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Stalking Amber

By: Bellie444



Amber finished locking up and tightly wrapped her cloak about her as she stepped out into the cold night. She was irritated, it was the third time in a week she'd had to close shop because her manager, George, had developed a tendency to get drunk at lunch and stumble home to sleep it off. 

Although George was a really nice guy and going through an ugly divorce, Amber was done covering for him - his recent behaviour was so out of character, he obviously had a problem. First thing in the morning, she'd confront him about it and demand he either get help or she'd report him to corporate.

The streets weren't empty, there were a few late-night shoppers scurrying home with their groceries, rugged up with eyes downcast to fend off the bitter wind. Amber's coat wasn't nearly warm enough to block out the chill, she hadn't banked on working late again. The coat was a lovely beige, velvet-soft material, pleasant on her skin, if not warming. Though not practical for the current weather, it did give her small frame a charming appearance. 

It seemed to match nicely with her naturally ash-blond hair, and flatteringly contrasted with the crystal blue colour of her eyes. Her classically-shaped lips were currently pursed together from both her foul mood and discomfort, giving her a pouting school-girl expression. In her hurry and frustration, she walked briskly, and didn't take notice of the tall man who had been loitering outside her work, who was now confidently striding along in her wake. 

As she reached her car, her breath left her in a surprised huff as a large form suddenly pressed up behind her, pinning her to the vehicle.

"Don't scream," a deep voice murmured into her ear. "Give me your keys."

Amber grit her teeth. Fucking fantastic. On top of everything, she was about to have her car stolen. Fumbling around her coat, she handed them over her shoulder, a little scared to look back at her attacker.

"Now, get in the car," the voice ordered, and at this demand ribbons of fear began to twirl in her stomach.

"O-oh, but-" Amber protested, turning her head to the side, not sure what to say, only knowing she didn't want to get into the car with this man. The car's glass and metal against her chest felt awfully chilly, and in contrast his body behind her was unusually warming.

"It's not an option," he cut her off, and Amber felt a large hand slide up her back and grip her shoulder. "I'm not going to leave you here in the cold, I'll take you home."

"Uhhh..." Amber trailed off nervously, uncomfortable with the way his hand began to move on her shoulder, thumb gently massaging her. 

Was he a modern-day Robbin Hood? Would he really take her home? Though he'd told her it wasn't an option. Wide blue eyes darting left and right, Amber realised the wind might mute her cry for help. And perhaps the man would snap her neck for it. She felt his strength against her, easily holding her immobile without an effort.

The hand on her shoulder suddenly spun her around to face him, and she gaped up into his handsome face. Chestnut brown hair curled rakishly across his forehead, and his eyes were a darker, more concentrated blue than hers. The ends of his lips were curled upwards with humour as he took in her startled expression. Smiling smugly, he parted the front of his black coat and fear flashed up her spine as she saw the long knife under his belt.

"We're being watched," he said pleasantly, "so you'd better kiss me, and make it convincing. Just pretend I'm your boyfriend and pulled a lover's prank."

Amber's heart both leapt and sank - someone had seen she was in trouble, but she had to convince them she was fine. Thinking about the knife, Amber smiled tremulously at the man and tentatively reached up to put her arms about his neck as he bent forward, one large arm circling her waist and pulling her body firmly against his. 

His other hand moved up between them to tenderly cup her face and tilt it upwards. Pressing his warm mouth to hers, his lips were soft and gentle, and slowly they parted and she followed his lead, sharply inhaling into his mouth as she felt his erection press into her stomach. After about ten slow seconds, he pulled back and grinned down at her. 

"I think they're convinced," he said, peering cheekily to the side where a group of three had changed direction and were retreating towards the shopping centre. 

"Please," Amber breathed, feeling weak in his embrace, not sure whether her cheeks were flushed from the cold or her unexpected intimacy with a complete stranger. "I don't need a ride home. I have more shopping to do. Take the car." 

She winced as he answered her plea with a chuckle. 

"Get in the car," he repeated, and though his smile was affectionate, there was a steely glint in his blue eyes that discouraged argument. 

After feeling his erection, Amber knew he wasn't only interested in seeing her safely home. She told herself not to worry, when they got to her apartment her boyfriend, Fred, would beat the crap out of him. Somewhat cheered by this possibility, Amber meekly allowed him to escort her to the passenger side. Before he closed the door, he straightened with a knowing smile.

"If you run as I'm getting into the driver's seat," he told her, "you'll discover I'm something of a track star. You'll also discover what painful regret feels like." And on this threat, he firmly shut the door on her gorgeous shocked face. 

On the drive he didn't say a word, and Amber discreetly peeked at him now and then to try and figure him out. He didn't seem like an uncivilised criminal. Thoughtfully drumming his fingers along the steering wheel, he appeared to be casually pleased with himself and completely at ease despite the carjacking, like they were a happily married couple driving home after a romantic dinner. As the car pulled to the curb, Amber jumped in her seat as she looked out the window, realising he never asked her for directions, and she had no idea where they were.

"You- you said-" she began uneasily.

Cutting the engine and taking out the key, he looked at her for the first time since they got into the car. Amber felt her heart stop as she heard his next words.

"I said I'd take you home," he confirmed, as though stating a simple truth, "and I have. My home."

"I-I-I-" Amber stuttered, sounding as foolish as she felt.

"Yes?" he answered, and again the teasing smile curved his lips. In the next second he was out the door and rounding the car to her side.

"Oh, no! NO!" Amber cried out, and before she could scramble across to the drivers seat, two hands firmly seized her hips and dragged her backwards out of the car as though she was a mere doll. Her scream was cut off as one hand clapped over her mouth and the other circled her waist, lifting her. 

She felt like a child being taken away during a tantrum as she wriggled in his hold, kicking her legs out and squealing against his hand while he steadily carried her up the steps of a large, dark house. Hearing his deep chuckle aggravated her. The bastard wasn't breaking a sweat, and the icing on the cake was that he found her efforts funny.

Setting her down in front of him, his large hand on her mouth firmly held her head back against his chest, and she writhed, kicking against the door, tugging at his hand with both of hers. His other hand efficiently located his keys, opened the front door, and using the force of his body behind her, marched her forward into the house's darkness. 

Kicking the door shut behind him, he sped things up by carrying her along a high-ceilinged dark hallway. When he released her, she spun out of his embrace and landed on the floor, blinking around her as he turned on the lights and leaned his tall frame against the doorway. Large arms crossed, he watched her with amusement.

Looking about her, Amber's fears were confirmed. There was no way he needed her car. The house was large and expensively decorated. Currently in the kitchen, the mint green, marble floor she sat upon looked clean enough to eat off, and shiny enough to see her reflection. As she gazed around in awe of her new surroundings, she almost forgot his presence, and her light eyes fearfully flickered up to meet his blue ones, quietly observing her.

"You can't do this," Amber argued weakly. "This is kidnapping. I want to leave."

The man shrugged his broad shoulders dismissively, still watching her.

"What- what are you going to do to me?" Amber stammered, wanting to know but at the same time dreading the answer.

In response, he shifted against the doorway, his smile grew wider and his navy-blue eyes seemed to glow wickedly.

Amber realised her compliance on the drive over was a huge mistake, she'd taken an incredibly stupid gamble and was now paying the stakes. She nervously picked herself off the floor, careful not to give him a view up her black knee-length skirt as she did so.

She gestured to him weakly. "Please move, so I can get past."

"You should understand something, Amber," he told her firmly, and she gasped at the use of her name. "You won't be leaving this house."

"H-how do you know my name?" she trembled.

"I know a lot of things about you," he breathed, shedding his coat and stepping toward her. He was wearing a fitted black t-shirt, which showed the best of his thick, muscled arms and wide chest. He also wore sky-blue trousers which clearly weren't designed to conceal hard-ons. Glancing down at his discarded coat, he pulled the knife from his waistband and dropped it on top. 

"Oh God, are you some kind of stalker, or what?" Amber exclaimed in fright, stepping back as soon as she saw the knife. "Don't- don't touch me!"

"Don't touch you?!" he repeated, amazed by her naivety. Reaching forward, he grabbed her beige coat and peeled it over her shoulders, and in trying to avoid his touch she hastily twisted out of it, leaving her in a silk navy singlet and black skirt.

"I have a boyfriend, and he'll make you pay for this," she threatened shakily, tripping back from him and placing both palms against the smooth, white wall behind her, feeling its coolness against her bare arms. 

Looking around, it was actually a very large kitchen, the size that would cater well for big family gatherings. It was also very tidy, and there was nothing left out on the clean, bare counters. No frying pan, no knife-block. Amber doubted he'd give her time to rummage through his cupboards in search of a weapon. The man dropped her beige coat on top of his black one and put his hands on his hips. In response to her threat, his eyebrows shot upwards with exaggerated fear. 

"Oh, dear," he replied, with comically feigned surprise, "I didn't think of that. Remind me to be ready for Fred, if he ever figures out where you are." He ended the sentence with a laugh, and Amber's chest seized up with fear. How did he know her boyfriend's name?

"Are you hungry?" he asked, tilting his head at her.

Amber shook her head. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

"I'm Brad. And you're here to be with me," he confirmed simply.

"But I don't want to be here!" she argued, raking an unsteady hand through her blond locks, and despite her fear a heavy frown darkened her fine brow. 

"Well..." Brad replied, shrugging his broad shoulders, "that's too bad." Looking into her face, he straightened up and his expression changed. His breathing quickened as his blue eyes drifted over her pretty face to rest on her full, pink mouth.

"Actually, I am...I am hungry," Amber stammered lamely, noticing the way he was looking at her.

"I think you're lying," Brad grinned, walking up to her until she was pinned between him and the wall, one large hand positioned on either side of her. "I think you're stalling." 

"No," she lied, turning her face to the side as he pressed forward, reaching up to brush away strands of her soft blonde hair and lowering his head to kiss her temple. "I'm hungry, I really am!" she insisted shrilly, feebly pushing against his wide chest. 

"Sure you are," he chuckled, and she squealed as he suddenly gripped her hips and lifted her up and over his shoulder.

"Brad, stop! Please!" she shrieked, struggling as he carried her into the next room, hit the lights, and began to walk up a wide, curved staircase. He didn't answer, he just continued to the top of the navy-carpeted steps, following onto a grey corridor lined with old paintings. The second floor of the house seemed to be illuminated by moonlight shining through a number of tall glass windows. Casually strolling along, he didn't rush as she screamed over his shoulder, calling him every creative insult she could think of. 

"My, my," he commented jovially, and one hand slid from her hip to curve over a perfectly rounded buttock, while the other held her legs down as she tried to kick, "you're a lot more fun than I expected."

Quickly becoming tired from her efforts, Amber pleaded with him. "Please, Brad," she begged breathlessly, as they entered a large bedroom with ocean-blue walls, in the centre of which stood a king-size bed with thick, mahogany posts. "Please, set me down. Let's talk."

