

As far as he was concerned, his brother, Derek, could do his part for their family—Steven had no desire to run or clean up after some helpless little human. Kids were a weakness, a liability. A soft spot too easily poked by enemies—that is, when the parents actually cared for them.

No one needed or wanted kids beyond selfish reasons anyway, and he was considerate of the world enough not to afflict it with his progeny, or his progeny with him.

But who did Serena think she was, dictating to him?

“You think you’re still in control, do you?” he asked her quietly, and enjoyed the feeling of her going still. He knew the adrenalin of fear had started rapidly passing through her and the thought of it whet his desire more. He imagined her eyes rounding in worry, knowing what was coming.

God, he was going to enjoy breaking her down.

“What?” she asked in a shaky voice, like she had no idea what he was talking about.

“You think I don’t still own you?”

“Steven, please—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t mean anything by what I said—I was agreeing with you!”

“You were telling me
you’re
in charge, Serena, but you’re not. And I’ll show you how much you’re not,” he said, positioning her beneath him again. But like before, he gave her time to refuse him, and he kept her mouth free to protest him by nibbling her neck.

His cock hardened more at the moan that escaped her.

He gave the other side of her neck the same treatment, then brought his lips to her mouth.

She turned her head away, quickly and jarringly, clearly refusing his kiss.

He brought his hand to her jaw and forced her face forward, but didn’t try again.

“I’m not kissing you,” she squeezed out of her clenched mouth.

“Why not? You just let me fuck you.” Pleasure surged through him at the memory, the fact that he could now say it.

“That’s different. No kissing, Steven.”

So she had found another way to refuse him? She had started another game?

He was down to play, but he decided to pry the difference out of her later.

For now, he worked her up into a heaving, helpless pile of flesh not-quite-silently pleading for his domination with desperate moans.

As he plunged into her again, he suddenly realized that he wanted more than just her quiet acceptance; he wanted her to beg him for it, and eventually, he’d figure out a way to get her to finally let go completely, and let him kiss her.

* * *

As Steven lay spent, this time on top of her, his heartbeat slowly decreasing in speed, Serena found herself lost in thought.

He’d been rougher with her this time around, as if mad at her for something.

Had she actually angered him by refusing to kiss him? Why would he care about that? He clearly only wanted her for her body—what difference did it make if she kept her mouth and heart out of their sexual encounters?

Serena was struck by the realization that her heart was a real concern—that she was actually in emotional danger.

Although physically powerless to stop him from having his way with her body, she figured she still had control over how much of her spirit he could conquer, but she realized in horror that even that control was waning.

She had known women who were able to keep up sexual relationships without becoming emotionally attached for a while, and had even done so herself at some point long ago. But the way Steven was able to jar her, make her feel almost helpless to his mercy yet desire that helplessness—she knew it meant that he could annihilate her defenses.

An image from an old video game suddenly came to mind—the gruesome memory of the finishing move exacted on her when she played with a neighbor once. Her neighbor’s character, after beating hers to a pulp, reached into her character’s chest and ripped her heart out, holding the still-beating organ up triumphantly.

She had met just one guy before her husband who’d had the power to exact such a move on her metaphorically, but he never realized it—or decided not to take advantage of it—and when they eventually broke up, the detachment she had retained helped her get over their relationship.

But Steven seemed to know his power, and as ruthless as he was in seducing her, he let her keep some of hers for some reason she couldn’t fathom.

She knew if he wanted to, he could force his tongue down her throat and keep it there until she joined in, but he chose not to. He had the power to tie her to him with a child, but he chose not to. And she had the distinct impression he knew he had the power to wear her down and make her emotionally dependent on him, that he could exact a finishing move on her—and that he fully planned to do so.

How else could he get her to kiss him?

The problem was, was it all just a game to him?

She wanted to beg him not to do it—to not treat her like some game board piece or arcade amusement since she
didn’t
really know him, and therefore, could not convince herself that he wouldn’t do such a thing to her.

He had said: “I wouldn’t do that to you” to her once, but it was for something she’d like to think most men wouldn’t do. But play with a girl’s heart? She had seen that one play out far too often; many men didn’t seem to have a problem with that. It seemed to boost their ego to have some poor girl longing for them, unable to leave them, even if for their own good.

Serena let out a heavy breath.

She had no idea what game Steven was playing.

She understood he was quenching some long-sitting thirst so she suspected he would take her until he felt like he’d had his fill of her, but then what? They’d gone far beyond a superficial friendship, but in the new world, what would they be? And why the hell did she even care?

Serena wasn’t sure if her vulnerability was exacerbated by their circumstances or not, considering half the world had collapsed, and loved ones had been rapidly snuffed out, but she figured those factors had to have something to do with how she was feeling; after all, Steven had saved her. In this new, confusing world rapidly degenerating to survival basics, Steven was taking her to a place where she could continue to survive and flourish.

He was her hero in a way—although she’d never tell him that—so of course her emotions and thoughts were clouded.