"Ok," Brad replied, tossing her onto the bed. Before she could scramble up, he was upon her, and he easily caught her hands and tied each wrist to a black silk scarf, conveniently attached to the bedposts. Arms spread wide, she began to cry, angrily kicking at him as he trapped one leg at a time, securing her ankles to scarves tied to the lower posts. 

Now, she was helpless, spread-eagled on his bed, her gorgeous features sensually illuminated by moonlight. Brad's eyes greedily ran over her soft, flawless skin, blond locks splayed across his pillow, wide pastel-blue eyes blinking at him, lips the colour of fresh raspberries parted as she panted. She looked like a fallen angel who had wandered into a devil's trap. Every delicious inch of her completely at his mercy.

"Oh God, oh God, oh no!" Amber blubbered, straining against the silk as he removed her shoes and sat back on his heels to watch her. 

"You look great," Brad said encouragingly, "just as I imagined." His large chest broadly expanded as he watched her writhe sexily on the bed. He couldn't count how many times he'd masturbated imagining this scenario. 

"At least tell me why!" she cried desperately. "Why me?"

Brad's handsome face was temporarily serious as he thought about it. "I don't know," he said honestly, "I just know how I feel. How I felt when I walked into your shop a few months ago." His face tightened with anger. "How I felt when I saw you with your boyfriend, treating him like he's God's gift to women, when you could be with me instead."

"Please, but I love Fred," Amber sobbed, tears running down her face, petrified that Brad might be a psycho-killer and she'd never see Fred again, never tell him one last time that she loves him.

"You don't say that in front of me!" he shouted, angrily slamming his fist against the bedpost. He crawled forward on top of her until his face hovered above hers, cupping her tearful cheeks with both hands as she tried to control her panicked breathing.  

"You can never talk about him, never," he whispered, sliding his hands down over her slim neck to seize her breasts through her singlet, making her whimper. Again hypnotised by her mouth, with a helpless groan he kissed her, a hand sliding over her face to force her lips open, darting his tongue into her mouth while she moaned her reluctance. 

She arched her back to escape from his kiss, but it only spurred him on as her pert breasts pressed against his chest, and he reached one hand down to roll a nipple between his fingers though the silk, feeling it harden to his touch. Brad was panting now, his movements becoming frenzied in his excitement as he at last indulged in what he had fantasised about thousands of times. 

"No...no!" she whispered against his mouth, feeling his hands slide down her legs and up her toned thighs, bunching her skirt up around her waist, fingers dancing along the crotch of her purple lace panties between her spread legs.

"A skirt in this climate? Interesting choice," Brad mocked her, shaking his head. Feeling her body tremble beneath him, he cupped her pussy as though to comfort her. Panicking, she bucked against his hand, trying to shift it.

"Shhhh, don't be afraid," he hushed her, his lips moving across her cheeks as he deftly pulled her underwear to the side and gently brushed her pussy lips with this thumb.

"Oh! No! No!" Amber gasped, her eyes widening and she jolted against him in outrage as he touched her intimately.

"Yes, Amber, yes! It feels so good to touch you, baby," he moaned, tugging her earlobe with his teeth, probing around her entrance with his fingers, slightly dipping one inside, loving how her legs tensed and her ankles tugged against the silk restraints. He took his hand from her pussy to smell and lick his fingers as she stared up at him, horrified.

"You're sick!" she breathed, her eyes glinting at him indignantly, like pale atlantic ice.

"Yes," he sighed, "I'm sick. Love-sick." Again his hand found its way between her legs, this time sliding an entire finger inside her, and she groaned in frustration as she felt a thrill shoot up her spine. "You're tight," he grinned with delight. "You're going to love being stretched by me."

"Oh, my God, No!" Amber shook her head frantically, trying to separate her mind from her body as he slowly finger-fucked her. "Please don't, Brad. Don't rape me! I have a boyfriend! Please! Listen to me!"

"I am," Brad murmured, "I'm listening to your body. You should too." His hand left her pussy and moved up to trace her mouth with his fingers, glistening with her juices. Her dark lashes fanned her cheeks as she quickly shut her eyes and turned away in disgust, firmly pouting her lips closed, but his hand chased her, forcing his fingers into her mouth and over her tongue.

"Here you go, here's proof. Angel juice. This is all you, baby," he told her. "Ouch!" Brad snapped, quickly withdrawing his hand when she bit down on his fingers. Amber found the look of offended surprise on his face extremely insulting. What the fuck did he expect? That she'd thank him?

"Yes, it's all me, you shit-head," she snarled, glaring at him, feeling helpless and humiliated, angered by the realisation that he wasn't going to listen to her, and she couldn't stop him. "And it's because I'm thinking of Fred!" she shouted. "I'm wet for Fred, not you, you pathetic loser!"

Seeing his fists clench, Amber knew she'd gotten to him as the smug desire faded from his eyes, replaced with a hardness that frightened her. Fixing his stormy blue eyes on her face, she wondered if he was going to hit her. 

Brad took a slow, deep breath, controlling his temper. "You'll learn," he said coldly. "I'll be as patient as I can, but you're going to learn. And you're going to eat your words. Over, and over again," he promised, backing away from her off the bed. He left the room, and Amber glanced about her, looking for a way to escape, trying to wriggle her skirt down from around her waist. 

Finally giving up, Amber's head hit the pillow as she sharply exhaled her frustration. A number of minutes slowly ticked by as she waited for Brad to come back. The seconds literally ticked, as a large, brown ornate grandfather clock announced them with a click that echoed throughout the silent room, driving her a little crazy. Amber thought about her situation, wondered how long it would take Fred to figure out something was wrong. 

Hopefully he'd wait up for her, but he had an early start the next day. With the way things were at his firm, he probably collapsed into bed as soon as he got home. Her phone was being repaired and he knew she was working late, so on the small chance he realised something was up, he'd probably check her work first, then he'd go to the police. The question was how long it would all take. 


Stalking Amber Ch. 02



I'd like to thank TSB for giving this a read over :) 

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

Curled on her side, Amber sighed sleepily as she felt the comfortable warmth of a man's body spooning her. 

"Mmmm Freddy," she murmured, wriggling back so they fit snugly together, "I had the worst dream." A strong arm circled her waist, hand playfully tickling up her flat stomach. Amber giggled, feeling his erection hotly rubbing against her buttocks as the hand moved higher and cheekily squeezed her breast.

"Hmmm," Amber smiled naughtily and arched, enjoying the hand slowly toying with her nipple as a pair of lips mischievously traveled along her shoulder. Her body began to warm with sexual anticipation. "Do we have time? Don't you have to be...?"

Amber's ice-blue eyes flew open in horror. Fred had a small amount of chest hair, and the large, firm, body pressed against her was completely smooth. And there was a chain on her ankle. 

"Argh!" she screamed, all sleepiness ripped from her mind as she frantically tried to disengage herself from the body she had encouraged a moment ago. 

Bright morning light streamed in through the window, and for the first time Amber got a clear view of the bedroom. It was evidently a large guest-room, as impressively furnished as the rest of the house. The blue walls seemed less oppressive in the light of day, and the side of the room Amber faced was lined with a black-velvet settee, a sleek oak desk and a dark-brown cabinet. There was another door, obviously leading to an ensuite. A scattering of framed photographs decorated the walls, mostly landscapes.

"Shhhh," Brad whispered in her ear, holding her tightly against him.

"No! What-what," Amber gasped in a panic, writhing in his hold as the reality of the previous evening flashed through her mind, along with the disturbing realisation she was buck naked. Using his weight, Brad forced her over onto her stomach, holding her down. 

"Umff!" Amber huffed, both hands down on the mattress, trying to push herself up. She might as well have been trying to lift a bus. "Errgh," she complained, angrily straining under his weight, "you're squashing me!"

"No, I'm not," Brad's deep voice slightly quivered with humour. "I'm only using enough pressure to keep you down. You're just being a sore loser because you can't get up."

"Please," Amber pleaded, turning her face into the mattress as Brad used his knees to spread her legs. He arched back, and she squealed as she felt his hard cock prod her, nudging around her pussy. "Don't, Brad, please! Not again!"

"Yes, again," he breathed excitedly. Curling one hand into her soft, blond hair, he turned her head to the side so he could lean down to kiss her cheek and the side of her lush, pink mouth. "I left you alone all night, and it nearly killed me." 

"This isn't- this isn't..." Amber stammered, trying to think of something, anything.

"This is how things are going to be," Brad spoke firmly into her ear. "You're going to lose count of the times we make love. There's no point begging."

"No, please," Amber begged anyway, tears of shock and frustration running down her flushed cheeks. She trembled as she felt Brad's warm mouth trying to collect her tears with kisses. "We're not making love, this is rape!" she argued, trying to turn her face away, but his hand in her hair wouldn't allow it. 

Brad didn't answer, but he curled over her shoulder so his mouth could reach hers, and her lips opened against his as she gasped, feeling him enter her from behind. Though she was incredibly tight, his entry was smooth, because she was slick with their fluids from the night before.

"Mmmph!" she groaned, desperately trying to shift him off her. Brad released her mouth and raised slightly so he could slide in deeper. 

"You're still wet," Brad grunted, jerking his hips against her in small thrusts, "really wet. I should surprise you more often." His lips formed into a sexy half-smile as she feebly tried to kick back at him, which only spread her legs more and gave him room to press deeper.

"Oh, Amber, baby," he sighed, driving his full length inside her and beginning to pump in earnest. 

"Oh!" Amber cried out in surprise as she was again stuffed full of cock. Brad pounded her at a steady pace, and each time he drove into her, her body seemed to be shocked with an electric pleasure. "Uh! Stop! Brad! Uh! Don't!" 

After a few minutes he withdrew and she sighed in relief. But her relief was short-lived as he suddenly pulled her up by her hair onto all fours.

"Oh, God," he said thickly, looking down and firmly seizing her hips as she tried to crawl away. "Oh, no you don't," he muttered with an amused smile, one hand sliding up over her smooth back to grip her neck as the other roamed her ass cheeks before spreading one to the side. His smile widened as he watched himself enter her. 

"Don't do it, Brad! I'll fucking kill you!" Amber shrieked, feeling a tingling warmth spread across her pussy as he squeezed into her. After entering her fully, Brad began to thrust with a power that forced her whole body to jerk forward on the bed. Bent over, unable to escape, Amber realised she was a prisoner, with no choice but to be used over and over again by a man she was physically no match against. 

Though her body was aroused, Amber's mind was too disturbed to get anywhere near an orgasm as she absorbed the awful new reality of her circumstances as a modern-day sex slave. In her head, Amber fleetingly scanned through all the freedoms she'd taken for granted, things she already missed dreadfully. She wanted to go to the park and sit in the sun, go to the gym, sit on the couch with Fred, eat unhealthy food and laugh at shitty TV. She'd give anything just to have Fred hold her and tell her everything was ok, soothe her fears while she cried like a baby. 

Instead she was naked on all fours, being fucked like a whore by a complete stranger. Amber wept bitterly, hearing Brad's delighted grunting behind her increase until he moaned, reaching a shuddering climax. Shaking from his release, he spread her ass-cheeks with both hands so he could watch himself slowly pump in and out of her as he finished. When he finally pulled out, Amber scrambled away from him in disgust to the other corner of the bed, as far as the chain would allow, while he sat back on his heels, hands on his hips, still panting.

"I'm sorry, Amber," he said, not really sounding sorry as he tossed his head, flicking his chestnut fringe from his ocean-blue eyes. "I meant to take it slower, but I couldn't stop myself."

"Are you going to kill me when you're done using me?" Amber asked shakily, gathering the sky-blue blanket to her so she could cover her nakedness, wondering when he had undressed her. 

"You have the most amazing coloured eyes," Brad commented, tilting his head, noting how her eyes seemed even brighter as they picked up the pale-coloured bedsheets. "Sometimes they're light blue, sometimes they look like white crystal."

'Great,' Amber thought, 'he'll probably cut them out for souvenirs.'

When she ignored his compliment, Brad sighed impatiently. "I told you last night, you're here to be with me. I'm not going to hurt you." He climbed off the bed and began to put on his trousers.

"Your clothes are in those," he told her, gesturing toward the brown chest of drawers. "And also some extras that will suit you," he smiled wickedly as she shook her head at him.

"You need help," she insisted, trying to keep the panic from her voice. "Please, Brad, let me get you help."

"You're all the help I need," he replied, dismissing her diagnosis. "What would you like for breakfast?"

Amber trembled with anger and hatred, but she was also trying to stay calm, keep her wits about her. How could she turn this to her advantage?

"Steak," she answered, curling her knees to her chest under the blanket, grimacing as she felt some of Brad's warm cum leak out of her. "And a morning-after pill."

"You wouldn't want to hurt our future child?" Brad asked with exaggerated shock. Amber glared at him, not dignifying his question with an answer. Finally, he shrugged, doing up his trousers. 

"Ok, baby," he said, turning to the door, "I'll see what I can do." Pausing thoughtfully with his hand on the doorknob, he looked back at her with amusement, his large, bare chest coated in a light sheen of sweat from his recent exertion.

"Isn't steak a bit heavy for breakfast?" he questioned cheerfully, opening the door. His toned biceps flexed as he turned to face her, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame. "Never mind. How do you like your steak cooked?" he inquired.

"Medium," Amber said through grit teeth.

"Ok," Brad nodded, smirking. "And what size pieces would you like me to cut it into?" A knowing grin spread across his handsome face as he registered Amber's stunned expression.

"Oh, Amber, you didn't think I'd give you a steak knife?" he said incredulously. Lightly tutting, he opened the door. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he laughed, and left her.

"Fuck you!" he heard her scream from inside the room, and a few seconds later something crashed against the door. Frowning, he realised he'd cleared the room of all potential weapons, but he didn't anticipate she'd rip a picture from the wall. Feisty.

Shaking his head, Brad casually stepped down the stairs towards the kitchen. Opening the well-stocked fridge, he glanced here and there, picking out the ingredients he needed, only mildly thinking about cooking as the majority of this thoughts were preoccupied with his beautiful captive upstairs. 

It wasn't just her appearance, Brad was accustomed to being pursued by beautiful women. From the moment he first saw her, there was something about Amber that sucked him right in. After the kidnapping, he did consider the small possibility that he'd tire of her after a few months, but since being intimate with her twice, enjoying snippets of her personality, he felt well on the way to being head-over-heels in love. 

It made his chest swell, the way she'd dreamily giggled and cuddled into him, even though he'd been mistaken for another man. Remembering their encounter, his cock began to harden again in his trousers. Everything about her excited him - her begging, her anger, her pleasure. Brad knew she could be happy with him if she would just stop being so stubborn, yet her stubbornness was another element he appreciated, unless it was the direct cause of his sexual frustration. After last night, he knew he could give her pleasure, it was just a matter of making her admit and embrace it. But where would it all lead? Brad's brow slightly contracted as he envisioned dragging Amber down a wedding aisle, kicking and screaming. Maybe she'd be more accepting of him if he got her pregnant.

Frowning, Brad began to peel potatoes. Physical domination was no issue, but he couldn't put his finger on how to make her submit emotionally. What if she never gave in? Could they continue like this forever? He paused his task and contemplatively stared at the white wall in front of him. Visualising Amber's exquisite features, her stunning bright eyes, pale-gold hair, her amazing naked body writhing against him, he knew the answer. She could be his prisoner, or his lover, but he was not letting her go.

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

Amber explored the ensuite, and though she couldn't quite reach the shower, she could reach the bath, which had an extended shower-head. She washed herself thoroughly, trying to get all traces of Brad off and out of her.

After drying herself with a fluffy yellow towel, Amber went through the cabinet drawers and dressed in the most unattractive outfit she could find - her grey gym tracksuit and red sports t-shirt, carefully zipping the hoodie all the way to the top. Amber was disgusted to learn that Brad, evidently a g-string man, had neglected to pack her any sensible, practical underwear. But a g-string was better than nothing, so she put on four pairs.

With great distaste she discovered several Bordelle lingerie items, ranging in style from demure to kinky dominatrix. Digging further in search of less-provocative underwear, she found the Victoria's Secret stash. Knowing Brad expected her to wear the seductive apparel for him, and that they must have cost an absolute bomb, Amber spitefully did her best to irreparably ruin them. The quality fabric was quite durable, and she angrily wished for a pair of scissors, only managing to properly tear minor areas of delicate silk and lace.

After she dressed, Amber gingerly walked about the room, trying to determine how far the chain reached. The windows were decoratively barred and locked, the glass heavily tinted. The air-conditioning had been softly running since the night before, and the torturous ticking of the clock had somehow switched off. Amber was only just out of reach of the door that led into the hallway.

After staring miserably at the exit for a full five minutes, she turned back to the room with a deep sigh. Glancing through to the bathroom and vaguely settling her gaze on the white sink directly within, she perked up as a thought struck her. The chain rattled along the floor as Amber ran across it into the bathroom, quickly opening the white cupboard doors under the sink, ducking down and looking around. Standing, she looked at the small plug in her hand.

"Bingo," she whispered.

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

Potatoes and salad ready, steak resting, Brad hummed pleasantly, drumming his fingers along the counter as he waited. He looked up at the ceiling curiously as he heard the faint rhythm of the water mechanism starting up.

"Huh," he said absently. He'd heard the water turn on when Amber washed the first time. Obviously one wash wasn't enough to make her feel clean of him. Well, if that was her mindset, she was going to be washing very frequently in future. He chuckled, thinking she may as well live in the shower with the way his libido responded to her.

Checking his watch, the steak was ready, and Brad smiled as he neatly cut it into chewable pieces, thinking of how he'd humoured her meal choice, but foiled her little plan to get hold of a knife. 

"Cute," he sniggered. Opening the cutlery drawer, he picked out a plastic fork, added it to the plate and headed toward the staircase, whistling.

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

"Come on, come on," Amber urged, impatiently hopping from one foot to the other, watching the sink fill with water. She didn't know what the plan was, but perhaps if she flooded the place, it would get someone's attention. Or Brad would have to call a repairman and ultimately unchain her. At the very least, she'd have the satisfaction of damaging a part of his very nice house.

"Hmmmm..." drawled a deep voice from behind, bringing Amber around with a shriek to face Brad's bare chest. In her fixation on the sink, she hadn't noticed him quietly enter the room, step over the shattered picture, place the food on the bed and creep right up behind her. As she gaped up at him, he brushed past, calmly turned off the tap and pulled out the plug. The water was less than an inch away from overflowing.

"What was the plan Amber?" Brad smiled thinly, bringing to Amber's memory the fact she had no plan. With no reply, Amber watched anxiously as he walked towards her. She staggered back, but he continued past her to the bed. He picked up the food, carried it to the other side of the room and gently placed it upon a sturdy, black side-table. Then he contemplatively ran a fingertip along the table's gleaming surface.

"Trying to get my attention, Amber?" he asked quietly, his large, naked back to her.

"No," she answered, nervously running her eyes over the muscles down his torso, wondering why he'd just cleared the bed.

"Well, you have it now," Brad turned to face her, and his blue eyes were full of lust, running up and down her grey tracksuit, making her feel naked. Amber shook her head vigorously as he slowly began to untie his trousers.

"No, Brad, please," she pleaded weakly, edging back. "I'm sorry, please."

Ignoring her plea, he nodded to her tracksuit. "Take that off."

"Please, Brad," Amber tried again, "I said I was sorry. Please." Raising her light eyes to see the blue steel in his, she saw his determination to take her again, and teach her a lesson in the process.

Brad's trousers fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them. "If you don't," he told her casually, neatly folding his pants and placing them on the desk next to her meal, "I'll happily do it for you."

Amber didn't want that, but she couldn't bring herself to undress for him. As he stepped toward her, his erection clearly visible through his black underwear, she stepped back, quickly unzipping her hoodie and tossing it toward him, as though he was a seagull and the jacket was a piece of bread. Except she knew that the piece of bread he wanted was her.

"There," she said breathlessly. "Now, stop. Don't come any closer."

"Keep going, Amber," Brad grinned, slowly stalking her as she stumbled backward. Eventually she backed into the black desk and stared up at him desperately.

"No, no," Amber whispered, as he reached her, and in a last-ditch escape effort she sank to the floor, trying to scoot back under the desk. Laughing, he bent and dragged her out from under it by her ankles, then he straightened, watching her cower beneath him, her blue eyes brightened with tears.

"Baby, don't cry. It's not that bad," Brad tried to soothe her, genuinely disturbed by the fear in her eyes. "It's not as though you won't enjoy it," he reasoned, holding out his hands to pull her up. "Come on," he said kindly, "I'll make it good for both of us."

It had been less than 12 hours, and Brad was already going for round 3. Not that she was hurting, but at this rate, Amber anticipated she'd have to go out and buy a new vagina before the end of the week. Brad told her that it had required three men of his size to put the anchor under the bed. Had they known what Brad would use it for? Was she going to be abused by all of them? 

In a nervous daze, she ignored his outstretched arms and slowly gathered into a kneeling position, readying to stand up. Then she did what any girl would do to avoid being raped. She gathered her fingers into a tight fist and punched him in the nuts.

Brad gasped in shock and bent over, grunting in agony. Amber scrambled around him and heard him hit the floor behind her. Grabbing his trousers from the table, she shook them out, almost bursting into tears as a piece of silver fell from a pocket, glimmering as it caught the light. Unlocking herself from the chain, she dashed for the door, and on the way out she saw him awkwardly rise to his feet, gripping the bedpost for support.

"AMBER!" Brad screamed behind her, and Amber began to sob as she fled through the hall and down the stairs, wishing she'd been more quick to unlock her ankle.

"AMBER! STOP!" he bellowed from the top of the stairs and in a moment of blind horror, she couldn't resist glancing back to see him practically throw himself down the staircase after her.

Skidding through the kitchen, she flew down the high-ceilinged hallway and fumbled with the front door. The latch gave, and Amber pulled it open a few inches before it suddenly slammed shut. Temporarily winded by the force of Brad barrelling into her from behind, Amber gasped when a large, angry hand gripped her neck, wrenched her away from the exit and onto the hall floor. 

"Ouch, Brad, you're hurting me!" Amber rasped, as his hold on her neck tightened brutally. Breathing raggedly in pain, Brad slowly got to his feet, dragging her up with him, and marched her towards the kitchen. In silence, both panting, they unsteadily staggered through the kitchen, past the stairway that led to the bedroom, and into an adjoining lounge-room. Stumbling along blindly, both of Ambers hands were behind her, wrapped around the wrist connected to the hand cruelly contracting around the back of her neck.




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. 



Stalking Amber Ch. 03



Thanks TSB for plot/structure advice :)

*********

Furious about being left tied up, Amber's rage eventually faded as she mulled over the last exchange with Brad. It was obvious by the way his eyes continuously darted to her lower body, that he had sex on the brain. Grudgingly Amber acknowledged she was lucky he'd accepted her hollow apology and not taken it further. 

Fixing her pale-blue eyes on the ceiling, she pursed her lips in thought. Brad confessed he was infatuated with her, so maybe she could influence him somehow. Slightly shaking her head at herself, Amber knew that wouldn't get her very far, the guy wasn't as stupid as she'd hoped. It was just her luck to get stuck with a nut-job with an inkling of intelligence. Going by the house alone, he'd evidently done well for himself. 

Amber started as the door opened, and Brad calmly walked in carrying two large bottles of water. Setting them down next to the fruit and sandwiches, he turned and leaned back against the table, resting the heels of his palms on the black glossy surface.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, his eyes travelling down her slim body and again resting between her spread legs.

"A little," Amber admitted warily, wondering if it would be wiser to stay hungry than have him come near her.

"Well, how about we call a little truce?" Brad suggested, pushing off the desk and moving closer.

"What kind of truce?" Amber asked suspiciously, resisting the urge to tug against her restraints as he approached the bed.

Brad smiled down at her, and casually slipped his hands into the pockets of his black pants. "If you can refrain from trying to cause me bodily harm, I'll untie you, so you can eat." Shifting his gaze to one of the bedposts, he traced a finger along down the smooth, brown column before glancing back at Amber, gauging her reaction. "If you attack me again, we'll be back to square one. I should clarify that 'square one' involves me stripping you naked and having my wicked way with you."

"Ok, I won't try anything," Amber immediately nodded, thinking it was probably the best deal she'd been offered so far. As Brad untied her restraints, Amber fought the urge to slap and kick at his caressing hands when they sensually lingered on her skin. She jumped at the feel of cool metal on her ankle as he reapplied the chain. Avoiding his eyes, she quickly climbed off the bed, grimacing at the sound of the chain hitting the ground and dragging along it.

"I'm afraid that's non-negotiable," Brad chuckled, seeing her cast an irritated glance at her ankle.

Picking up a vibrantly red apple, Amber was careful to keep her back against the desk so she could watch his movements, and hide her mostly naked behind from his lustful stare. Taking a big, hungry bite out of the apple, she enjoyed the fruit's flesh as its juices spread over her lips. After her small pink tongue darted out to collect the sweet moisture from the corners of her mouth, Amber nervously slowed her chewing, seeing Brad's expression suddenly freeze as his blue eyes fixed on her mouth.

Brad exhaled heavily, and his brown fringe curled across his forehead as he quickly turned to inspect the bedpost, well aware of his cock forming into yet another painful erection. If he watched Amber too carefully, she might suspect the food had been tampered with, and he didn't want to give the game away.

"So, Amber," Brad spoke with a serenity was far from feeling, "I've given some thought to how we might more peacefully... get along." Turning back to her, he saw the storm gathering in the pastel-blue of her eyes, narrowing at his euphemism for sexual assault. Glaring at him unblinkingly, Amber took a particularly vicious bite out of the apple.

"For example," Brad continued pleasantly, ignoring her death stare, "I'm aware that the idea of falling pregnant doesn't appeal to you right now. I could compromise on that."

Amber angrily gulped down another bite and showed her teeth as her lip curled in disgust. "Right now? It won't appeal to me, ever! I could be pregnant already!" she snapped.

"But you might not be," Brad countered, smugly holding her furious gaze for a few seconds before shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh, I guess we could just keep going and see what happens. I'd prefer it, actually."

"W-What would I have to do?" Amber faltered, losing some of her edge as she realised being chained didn't seem so bad, alongside the prospect of being knocked-up by her captor.

Hearing the resignation in her voice, Brad barely managed to suppress a triumphant grin. "We can start small," he said simply, crossing his arms. "It's a limitless bargaining chip, really. How about you try on some of the lingerie I bought you? I'll even let you pick."

Brad suffered a mild surprise when the apple core sharply bounced off his forehead. "Amber," he chided with humorous bewilderment, wiping the juice from his skin and only just stopping himself from licking the sticky wetness off his fingers. "That's not my definition of getting along."

Amber struggled to contain her anger. Though she regretted her recklessness, she couldn't stop herself. It was useless and petty, but it felt pretty damn good. Glancing behind her at the plates on the table, she was sorely tempted to throw more food at him.

"Amber," Brad cautioned softly, clearly following her thoughts, "remember square one." The apple core hadn't bothered him in the slightest, but he didn't want to be pelted with fruit. The experience of keeping a beautiful woman prisoner was unexpectedly feeling more like being a parent. 

"Just put something on for me," he coaxed, again crossing his large arms. "I won't make love to you, unless you want me to. And if you behave, next time we're intimate, I promise I'll wear a condom. It's a sweet deal for you." Seeing her eyes flare at him and her hand shift toward the fruit plate, he hastily continued. "Or you can start a food-fight and we'll just get down to it, without protection. The choice is yours. I'm trying to cut you a break here."

"Why don't you cut me loose?" Amber argued, stamping the foot attached to the chain.

"Come on, Amber," he sighed tiredly. "I don't have all day." Shifting from the bedpost, he pulled the key from his back pocket. "I'll temporarily unlock you," he informed her. "But this time, I'll be ready for any surprises. I don't think I have to tell you what will happen if you try anything." Amber trembled as he got down on one knee and released her ankle from the chain.

Picking up the discarded apple core, he raised to his full height and sauntered toward the door. "I'll give you half an hour. That should be plenty of time to get changed and eat, if you're still hungry." Gently shutting the door behind him, Brad's blue eyes lit up with amusement as he heard her swearing frenzy on the other side. Striding a few metres down the hall, he pressed his large back against the wall and slid down into a sitting position to wait. Resting his forearms on his knees he grinned aimlessly at the wall in front of him.

"It's working," he breathed. Looking down at the apple-core in his hand, he seriously contemplated fixing his mouth to it, knowing Amber's lips had been on it more recently. But he wasn't in the habit of eating food off the floor, and the apple had been laced with a very expensive aphrodisiac. Given his current sex-drive, any enhancement would be very ill-advised.

********

Almost 40 minutes later, Brad stood somewhat nervously before the door. It was pure anticipation, as though he was about to go on a first date, knowing she was dressed and waiting for him. Pulling himself together, he gently knocked and entered. Disappointment shot through his chest as he saw Amber siting on the bed in her grey tracksuit, pouting adorably.

"Well, Amber?" Brad inquired, walking toward her.

"I put something on," Amber muttered, sullenly gesturing to the cabinet of drawers.

"Oh," Brad replied softly, concealing his surprise. He'd immediately assumed Amber was being difficult. Noting the flush that crept along her fine cheekbones, he realised she was just shy. The prospect of watching her undress, or undressing her, actually suited him better than discovering her in lingerie.

Standing in front of her, he held out his hands. "Come," he instructed, firmly holding the small hands tentatively placed in his. Pulling Amber to her feet, he circled her waist with one arm and held her hand up with the other, bringing their bodies close together, slowly rocking them side to side, like a first dance at their wedding. Brushing his lips along her hairline, he bent to whisper in her ear.

"You dressed for me, baby?" Brad murmured sexily, feeling a shiver run through her body as he cheekily blew into her sensitive ear. 

Feeling the familiar hardness of his erection pressing against her, Amber jerked her head away and tried to pull out of his arms. Easily holding her tight against him, Brad chuckled, hearing Amber exhale in a frustrated huff. The arm around her waist shifted, and a large, warm hand crept under her shirt, traced her naked waist and moved up to cup her breast.

"You don't find me attractive in the slightest?" he teased, eager to know if the apple affected her.

"No," Amber lied, squirming as she felt her body respond to the heat of his, small thrills running down her torso and gathering between her legs while his hand slowly caressed her. 

Brad's excitement mounted as his thumb moved over the silk on her breast, wondering what she had chosen to wear for him. He leaned back slightly so he could look down into her face. "Undress for me?" he suggested lightly, but Amber knew it was an order. 

"Fine," she agreed flatly, fantasising about telling him to go fuck himself. The thought of a pregnancy was at the front of her mind, and she knew he'd use any excuse to mount her. Brad buoyantly twirled her in his arms and kissed her temple before releasing her, backing onto the bed. He patiently rested his hands on his thighs as he sat, his erection clearly straining against the black track-pants.

Amber hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd consider it a renege on their agreement if she aggressively threw her clothes into his face. Not wanting to take the chance, she slowly unzipped the hoodie, and pushed down the track-pants, leaving her only in the red gym shirt and pair of sheer Victoria's Secret bottoms. The front of the panties were solid, black satin, but the back only half-covered her ass with a fine veil of mesh. It was one of the few items of lingerie she'd damaged, but seeing Brad's blue eyes darken as his pupils rapidly dilated, Amber realised she made a mistake choosing the torn fabric, it only made her appear wildly sexier. Pausing awkwardly under Brad's burning gaze, Amber's eyes uncertainly darted to the side, wondering if it was enough.

"Keep going," Brad breathed, having to consciously remind himself to inhale as his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her.

Amber firmly gripped the ends of the red t-shirt, and slowly pulled it up and over her head, furiously blushing as she cast the last conservative piece of her clothing to the floor, exposing her to Brad's lustful gaze. Seeing his jaw slightly drop, Amber was astonished by the way her body began to tingle under his heated perusal.

With her light blond hair and angelic eyes, wearing the black Victoria's Secret ensemble, Amber was an enticing contradiction - both alluringly innocent and decadently sexy. It took Brad several seconds before he realised he was holding his breath. Pulling himself together, he inhaled deeply, unable to resist exhaling in long, appreciative whistle. At the sound of his approval, Amber's porcelain cheekbones seemed to glow an even deeper red. 

"Come here," Brad commanded hoarsely, reaching for her, like a kid about to receive candy.

"Y-You promised-" Amber stuttered anxiously as he pulled her toward him so she stood between his legs, running his hands down her smooth back to settle on her ass-cheeks. He chuckled, delightedly squeezing them through the thin fabric. 

"I know what I said," Brad murmured, "I won't make love to you. There are other things we can do." He leaned to the side of her waist to ogle her ass, and he playfully plucked at delicate material where it had torn across one buttock. 

"What happened here?" he teased. Amber didn't know if she gasped in surprise or excitement as Brad shifted back onto the bed and drew her forward into his lap until she straddled him. 

"Do you feel that?" he asked excitedly, tracing his lips along her collarbone and tugging her bra strap down her shoulder with his teeth. His large hands tightened on her ass, slowly grinding her up and down against his erection. "This is what you do to me, Amber."

Ambers bright blue eyes widened with shock and arousal. Things were escalating much faster than she'd expected, and her body seemed to be running with it. The feeing of his rock-hard cock rubbing between her parted legs caused a deep, longing ache to build around her pussy. She felt her juices gather across the delicate fabric between her legs and prayed Brad wouldn't go far enough to discover it.

Sliding a large hand up her smooth stomach to squeeze her breast, Brad looked into her eyes.

"Amber," he panted, taking in her doll-like features and coming to rest on her delicious, pink mouth, slightly parted in her flustered state. "Amber, I need you to- I need to taste you."

"Huh?" Amber gaped, uneasily pushing both hands against his chest, tentatively trying to distance herself from the intensity of his eyes. In response he seized her ass-cheeks and sharply pulled her groin forward against his.

"It's not sex," Brad reassured her, his blue eyes glowing with lust. Determined not to break his promise, his desire had reached an unbearable state, and if he wasn't going to fuck her, he needed something more than kisses. Circling her waist with one arm, he shifted back onto the bed, keeping her in his lap. "Turn around, baby," he insisted, "this has to happen."

'Turn around?' Amber thought bewilderedly. Brad lay back and his hands firmly gripped her small hips, directing her to rotate until they were in a sixty-nine position. She started as she felt him pull the thin slip of fabric aside, felt his warm breath on her pussy as he strained upward to taste her.

"Oh!" Amber gasped, arching upwards to lift away from Brad's hot, wet mouth. 

"No, no," Brad chided, sliding two hands over her half-naked buttocks and squeezing indulgently. "Come on, Amber, you should see how wet you are." Dropping his head back to the bed, he moved one hand from the curve of her ass and began to play with her pussy through the sleek material. Then, without warning, he hooked his fingers around the scrap of fabric and ripped the crotch clear from her panties. As the delicate lingerie tore apart and gently fluttered about his face, he quickly fixed his mouth to her aching pussy.

"Oh...OH!" Amber cried out in pleasure and surprise, as Brad's tongue intimately delved into the depths of her, licking, stroking, circling her clit and dipping inside. 

"You taste so good," Brad moaned, stimulating her with every word. "Please, Amber," he begged, "don't fight me."

"I-I-" Amber faltered breathlessly, torn between desire and confusion. She didn't know what was worse - that his mouth was intimately working on her or the fact she immensely enjoyed it. With Brad's other hand flexing around her ass, Amber's thoughts completely scattered when he inserted a finger inside her while flicking his tongue over her throbbing nub. Feeling him slowly squeeze his finger in and out of her tightness, it was all too much. Recklessly Amber decided she was past the point of chastising herself for her body's response. Her slim torso curved forward as she writhed above him in ecstasy, wantonly grinding her pussy into his face, silently encouraging him to eat her out.

Brad heard her moan, felt her deliberately push against his mouth, and his cock ached painfully. Just as he began to revel in how well things were going, something amazing happened. He felt Amber quickly slip both hands down his pants and free his cock. Feeling her small, soft hands wrap firmly around his shaft, Brad instinctively thrust upwards, still eating her pussy like a man dying of thirst. Kissing and licking her, feeling her touch on his throbbing cock, Brad was ready to blow. 

At the same time Amber jerked her pussy against Brad's mouth, she stared heatedly down at his cock, getting a good look at it for the first time. It was large, perfectly shaped, the skin heatedly velvet-soft against her palm. Feeling Brad's mouth on her, moving her hips against his face, Amber's eyelids lowered with arousal, and she bent to take him into her mouth. At that second she wasn't a prisoner forced into circumstances beyond her control, she was in the midst of a tantalising sexual encounter. 

Wholly in the grip of an inexplicable lust, Amber was no more than a highly-sexed woman, being pleasured by a strikingly attractive man, and in the heat of the moment she completely forgot everything besides the fact that she wanted his cock in her mouth. Desperate to ease her primal urges with the taste of him, Amber wrapped her pretty lips about the head of Brad's cock and sucked as hard as she could, feeling him sharply gasp against her as she ran her tongue along the underside.

In truth, Brad could have been an inanimate object for all Amber cared. She was emotionally separated from the situation, focused on a basic need that he was conveniently present to satisfy. Brad's feelings were directly contrary. He chest ached with tenderness as he savoured their intimacy, that she reciprocated his attentions without being prompted. In his eyes, they were treasuring each other like lovers.

"Oh, Amber, yes, suck my dick!" Brad groaned against her pussy, almost painfully squeezing her ass as he bucked his hips upward, silently begging her to take him deeper. "Oh, Amber," he moaned, stroking his hands from her ass, up and down her back, sensually massaging her small waist above him.

Brad's cock slipped out of Amber's mouth with a wet 'pop' as she tipped her head back and cried out, ready to come. "Oh, oh, ahh...fuck!" she moaned as her face constricted with her gathering orgasm. "Ahh...ah...OH!" Amber squealed as she came on his face, a sensational thrill rushing heatedly through her veins like molten desire. Then she opened her eyes and watched with fascination as the cock in her hand trembled and spurted cum. In a trance she pumped him, shivering excitedly, still feeling her pussy tingle under the lingering attentions of Brad's mouth. 

Amber felt Brad hotly panting against her pussy, his body shudder beneath her. When he dropped his head back in exhaustion, Amber slowly regained her senses, realising she was on one hand and two knees on top of Brad, dressed like a high-class call-girl, her cum-covered hand wrapped around his cock. She'd ground into his face like a cat on heat, and put her mouth on him without being asked. In her painful arousal, it never occurred to her to bite off his dick. 

Scandalised, Amber frantically clambered off Brad and dove for her grey tracksuit. Brad curled forward and watched as she fled into the bathroom with the clothes under one arm. After thoroughly washing her hands, she quickly dressed and stomped back into the bedroom and glowered at Brad.

"It wasn't good for you?" Brad teased weakly, fairly spent from the intensity of their encounter, but more than ready to give chase if she made a run for it. 

Amber's eyes flared with agitation, and her chest heaved as her mouth opened and shut several times. Cursing her irrational sex-drive, she was unspeakably angry with herself. She could think of no words to insult him and excuse herself at the same time. What the hell had gotten into her?




Stalking Amber Ch. 03



"Leave!" Amber shouted in a panic, horrified by Brad's wet face, glistening with her juices. She couldn't erase the graphic mental image of herself humping into his mouth while she sucked his cock. 

Brad sighed at her temper, adjusted his pants and slowly wriggled his large frame toward the end of the bed.

"It's not my fault you enjoyed yourself so much," he smirked. "But a deal, is a deal. Next time, I'll wear a condom. Come on, Amber," Brad picked up the chain and it rattled as he dangled it at her, "you know the drill."

"No," Amber shook her head weakly, "please. Not that."

"It's non-negotiable," Brad smiled. "Unless you want to be tied down? The chain gives you more freedom. At least you can use the bathroom."

"There's no freedom in being chained," she responded bitterly, edging toward the door.

"Amber," Brad warned, firmly holding her stormy gaze. 

Blond hair brightly cascading about her face, Amber stared challengingly into his stern eyes. Then she went for the door, hearing the chain clap to the ground as Brad pursued her. Just making it into the hallway, her feet promptly left the floor as two strong arms wrapped about her torso. All the screaming and kicking she unleashed didn't save her from being hauled back into the bedroom. 

"You bastard!" she shrieked, as he tossed her onto the bed. With a no-nonsense manner he deflected her kicks and roughly clicked the circle closed around her ankle. 

"What is your problem?" Brad exclaimed, exasperated. "You just had a screaming orgasm, and now you're in a rage. Keep this up, and I'm going to cancel that condom." 

Thoroughly humiliated, Amber dove beneath the blanket, curled up, and covered her ears with her hands. The future seemed tainted at every turn. Even if she managed to escape, the guilt that she enjoyed aspects of her captivity would stay with her forever. It would be her dark secret, the first and only time she couldn't fully confide in Fred. What would he think of her, if he knew? He'd be hurt, shocked. The integrity of their once-perfect relationship would be stained by her unwilling betrayal. That is, if she ever got out of the mess she was in. 

Afternoon light still brightened the room, and hearing the door softly close behind Brad, Amber miserably cried herself to sleep.

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

Perhaps it was the force of her temper, but when Amber slept, she slept like one dead. Fred used to profusely complain when her alarm shrilly woke him on weekends, whilst she'd continue to slumber undisturbed. Owing to the rest she'd acquired during the day, Amber's sleeping pattern was disturbed. When she next opened her eyes, she was wide awake. Though uncertain of the time, it was clearly well into the night. 

Lazily getting out of bed, she went to the black table and opened a bottle of water. Realising she was quite dehydrated, Amber chugged half the large bottle in one go, contemplatively considering her surroundings. Given the amount of raucous that had taken place in the room, it was now eerily quiet, enveloped in the silence of night. Moonlight streamed in through the window and illuminated the room, giving the furniture a severely rustic appearance. Going over to the window, Amber cupped her hands around her face, trying to see through the opaque tint that clouded her vision. Pondering how isolated the house seemed to be, Amber had no idea where she was, and since her arrival she'd not heard any noise from outside. 

"With my luck, he probably owns the whole street," she muttered out loud, trying to peer through the glass.

"Not quite," Brad said humorously, right behind her. 

Amber screamed in fright and spun around, pressing a clenched fist against her thudding heart. "Don't-Don't do that," she gasped shakily. "Don't creep up on me. I hate it." How the fuck did she not hear him approach? Who was he, Batman?

"I'm sorry," he replied, visibly trying not to laugh. "I didn't exactly sneak up on you." 

"What time is it?" Amber asked warily, edging away from him toward the bed. He was only in his track-pants, and his wide, bare chest expanded as he sighed. 

"It's late," he informed her, idly rubbing a hand along a large bicep. "I was just passing and thought I'd check on you."

"Yeah, well, it's late," Amber retorted, diverting her eyes from his tall, half-naked figure. "So, you should leave." There was something about his manner that convinced her his presence was no mere coincidence. She strongly suspected he'd been outside her door the whole time.

"But you're not tired," Brad observed, moving forward and reaching out to affectionately run his hand through her hair. The blond strands were so soft, natural. Just like her pale-blue eyes, her hair was uniquely coloured, not damaged by dye or riddled with product. He longed to stroke the pale-gold tresses while she slept. 

"And since we're both wide awake," he continued thoughtfully, "I thought we could..." he trailed off and pulled a condom out of his pocket.

"Fuck, no!" snapped Amber. Jerking her head back and crossing her arms, she was annoyed that she enjoyed the feel of his fingers through her hair, his physical nearness. "Go away. I'm exhausted." Knowing she was in a 'cat and mouse' situation, Amber held her ground, knowing the moment she panicked or flew into a temper, he'd be on her. 

"I'll unchain you," Brad offered persuasively, fully expecting her rejection. "And I'll do all the heavy lifting. Come on, Amber. It'll be fun."

"Not f-for me," she stammered, the fear creeping into her bright eyes as he moved closer, trapping her between him and the bed. "Br-" 

Brad ended Amber's speech with his mouth, gathering her in his arms and crushing her to his bare chest. When she tried to twist her face away, he moved one hand between them and firmly seized her chin, holding her head steady beneath his kiss. Amber moaned protestingly around his tongue, but in his deluded mind, Brad converted it to a moan of encouragement, and he deftly pressed his fingers into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open wider, while his other hand roamed down her waist, curved over her perfect ass and squeezed, pulling her lower body tightly against him.

Becoming dizzy under Brad's ardent attentions and unable to ignore the deliciously warm scent of his skin against her, Amber feebly tried to wriggle away. This only served to enhance his excitement, as Amber inadvertently rubbed her body against him. Brad felt his heartbeat thunder across his chest as her small hands pushed at his naked waist and gripped his large arms, futilely trying to extract herself from his hold.

Finally releasing her from the kiss, Brad stared into her eyes possessively, silently telling her she belonged to him. The intensity of his expression startled Amber, all traces of humour and flippancy vanished from the blue of his eyes, as they heatedly fixed on her face.

"I need you, Amber," Brad said heavily, watching her light eyes nervously flicker across his handsome features, scared to meet his gaze for too long. "Do you understand?" he persisted, quickly tilting her chin to make her face him. "You're my future. You're my everything."

"Oh, fuck..." Amber weakly replied, cringing at his words. Could the situation get any worse? Suddenly a 'wham, bam, thank you' rapist was looking pretty good, compared to one wholly obsessed with her. 

"It's going to take a very long time, I know," he admitted, "but it'll be worth it. You'll learn."

"I won't," Amber whispered, briskly shaking her head in disbelief, irritated by the contradictory arousal pulsing throughout her, just from being in his arms. "I'll never feel anything for you, Brad, except hate. You're nothing to me-" She was abruptly silenced as Brad's large hand roughly darted up to cover her mouth.

"Careful, Amber," he breathed, tightening his fingers across her jaw warningly, before releasing her and tapping the end of her cute nose. "Careful." Pushing her back onto the bed, the seriousness left his face and he smiled smugly, enjoying the way her eyes angrily glittered at him in the moonlight, like blue crystal.

"I despise you," she said quietly, watching him with loathing. Running her eyes over his toned, naked torso, she gave herself a mental shake as a sharp thrill of desire shot up her spine. What was wrong with her?

"Perhaps," Brad replied, giving her a saucy look, "but your body doesn't. It most definitely won't, since you drank the water." As Amber's horrified eyes darted to the half-full bottle on the table, Brad held up both hands in surrender. "It's not my style," he grinned, "but guilty, as charged. Don't worry, it's a harmless supplement."

"You-you-!" Amber exclaimed in dismay, raking both hands through her hair. He'd poisoned her. What would happen to her now?

Brad ignored her and casually plucked the condom from his pocket, pushing his pants down to his ankles and stepping out of them. He wasn't wearing underwear, and Amber hurriedly turned away from the naked sight of him. "I'm going to leave you chained," he clarified, tearing the condom wrapper with his teeth and efficiently applying it to his cock. "Because I don't trust you."

Though she knew there was no point, Amber began to edge backward on the bed, looking around for help. She started as she felt Brad's weight add to the mattress, and defensively held out two hands as his warm chest pressed close above her, forcing her onto her back.

"Why do you fight me? I'm crazy about you," Brad murmured against her throat, and she jumped as he hooked his fingers over both sides of her track-pants and pull down.

"N-No! Ah!" Amber gasped, feeling a warm hand cup her naked pussy, deftly part her lips and gently circle her clit. Thoroughly disturbed by the feelings he'd expressed, Amber wasn't as wet as the previous occasions, and when he stoked her intimately, she jerked beneath him with genuine discomfort.

"Hmm," Brad said thoughtfully, moving back from her neck and down her body.

"Ohhh, no!" Ambers beautiful eyes widened and her jaw dropped open, as Brad caressed her pussy with his mouth. His hands stroked up her thighs and seized her hips as she tried to wriggle away. She moaned in frustration, feeling her lower body heat up and her juices begin to flow.

"Yes, oh, yes," Brad breathed against her inner-thigh, slowly dipping a finger inside her to verify her wetness, and gently spread it around her clit. Leaning forward to give her pussy a last lingering kiss, he tugged her pants all the way to her ankles and freed one of her legs, leaving the pants caught around the other chained ankle. Then he promptly lunged forward and buried his face between her thighs.

"Ahhh..." Amber stared blindly up at the ceiling, well-aware she was about to lose another battle. Her rapid breathing seemed to catch as Brad's lips and tongue expertly worked on her pussy, his warm hand sensually rubbing up and down her thigh. She arched in pleasure as his hand travelled up her body, under her shirt to seize her breast. 

Brad moved up her body and sneaked his other hand under her shirt, both hands fondling her breasts and flicking her nipples through the sleek satin. Amber could hear his uneven breathing and opened her eyes to meet Brad's dark gaze.

"Tell me you want me," he demanded hoarsely, kneading her breasts, feeling her body warm to his attentions. Though she writhed with pleasure, Amber stubbornly shook her head. With a smug half-smile, Brad shifted forward, and his cock gently dabbed against sections of her pussy, teasing the area, setting her on fire with lust. He heard her breathing heighten as she shifted beneath him, trying to get a hold on herself.

"Come on, baby," Brad encouraged, lining up with her pussy and easing forward, not enough to enter, just enough to drive her crazy. "You can do it, Amber," he breathed, watching her white teeth clench in her fight for control. "Ask me."

"Get fucked," Amber snarled, but her eyes burned with unfulfilled desire. 

"Get fucked?" Brad echoed tauntingly, squeezing in half an inch. Amber quickly closed her eyes and turned her face away as she moaned. "You want me inside you, we both know you do," Brad grinned his victory. "I want to hear it, Amber. And I'm going to hear it, because I can do this all night." Pulling out, he again pressed around her entrance, and Amber whimpered. Then he slipped in again, this time a full inch, and her chest instantly arched in response, her pouting lips parted in sweet ecstasy. 

Brad paused, savouring her pained expression, delighting in her torment. The aphrodisiac was working with flying colours. When he continued to be still, Amber's eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him desperately. Brad took a deep, shuddering breath, wishing he could take a picture of her gorgeous face, her stunning eyes clearly begging him for mercy, and carry it around in his wallet. 

"Now, you know how it feels," Brad gloated mockingly. "Now, you know what it's like to pine for something that's right there, and have to wait for it. Shall I give it to you, Amber? Do you want it now, baby?" 

Swallowing, Amber gave him the smallest of nods, and he burst out laughing. "I'm sorry," he chuckled, and Amber's pretty face constricted with frustration as he pulled out, again resting his cock here and there against her increasingly sensitive pussy. "But that's not good enough."

"I want you," Amber uttered, her small frame trembling beneath him with an insatiable longing.

"What else?" Brad asked smugly, squeezing into her an inch, feeling the abundant wetness gathered about her entrance. Wide-eyed, Amber stared at him imploringly.

"Nuh-uh, baby. Don't give me those puppy eyes," he grinned, and Amber squealed with exasperation as he pulled out again.

"I want- I want you inside me, Brad," Amber winced, her pride in the dust as she begged him for a fucking. If someone had told her about it earlier, she'd have scornfully disbelieved such sexual torture existed, but now, she was certain of it. It was excruciating - teetering on the brink of an orgasm, only to have it linger, dancing just out of reach. 

With Brad alternating between being slightly inside her, and prodding around her pussy, the chances of having a short, unfulfilled orgasm increased. And the prospect of disappointing her body after so much arousal was intolerable. After such a build-up, the idea of a experiencing a fleeting dud of an orgasm, when there was a perfect tool ready to do the job, seemed the worst thing in the world. All because Brad spiked her water. Seeing him hesitate, not finished teasing her, Amber lost it.

"Fuck!" she swore, frantically reaching down to wrap her hand around his length and guide him into her, but his hips stayed steady, even as she bucked upward.

"Am-ber?" he queried in an aggravating singsong voice, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck me, Brad, please!" she begged, breaking down. "Please, I can't- I can't-"

Brad seized her hips and rolled onto his back, lifting her into his lap. Holding her just over his cock, he smiled as she desperately nodded at him, her mouth opening to form an ecstatic 'O' when his cock pressed against her pussy.

"Talk to me, baby," he panted, "tell me what you want."

"I want you," she insisted, restlessly gripping his wrists, trying to make him loosen his hold on her waist so she could slide down.

"Come on, Amber, more!" he goaded, massaging her bare hips with his thumbs. "Who do you want?"

"Brad! I want you, Brad!" she cried out heatedly, trying to push down on him. But he was strong, and his arms easily held her above him. "I want you inside me! I want you to fuck me! Oh, God, what else do you want me to say?"

"Tell me you love me," Brad demanded, wanting to see how far he could push her, carefully concealing the fact he was over-the-moon. Just like when she'd unexpectedly taken him into her mouth, he could hardly believe what was happening. Never in a million years would he have dared hope she'd be in such a state over him. It was perfect.

Amber's beautiful eyes flared with both horror and hesitancy, as her body screamed at her to do it. What would it matter? They were just words, it wouldn't mean anything.

"I love you, Brad," Amber said helplessly, "now, please..."

"When I speak, you're not going to ignore me." Brad allowed her slide down a couple of inches and watched her eyes close in pure bliss. "Amber!" he prompted sharply when she didn't answer, and he lifted her off him, meeting her startled gaze. "You're going to fuck me," he told her firmly, "say it, tell me." As their eyes locked, he saw the hysteria in her blight-blue depths, and he knew he had her right where he wanted her.

"I'm going to fuck you!" Amber blurted out, clawing at his hands on her waist.

"You're mine? You belong to me?" Brad tested her further, feeling his balls begin to ache.

"Ok, yes. Yes!" Amber pleaded, feeling the blood pound in her ears, as though her heart might jump out of her chest. 

Giving her a warning look, Brad slowly released her hips and held his hands out to the side as though he'd just performed a magic trick. In a way, it was true. Brad could barely comprehend that, of all things, he was using his cock as a bargaining chip. Was this a wet dream?

"Oh, god," Amber breathed ecstatically as she slowly slid down over his large, thick length, "oh, oh, oh, god." 

"Oh, yes," Brad muttered thickly, hands sliding over her thighs and up her waist, watching himself squeeze into her slick tightness. "Yes, yes, yes..." he reached up and ripped the red shirt over her head, pushed the black satin bra up to her neck and caressed her naked breasts while she urgently moved on top of him.

"You like that, Amber?" he panted, "You like riding my dick?"

"Yes," she gasped, increasing her pace as her pussy adjusted to his size. "Fuck, yes."

"Tell me you love my dick," he commanded, pinching her nipples. "Tell me."

"I love your dick," Amber shut her eyes, trying to ignore him as she worked her way to a climax.

"Open your eyes!" he ordered. "Look at me. Tell me you love me!"

Amber met his eyes, her own heavy-lidded with lust as she was filled completely. "I love you, Brad," she complied, frowning at her words and the intensity of the sensations as he moved inside her.

After that, there was a lengthy, tense silence broken only by their panting, the sound of bed-sheets repetitively shifting as Amber rhythmically thrust on top of him. Driving her hips down with more force, she felt an incredible surge of electrifying excitement build within her.

Brad watched as her breathing sharpened and caught in her throat, her pink mouth wide open as though she needed air. Amber's eyes squeezed shut and her body seized up as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure coursed through her body. She jerked forward, then tipped her head back as she basked in the incredible rush of her climax. 

Then Brad began to thrust up into her, and she cried out as his cock seemed to repetitively tap an area deep within her, enhancing the thrills recklessly spiralling up and down her torso, concentrating between her legs. Watching her lovely face straining under the force of her orgasm, knowing she used his cock to get there, Brad couldn't hold out anymore.

"Fuck! Oh, Amber!" he ground out, raising his head to watch his cock rapidly disappear into her as his own release overcame him. Not wanting the moment to end, he desperately reached up to capture her breasts and flick her nipples, stretching one hand up further to insert a finger into her pink mouth, feeling his orgasm flare to new heights as she wantonly sucked on it whilst continuing to grind on top of him, drawing out her own orgasm. They rhythmically writhed against each other for several heated seconds, riding it out.

As the all-consuming pleasure that had clouded her senses began to ease, Amber slowed her rocking as the delicious tingling left her body, and tiredly climbed off Brad, exhaustedly falling onto her side, angrily tugging on the blanket that was caught under his weight. He left the bed to take off the condom, and she pulled the blanket over her and closed her eyes, tiredly working to set the latest betraying experience from her mind. 




Stalking Amber Ch. 03



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

"What's going on with you?" Heidi frowned, shifting a manilla file under her arm as she closed the office door behind her. Although abruptly professional, Heidi was great to work for. She was organised, highly intelligent, supportive, and best of all, possessed a keen sense of humour.

Fred's head shot up from his desk. "Nothing," he hastily replied, not meeting his supervisor's eyes. Fred was remarkably tall, not quite matching Brad's height, but close. His build was athletic, but his physique wasn't as intimidating as it might have been, because he never took himself too seriously. Popular with everyone, his easy-going vibe rubbed off on others. 

"You've postponed a string of appointments, and now you're applying for leave. What is it, cancer? Death in the family?"

Fred shook his head. "I have things to take care of," he muttered.

"What happened?" Heidi persisted, taking a seat in the prim, leather chair in front of him.

Fred's face tightened angrily and he stared blankly at his desk, numerous sheets of paper scattered across its normally tidy surface. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so emotional. Heidi, noticing his flustered expression, discreetly inspected her manicure.

"Here's the thing," she told him quietly. "You can't expect to wind things up over two days and take off. It's just not done." She moved her gaze to peer interestedly out the window as Fred rested his face in his hands. "I can pull strings and fix things. But I need to know what's so damned important. I know I'm your boss, but I'm also your friend. So, talk to me."

"Amber left me."

"Huh," Heidi quickly looked at him, genuinely surprised. True, Amber was a total goddess, a serious head-turner. But Fred was cute in his 'boy-next-door' way, and blessed with an amazing personality. It was impossible not to like him, and he was funny enough to make a statue crack up. Besides, Heidi had seen the two of them together, noted the adoration in Amber's striking eyes when she watched Fred through her lashes. Heidi assumed that despite her incredible looks, Amber enjoyed Fred's down-to-Earth normality, but perhaps she was mistaken in her judgement. As far as Heidi was concerned, it was Amber's loss. Heidi personally knew several girls who had secret crushes on Fred. 

"Look," she said pragmatically, clasping her hands together and resting them on the desk as she leaned forward. "I don't really respect 'lovesick' as a valid excuse to cut out on work. But you've always pulled more than your fair share around here, and I've never known you to be anything other than a responsible guy. That aside, you and I have always been friends. So, I'll sort out the details." As she stood she reached out a hand and affectionally patted Fred's arm. "I'm really sorry about Amber," she murmured sincerely, and walked to the door. Pausing as her hand fixed around the knob, she turned back. "Oh, crap. I forgot," she added, brow furrowed, "there's one account you can't leave hanging."

"I've delegated my tasks amongst the team," Fred said, confused. He worked closely with four others, and they always had each other's backs. It was actually the first time Fred needed support, he was usually the one helping out others. 

But right now, Fred had to find Amber. He was hurting because he missed her, but more importantly, he needed answers. If Amber didn't want to be with him, fine, but he couldn't accept that she would just leave without explanation. With her temperament, Fred would have known something was wrong, aside from the fact he couldn't remember the last time she was seriously mad at him. 

Only a week ago she confessed she was crazy about him, that he was the best thing that'd happened to her. Amber wasn't normally communicative with her feelings, and Fred thought his heart might explode from the elation he felt. Always believing it was only a matter of time before she left him for a more glamorous 'Hollywood' type, her admission gave him he courage he needed to go ring shopping. Now, she was gone. 

"Well," Heidi shrugged, "you can't delegate this one. It's a biggie. The account was renewed yesterday. And they asked for you specifically. You got the moves, kid."

"Who?" Fred crinkled his brow, unable to drive Amber's smiling face from his mind.

Heidi fanned herself with the folder and a wistful look softened her face. "That hottie, whatshisname. Tall hunk, blue eyes. You know, walks into a room and all you hear is the sound of panties dropping."

"Brad Dawson?" Fred exclaimed incredulously, his jaw dropping. "Brad Dawson? Brad-? The guy hates me!"

"Evidently not," Heidi raised her eyebrows. "He was very particular about working with you, and no one else. I didn't talk to him directly, but I hear he was adamant. As in, it was you, or no one. Maybe he's one of those repressed homosexuals. You know, fancies men like crazy, but hates the fact. 

"Whatever it is, humour him. You shouldn't have to meet more than twice a week. It's the best I can do, and it's not a bad deal for you, considering you want time off on last-minute notice. Have fun with it, take him fine-dining. He's a client we don't want to lose again."

"Brad Dawson." Fred shook his head in amazement. "Last time we met, he gave me scathing feedback about my people-skills. He practically criticised the way I take in oxygen!" He angrily raked a hand through his jet-black hair, setting it on end. "That's all I need right now," he said grimly. "To sit opposite that guy's glaring contempt. The one guy who won't laugh at my jokes, not even to be polite."

"Well, there had to be something wrong with him," Heidi replied kindly.

"There's definitely something wrong with that guy," Fred clarified, looking at her seriously. "He's nuts. Our first meet-ups were perfectly friendly, and then one day, bam, it's like he wants to punch my face in." 

"Maybe you offended him?" Heidi frowned. "I can't imagine how."

Fred threw up his arms in defeat. "Maybe I can ask him while he death stares me. The way I feel, I might be the one to punch him in the face." He looked at Heidi. "I'm a mess. Can't you push him onto someone else?"

"If you repeat that outside this room, you'll start a riot with the girls," Heidi chuckled. "Sorry, kid," she added with genuine sympathy, "it's gotta be you. Try not to beat him up." Tilting her head at him, she considered his physique. "You know, I think if it came to a rumble you'd be even-matched. Not that I'd encourage anything of the sort," she added hastily, quickly opening the door and leaving. 

"But that's one fight I'd buy a ticket to see," she said to herself, as the door clicked shut behind her.



Stalking Amber



It was entirely possible he wouldn't register her absence until morning, which currently seemed like a very, very long time to Amber. Brad could do a number of things to her in that time-frame. Worst of all, her musings were ominously overshadowed by the fact no one knew where she was. What if no one found her, and Brad never came back? Was that his plan, to leave her until she called him for mercy? How long would it take to starve to death?

Amber jumped out of her skin at the sound of Brad clearing his throat from the doorway, his tall figure leaning against the door-frame, arms crossed. How long had he been standing there watching her?

"Please, please, Brad," Amber implored, finally comprehending that she was completely in his power. "You don't need to do this, you're a good-looking guy. I'm sure there are lots of girls panting for you. Please let me go."

"You haven't been listening," he replied, his voice mildly irritated, watching her quiver uncertainly under his gaze. When she hadn't noticed his arrival, he stood there for about fifteen minutes, wanting to stay close, wondering at the effect her nearness had on him. 

"Ok," she conceded, nodding. "C-can we talk? Without...without touching?" she asked tremulously, remembering his hands all over her, like a pervy octopus. 

"I guess you have a right to know, that no one will come looking for you," Brad informed her, "even if your whereabouts were discoverable." Noting both the horror and outrage on her face, he smiled. "I planned this. I made sure that your manager, George, had more than enough to drink at lunch. I did a couple of practice runs this week. He's very receptive to a good listener and free drinks."

"But-but-," stuttered Amber.

"So, I visited your home today," he continued, ignoring her, "and packed up your things. Perhaps Fred will be a little disconcerted and very upset, but the police won't draw any conclusions other than you doing a runner for whatever reason." He raised a hand to casually inspect his nails. "Oh, and you've also tendered your resignation. I guess you'd had enough of George's long lunches, and I somehow doubt he will follow up, given the nature of his vice."

Uncrossing his arms, he strode forward, and Amber saw he was holding a small black tube in his hand. Noticing where her attention lay, he raised the shiny vial.

"This," he smiled, "is a sort of lubricant." As her eyes widened fearfully he continued. "It's not essential, but it'll make you feel good. It's designed to stimulate certain areas."

Trying to calm the flood of panic coursing through her body, Amber could only vigorously shake her head. She anxiously bit her lower lip as he approached the bed and climbed onto it.

"With a little dab here and there, and a bit of foreplay," he told her smugly, "eventually you'll take back every nasty thing you've said to me tonight, and beg me to fuck you." Her body tensed as he lowered his head to her pussy and inhaled deeply. "Hmm, you're a little wet, you know," he informed her, gently circling her clit through the lace with two fingers as she squirmed. 

Amber clenched her teeth. Having quite a temper for such a small girl, her fear was quickly being overshadowed by anger. Brad was planning to ruin her life, take away her freedom and everything she'd come to know and love. And she was obviously looking at a humiliatingly prolonged sexual assault. He could arouse her all he wanted, and her body might betray her, but she wasn't going to ask him for anything. 

"Fine," she said flatly, her pale eyes flashing as they angrily fixed on the ceiling, refusing to look at him as her heart thundered with adrenaline and hate. "Give it your best shot, fuckface."

"So nasty," he tutted from between her legs, unaffected by her insult, pulling the slip of lace to the side and flicking her clit with his tongue. He heard her breath hiss through her teeth as her body shivered from the resulting sensation. 

"What's the problem? I thought you said I was a good-looking guy?" he teased, before covering her pussy with his mouth, passionately kissing and tonguing her, loving the way her body jerked angrily, more delicious fluids seeping out to cover his chin. 

"Fuck you," Amber snapped, her voice humming with increasing anger as she felt her arousal building. "You're nothing but a sick pervert."

"Hate me all you want," Brad said thickly, and she felt his hot breath caress her inner thigh, "you're going to lose that tone, baby." He shifted, and Amber felt a soft liquid dribble over her pussy, then his fingers gently massaged it in as though he were applying moisturiser. Then she jumped as he slowly slipped two fingers insider her, still massaging her clit with his thumb.

"Uhhh..." Amber cringed her annoyance, furious she couldn't stop her body from shuddering in pleasure. 

"Mm-hmm," he nodded, hearing her. "That's it, Amber, baby. We're getting there."

"We are not getting anywhere," she ground out through clenched teeth. 

Brad's head ducked up from between her legs to view her flushed face. "You're such a little spitfire," he observed, tilting his head. "I like it. Make sure you give me some of that sass when we're fucking. After you beg for it." He chuckled at the way her beautiful eyes glowered at the ceiling in response, her chest heaving indignantly, and he felt his cock swell painfully. He could easily pound her now, but for their first time he wanted her to ask him for it, set a precedent for the next occasions. 

"Come on, Amber," he coaxed, watching her scowl as he slowly finger-fucked her. "You want to come, don't you?" He smiled as her body stiffened when he brushed his thumb over her clit. "I could make you come for me, but I think we should do it together, don't you? Wouldn't that be nice? All you have to do is ask."

"Fuck you, and fuck your mother," she snarled, her toned thighs tightening as her hips began to twitch against his caress.

"The face of an angel, and the mouth of a pirate," he said admiringly, pulling out his fingers and licking them. He considered dipping his cock in, just a little to tease her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going all the way and fucking her brains out. He couldn't help unbuttoning his trousers and wrapping a hand around his cock. It was beginning to ache for contact of any kind, but he was determined to appear calm and controlled, not to show his desperation.

Amber let out a long, shaky breath of relief as Brad withdrew from the bed and left the room. Her pussy was pulsating, the liquid had warmed over her and was beginning to tingle. She had never been teased like this before, brought to a shuddering arousal only to have it taken away. Despite her aching pussy, she was glad he was gone, because she could feel that she was right on the edge of a climax, and she would rather wait out her frustration than have him get the satisfaction of seeing it.

Again the minutes ticked by, and though Amber took long, calming breaths to get her arousal under control, she couldn't resist tightening her ass and bucking upwards now and then, stimulating herself with movement.

"I can help you with that," Brad chuckled from the doorway and Amber inwardly cursed that he had witnessed her frustration.

"Fuck off," she muttered, grimacing at him.

Brad strode forward, and Amber's breath caught in her throat as she saw he was completely naked, his large cock jutting toward her boldly. He looked like some kind of Demigod walking amongst mortals, he had a perfect combination of muscle and tone, with smooth, tanned skin. The pools of deep blue in his eyes reflected the moonlight, and his curling hair was wickedly ruffled.

Amber's body stiffened with both dread and excitement as he slowly climbed onto the bed, crawling forward until he was directly above her, on his hands and knees. With one hand, he stroked down her face, over her slim neck, over her breast and slipped under the singlet. His hand worked under her bra, watching her reaction carefully as he captured her soft breast in his hand, and it moved against him as her torso twisted, trying to shift his hand.

"You're half-way there," he whispered, playing with her nipple as it stood to attention under his fingertips. "You just need to stop saying 'fuck you', and start saying 'fuck me.'"

"That's not going to happen," she breathed, feeling her heart rate speed up. "Oh!" she gasped, eyes wide in panic, as his other hand slipped under her panties and his fingers drummed across her pussy.

"Say it, Amber," he growled, taking his hand away. "Say that you want me to fuck you."

Brad narrowed his eyes as she determinedly fought her desire and kept silent. She was tougher than he anticipated, she wasn't going to submit to him. Though he wanted her to say his name in the heat of passion, he couldn't wait any longer. He was reduced to using other, much less satisfying means. It irked him, but he didn't have a choice.

"You remember the knife?" he ask roughly, and in response she glared at him.

"Do your worst, and go to hell," she hissed, and spat at him.

Brad looked at her coldly before calmly scooping her saliva from his cheek into his mouth. Then he lowered his lips to hers and she grunted angrily against him as he deliberately forced her spit back into her mouth with his tongue. She tried to bite his tongue but only managed to get his lip, but not hard enough to break the skin. Feeling the pinch of her teeth, he pulled back and looked down at her confidently, but his eyes were angry.

"I think we both know I'm not going to hurt you," he told her. "But maybe I should pay Fred a visit. Maybe seeing one of his fingers on the bedside might put you in the mood? What do you think?"

Amber's jaw dropped, and she stared up at him bleakly, seeing the triumph in his eyes as he registered her defeated expression.

"Well?" he prompted, impatiently tapping her cheek.

"Please, don't," she whispered, turning her head to the side. He quickly gripped her chin and turned her back to face him.

"Then you know what to do," he stated carefully, withdrawing from her to sit back on his heels. They stared at each other for a full minute, before Brad shrugged and began to back off the bed.

"Wait!" Amber cried desperately. "I want...I want you to fuck me." She squeezed her eyes shut, aggravated by her weakness, but she couldn't let him hurt Fred.

"Oh?" Brad said with polite curiosity, "Are you sure? You didn't seem too enthusiastic before."

"Yes! Yes, I am sure," she insisted, a pained expression spreading across her pretty face as she ate her words, just like he said she would. "I didn't mean the things I said. I-"

Amber gasped as Brad suddenly leapt on top of her, like a panther pouncing, his chest trembling to contain his excitement.

"Again," he said hoarsely, pushing her singlet and bra up her chest, exposing her breasts to his hot mouth.

"I didn't mean the things-" she uttered.

"No," he interrupted her, his tongue swirling around her nipples, "before that. What you want, tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me," Amber replied weakly.

"What else?" Brad groaned into her chest, reaching down to rip the purple scrap of lace from between her legs and slide a finger into her.

"I-I-," she stuttered as the aching heat again returned to her pussy, connecting like electricity to the sensations his mouth created across her breasts.

"You want my cock inside you? For us to be joined together?" he panted, raising his head. 

"Yes," she answered, dazed by both her arousal and the drastic change in his emotions. 

"This is mine now," Brad said breathlessly, playing with her pussy. "This belongs to me."

"Uhh..." Amber replied, not daring to contradict him, startled by the way he stared wildly into her eyes.

"Say it," he murmured, quickly pressing his mouth against hers in a short kiss. "Say it, Amber."

"It's...yours?" Amber complied, bewildered as to exactly what 'this' meant - was he talking about her pussy, or was he just nuts? 

She whimpered as he shifted forward, lining his cock up at her entrance. At first he nudged around the outside, teasing her, sending little thrills up her spine and down her legs. Then he slid in an inch and she suddenly moaned, loud and clear.

Brad gave a shout of laughter when he saw the shock on Amber's face as she realised. "That's it, baby," he grinned, leaning down to kiss her, "that's it..."

Amber groaned into his mouth as he pressed his hips forward and squeezed his full length inside her tightness, until she felt his balls resting against her ass. Then, he didn't move, he just let his cock sit inside her, feeling her stretch firmly around him. As she wriggled underneath him, trying to get him out, she felt as though every part of her was being almost painfully stimulated by his cock. Before she knew it, Amber's body took over as she steadily entered into a shuddering orgasm, her hands and ankles pulling against the silk bonds as she arched her back against him.

Brad pulled back and watched her trembling body, fascinated. He no longer felt let down about having to threaten Fred for her compliance, as he felt her slick walls twitch and begin to pulsate around his cock. He saw her brilliant eyes close, her white teeth biting down on her full bottom lip to suppress her moans. His own chest heaved from his own sexual frustration of just resting inside her, but he also felt extreme elation as her ice-blue eyes fluttered open in a daze and clashed with his triumphant ones.

"Yes," he said thickly, grinding his hips forward and making her gasp, "I know exactly what that was, Amber." As she shook her head and opened her mouth to deny it, he added, "Please, don't insult me. Don't even try and pretend you didn't just come on my dick."

With that last cynical comment, he buried his face into her elegant neck and began to thrust, still feeling her pussy tremor around his cock, sensitive from her climax. As he rocked back and forth over her, gently nipping her neck, he reached up with one hand and squeezed her breast, feeling her heartbeat skipping under his palm. 

Brad knew she was being careful to stay quiet, but he could tell by her panting, her body's quivering response that she was still feeling the delicious after-effects of her orgasm, now further enhanced by his cock pumping her. His other hand moved down to urgently grip her bare buttock and hold her steady beneath him as he drove into her.

Despite the amazing sensations flooding her whole body, emotionally, Amber felt terrible. She couldn't control her body's response, but orgasming with Brad's cock inside her was as good as cheating on Fred in her eyes. Even worse, with the new feeling of Brad's moving cock, his mouth on her neck and hand on her breast, squeezing her ass to tightly meet his thrusts, she felt herself rocking towards another dreaded climax. 

Tied down with silk, her singlet and bra pushed up and her skirt about her waist, a well-muscled, fully naked man writhing atop her, she couldn't drive the eroticism from her mind. As though Brad knew her thoughts, he seemed to pound her harder and faster, and his hand moved from her ass to play with her pussy as she heard him sharply gasp against her throat. 

Amber's second orgasm shortly followed Brad's as he grunted, urgently circling her clit. She felt a warmth spread throughout her pussy as he pumped her full of cum, and she groaned protestingly into his mouth as he fixed it to hers, kissing her deeply as he slowed his thrusts, drawing out both of their orgasms. 

Still inside her, cupping her face, he placed a last lingering kiss to her soft lips.

"See?" Brad taunted her hoarsely, as she angrily whipped her face from his hand and jerked at her restraints. "Trust me, Amber, you're going to be very happy here."

He sighed, pulling out of her and backing off the bed. Amber glared daggers at him as he indulgently stretched his large arms upwards, very relaxed after his release. 

Brad bent under the bed, and pulled out a small chain. "One day," he smiled, "this won't be necessary." As Amber gaped up at him, he circled the small iron ring about her slender ankle and snapped it closed. 

"It's attached to an anchor under the bed," he explained, "and it took three men of my strength to move it there. But, by all means, feel free to investigate." Then he moved about the bed, releasing her silk bonds one by one. 

At first Amber scrambled up in a rage to attack Brad, but paused as she saw the look in his eyes, realising the stupidity of trying to hurt a man as strong as he was while she was chained, and the fact he was completely naked.

"Please do," he invited softly, licking his lips as his blue eyes travelled over her naked breasts and bunched up skirt. "You'll discover there's more than one way to ask a man to service you."

"You got what you wanted," she trembled, "now, let me go. You have to let me go." Brad just tilted his head at her thoughtfully, then turned to leave.

"You can't keep me here!" Amber screamed, as the bedroom door slammed shut behind him.